[ti]scenario[/ti]The Imagination Banquet

Odile wished she had that little bit of extra time on her hands to learn more about the Dream World. Her interest was peaked during Thunderfall, but considering it was... Thunderfall, her priorities laid elsewhere. Didn't help that she took a small hiatus afterword, but she still clearly remembered the short trip over, how she was clad in a black tutu, how the King and Queen greeted them.

And now, an invitation to go back to that palace.

Who was she to deny royalty? She would never get a handcrafted letter in real life from any monarchy. Opportunity was knocking. She would answer.

"Imagination Banquet... sounds something out of a... dream?" Odile giggled at her pun, looking at the Munna and Indeedee. "Guess that's why it's being held in the Dream World. Thank you for delivering it to me..." Her voice trailed off as she leaned in, reading the name tag off of the Indeedee. "Earl Slamson of Breakcourt... now that's a name! Don't worry, I'll be there, and I will bring all the imagination I can muster."

That was the easy part, Odile had that in spades. What was she, if not a girl that dreamed of the stage and actually achieved it? The only thing left to do was actually was to go. Which... she was going to need to look up. She didn't think those pink bubbles were going to whisk her there once again.

The Imagination Banquet had begun in earnest. Whether players were able to open a portal themselves, or were escorted ever so politely by a certain Indeedee opening the way for you, players are eventually welcomed into the banquet hall.

For those that are accustomed to the Dream World, it's ethereal, dreamlike quality is already well known. But players who have never been here before may find themselves suddenly wearing drastically different attire. Ones befitting nobles of all kinds. Knights in shining armor, or ballroom gowns fit to make the most riches of queens jealous, all shaped by their own dreams and desires.

The Banquet Hall is a sight to behold all on its own. A massive forest within the palace itself, very reminiscent of the Birchwild Grove, so large one can't truly see the end of it. Pink flowers bloom across the land, spreading as far as the eye can see.

No longer just the site of a battlefield littered with scars, but a place filled with joy once again even as the past lingered on.

Long, stretching tables have been scattered across the hall, covered in colorful foods of all kinds, from various cultures. However, some food, didn't even look like real food and yet it still smelled deliciously. Bowls of a mysterious blue pudding that smelled almost like perfect steak, or how some of the bowls, plates, and other eatery seemed quite edible themselves. There even seemed to be a few massive pies, smelling oddly reminiscent of Mom's baking.

In a dream, nothing needed to make sense.

Decorations hung from the tree, long streamers of blue and pink swirling in an unseen breeze. Glimmering jewels and colors danced in the air above, and joyous music filled the hall. Horns, drums, and stringed instruments playing together in harmony.

Visible from the Banquet Hall itself, was hallways and rooms that went right back to a normal, classical castle. Large empty walls, ready to be filled with life. Huge open floors for dancing with spotlights from nowhere, buckets of paint all colors of the rainbow and then some that didn't exist, and exotic instruments that could never work in true life, found their homes here. Ready to be put to good use, to experiment, and have fun.

Amidst all the other empty walls, stood a section of endlessly shifting colors. Visions of potential pasts and futures never come to past. Choices never made, paths never walked. A nameplate had been placed before it, clearly relatively recently by the brand new shiny marble pole it stood upon. [tangent=The silver crack of lightning, the jagged gold of his brother, and a hundred splashes of trainers and Pokemon. The image shifts, showing a hundred permutations. Worlds that could have been. A burst of yellow as Zapdos electrocutes everyone. A slash of crimson as he is impaled by his own shrine. Blue fury as a humanoid Zapdos breaks his staff in two. Orange fire bathing the battlefield as the sun overhead explodes. Black corruption overtaking the conflict like an oil spill.

White. A battlefield frozen by the emergence of a titanic glacier.

The image on the wall shifts and shifts again, never settling. Like dreams it is restless, tinged in spreading fancy and fuzzy edges.]"A Delta - King Articuno"[/tangent]

Beyond them, two thrones sat upon an elevated platform. One, a classic storybook throne, the kind a thoughtful, generous king might use. The other, a throne formed from pillows and blankets, a stark difference. The two facing each other, a King and Queen to rule as equals.

Standing atop the elevated platform, stood Queen Rubella. Wearing a bright pink kimono and flowering ribbons that danced from her limbs. Broken, shattered jewels of a former crown floated around her head in a very slow orbit, bouncing as she moved. But most importantly, a wide, genuine smile was spread across her face.

As she spoke, her voice would echo off the walls, allowing every Dreamer near, or far to hear her words.

"Welcome, Dreamers. Dreams can not exist without imagination of the living. And it is my solemn duty, to welcome and encourage it all." She nods her head slowly, stepping forwards slowly. "The last time a banquet was held, we were led astray. We were forced to believe and act out someone else's fantasy. Our imagination was viewed as pathetic. No longer. Today, we live our own fantasy and forge our own future."

She spreads her arms, welcoming everyone. "Stay as long as you like, eat till you're full. The only ask, is that everyone blesses these halls with their creativity. Of that, I shall ask no more. But first, I shall reveal my own."

She turns, motioning a figure forwards. In comes a Drowzee from behind the throne, carefully carrying a small painting. The Queen would take the frame, leaning down and gently kissing the top of her Pokemon's head before it scrambled away.

She'd just raise her hands, the painting slowly growing in size as it floated over towards one of the blank walls. A framed painting of a soft blue egg, shrouded in mist, resting atop a pink pillow carefully. Painted by hand, not just graced into existence by her will as ruler of the Dream Kingdom. By no means fantastic, but a piece she could be proud to call her own. A small marble pillar would rise from the ground in front of it, a nameplate already formed. "What Does It Mean to Leave A Legacy? - Queen Rubella"

She'd then turn her attention back to the Dreamers, smiling just as widely as before. "To those that already are blessed with the ability to shape the Dream to your will, and to those that do not. It is by my right as Queen that I grant you all permission to shape the Dream to create your art. And with that, the Banquet has begun! Time to imagine, how magnificent!"

Queen Rubella would raise her hands once more, as the music would pick back up, the dance floors shimmering with light, the palace ready to be shaped by the Dreamer's will.

Oh, apparently the banquet was right now according to the weird purple Pokemon. Okay, that was fine, it wasn't like he was doing anything pressing at the moment, anyway. With the portal open, he stepped inside, momentarily blinded before he stepped into an entirely different scene. He thought that the reason why he remembered pink was because of clouds, but now that he was here, without the adrenaline of the Thunderfall Raid over him, he realized now that it was actually leaves. This place was a forest, perhaps meant to mirror the grove in the world that they came from, but it towered above them, and somehow they formed the walls of what seemed to be a palace.

Kallisto was someone that had never seen this place other than its current state of beautiful and strange, ever-changing yet fascinating. He then realized that he was once again wearing different clothing. Huh, this looked different compared to what he was wearing last time (or was it? Suddenly he wasn't sure, but he decided to play along anyway. It was vastly more comfortable than anything Alexander would've worn). Aegis ohh'ed and ahh'ed at everything, and frankly he seemed more suited to this place, of nobles and castles, compared to him. His eyes lingered on those paint buckets though, for he certainly was not confident in his dancing skills nor his ability to play musical instruments.

Yet there was also that singular wall of shifting colors and visions, and he recognized it to be Thunderfall, but also not quite. Of what could've been, if things were different, but they were not pretty images. He wondered if that meant they made the right choice, or if there was still a better choice out there that they had not been able to realize within the event.

<Master, look!> Aegis whispered while patting on Kallisto's shoulder. He then gestured to those sitting at the throne. The player tried to recall if she was there in Thunderfall, but it was a hazy memory. BBB was nowhere in sight, it seemed. But they listened, nonetheless, curious on what they were doing here and what they had to do. Kallisto combed through his still messy, spiky hair, thinking.

❝Are you sure you can't paint?❞

<Well...I haven't tried, but-->

❝This is a good place to start.❞ he knew that his Pokemon was going to try to get out of not participating. ❝There's a shitton of paint and a shitton of wall to paint on.❞

<I never knew you were enthusiastic about painting.>

He walked to one of the paint buckets; its colors shifting between purple, blue, pink, orange, and white. Palettes of the skies, between dawn and dusk, twilight and sunrise. He noticed that there were also plenty of brushes in circular tins. Picking up a rather small one, he dipped the brush into the paint bucket and watched the colors sparkle. ❝I'm just an opportunist.❞

Kazuki’s invitation had gone like this: He went training again, arrived at Precipice Shrine after getting appropriately beat within an inch of life, found a stuffed toy with a letter accompanied by a floating neck pillow, came close to tossing said letter until he saw the words 'The walls of the palace are of boring stone, some color is sorely needed.', promptly kicked down the metaphorical door to Verai’s man cave, and threw both of them into the abyss.

He’s unsure how the Dream Kingdom works, but censorship appeared to be stronger here—he woke up wearing clothes.

“Huh. Well, this is familiar.” Kazuki tugged at the kimono. It was a lot more intricate than the last one he wore around Verai, covered in flowers that matched his tattoos. “Not bad,” he grinned. “Not bad at all.” He threw his arm around Verai, moving to join the crowd streaming into the palace.

It was as if a whole other game had been stuffed in. Everything was done up to the nines, in every way imaginable—extravagance in all flavors. The Queen’s announcement was heard by all, recounting events that Kazuki could only understand as fairytales. Every part of this was like a fairytale, really. He wasn’t interested in the food, or acting out fantasies (more than he already has). He perked up as the walls took on a shimmer, the music starting back up—and people already moving to the walls with paints in tow.

He doesn’t hesitate, straying from the banquet to quickly take hold of a sizeable wall. The dream allowed him to manifest anything. By his feet lay his ragged high school duffel bag; an infinite cache of spray paints.

“Damn, I have missed this,” he purred, tying up his sleeves with tasuki and shaking the can in his hand, enjoying the little click click click. He leaped off the ground, the anti-gravity belt from his temporarily-active AVIATOR class launching him in the air, and began marring the pristine white with yellows.

It’s a mess at first. He was doing it for the fun of the process, fitted only with the overwhelming urge to move. He covered the wall with streaks of color, barely thinking, the scent of ozone in the back of his head.

The straight lines of black and yellow began merging together.

Eventually, he’s forced to step back.

He did not look pleased with what came out.

“Well, shit.” His graffiti assistant, Waffle, came down in an anti-gravity bubble, tiny paint brush in his mouth, the lace of his pink prince outfit flouncing as he approached his trainer.

<Mmph mmph!> Waffle said, pointing to a portion of the wall, where he had shakily written waffles wuz here in lime green.

“Who taught you to write?” Kazuki asked, raising a brow at the sprigatito. “I’ll teach you to draw a sword. Have you stick that into Zapdos, ‘cause fuck if I know where else to take this.”

He was not here for the stories; for Precipice Crown and everything preceding the era of Thunderfall. Moltres and Articuno were concepts to him, less human than Zapdos—even though he liked the thunderbird the least out of the three.

He stared at the infinite storm and the emerging behemoth, shaking the everlasting can of spray paint in his hands.

CALLING FOR MUSE!

Kazuki needs some help! Feel free to approach him and suggest how to finish the mural. Now, whether he will agree to it is debatable. If he says no, you can always join in and start drawing on your own—just stay light on your feet.

OOC: feel free to actually draw on the picture provided; otherwise, I will add to it depending on how this plays out.

Was it the most romantic way he’d been invited somewhere? Absolutely not- but being all but dragged by Kazuki to the Shrine- and then pitched into it- was so simply Kazuki Verai had no real room to complain.

He felt that his clothes had changed, but wasn’t overly concerned, simply waiting for Kazuki to stop preening, leaning into him as the arm was thrown around him.

Even with seer still equipped, Verai had to pause- the wondrous music, the soft fabrics, the smell of rich foods. He listened, intently, as Queen Rubella spoke. That said.

“Kazuki- it’s loud in here. I’ll need you to-” He reached, only to find the space next to him incredibly empty. Verai sighed.

That was alright. “Kitten-” He released the pokemon- who gasped sharply, and launched off his arm, bolting in a direction.

<CLAWZUKI!!! WAFFLES!!! HI!!!!> She yelled, slamming full force into the sprigatito. <Oh- I wanna play!!! Let me play too!!! Let me play too!!!!> She ran in a circle, knocking over a can of paint to splash in it, and braced her adorably tiny paws on the wall.

Verai, meanwhile, had escaped to a more quiet part of the banquet, finding the rustle of parchment, the softly-murmured words of poem and prayer. Queen Rubella wanted an offering… maybe that was something he could give.

Imagination-
A fight for a brighter world
Led by the players.
White walls falling to rainbow;
Old fear falling to new hope.

Another Way - Verai

It took a while for Morpheus to come up with something as his art to offer for the castle. Despite having no ideas at first, he started to get inspired by observing artworks made by Kazuki and Verai. Both were related to the latest raid he first joined, so maybe he should make something similar. With the painting tools some of the servers provided for him, he grasped a few ideas he had after looking at the others. Since this was a Dream World, he didn't have to be perfect. He has to imagine the picture in his head and draw and paint on the canvas.

Of course, he had some help as he took out his Snivy and Glaceon they used their tails to paint some details on his painting. Although, he had some mixed opinions when seeing their work. "Ourus, that's too big for a sky. Yukina, I don't that's perfect for a mountain." Morpheus groaned. "Seriously, can't you girls take this seriously?"

<Give me a break! My tail is big compared to Yukine!> Ourus huffed.

<Hey! It's not as fluffy compared to when I was an Eevee!> The Glaceon countered. <At least I'm a bit dexterous when it comes to my tail.>

Despite the setbacks from his decision to let his Pokemon help him, he eventually finished his first (and only) painting. It wasn't as egotistical as he expected. It was simply a painting of many trainers defending the Zapdos from the many towers surrounding it. He made sure most of them were random as they were mostly symbolism than the players themselves. Not only that, he wanted to create a scene that gave him the same passionate emotions when he decided to protect it than fight it.

While he was aware of his lack of artistic talents, he did dabble in poetry a bit, if not perfect. So it was no surprise that he put one above the title of his painting.

"In the fight for ideals, one must not rely on violence

For it will call the consequences of their malevolence.

But when words are used than blades; Then a new future will open ahead.

So to protect than to fret."

- War of Ideals, Morpheus