The Fang Gang's Darkness
Jan 13, 2019 21:05:21 GMT -8
Post by vartio on Jan 13, 2019 21:05:21 GMT -8
Djenganti Monastery. A place Vartio visited many occasions over the year. Forest surrounded a comfortable area around the complex, situated a distance north of Cascadia. It laid amidst an ocean of eastern hemlock, oak and sycamore trees, a verdant field of green in every angle. The monastery’s monks trimmed and curated the turf, furnished with perennial ryegrass, tall fescue and meadow within the expanse that the building laid in. At one corner laid erratic, irregular ground, composed of diverse depressions with an abnormal arch, fresh grass marking the scars of a conflict that took place half a year prior. A conflict which Vartio himself had a part in. Gone was swathes of trees in a linear area, marring the almost well curated design of the clearing in which the monastery laid.
The building was a blend of Godaian and Mezaotan architecture, a wedding of their design logics. Adorned with weathered turquoise green kawara roofing, underlined by the red of the wooden pillars that served as the building’s support. A muddled gray marked the building’s walls, made of stone sculpted in a Godaian style.
Chirps of non-pokemon insects filled the surroundings, echoing through the open area. Murkrow and Starly called throughout the area in their species' distinctive sounds. The occasional sounds of Meowths, Glameows, Burmy and other often native pokemon called out, though nowhere as copious as the others. It was a cacophony matching how at nature the Djenganti Monastery belonged, a sign of how well the head monk, Elder Momo, took care of the place. Only a few locations existed that humans and pokemon could coexist in. Djenganti stood out as the only residence of humans within Godai that bore deep relations with wild pokemon.
The scents of morning dew mixed with the earth and moistened leaves and barks of the trees. Together these scents brought a relaxing sensation to the air and persisted with the monastery’s essence. As one traveled the area, one could smell the variable pokemon what made the outdoors their home. Thankfully, no Stunky or Skuntanks made the area their residence.
Pale blue light blended in the early darkness of daybreak. Etching its course through the fractures between the leaves and through the clearing upon which the monastery itself imposed. The mist of the evaporating dew gave a magical mist that lightly veiled the hues of the place with the azure light.
The noise of grass and leaves, crunched underfoot, reverberated from the glade’s entrance. Breaking the shadows of the trail was Vartio, Susan charging by his side. The spirit expressed by the Rattata was unlike the norm; her form rising as great as she could as she bounced. Despite many hardships, the Rattata that accompanied Vartio still loved her home, expressing pleasure upon her return.
Wonder drew through Vartio’s mind, scarcely seeing Susan so energetic. They’d visited before, but this was unusual behavior from her. Mayhap it was the time, the atmosphere, or something else. A pokemon could be challenging to comprehend, considering they were animals.
Susan darted a distance forwards, the purple rodent rolled in the grass, a torrent of squeaks filling the landscape. Small bits of grass got trapped in her coat, the dew melding with her to give a sheen from dawn’s rays. It was a moment before she retired to all fours, her front half leaning down before twitching her body in jolts to shake loose excess. Her body returned to routine as Vartio caught up to her with his leisurely strides.
Once he knelt down, Vartio wrapped his right hand around Susan’s sternum, hoisting her to his chest. Her paws paddled at the open before relaxing, craning her neck to peer up at her owner, to discover his hand already caressing her. A straightforward relationship developed on love, trust, and goofiness had defined these two over the last year.
“Welcome home, Susan.” Vartio’s tone displayed a tenderness and energy betraying his 19-year-old form, raising the rat with his left hand against the Flaafy-wool coat. His heart quivered with delight just watching her brush her head against his haori. He could see she was livelier than normal, the non-subtle actions like running ahead and rolling in the grass being fair examples.
As his free hand plucked the small blades of grass from Susan’s fur, he stared towards the multi-story complex in front of him. This place was dear to his heart. If anywhere was a spiritual “home” for Vartio, it was here. Short of his actual home, he had so many memories in his time here, captured so many pokemon here. Short of a city, he slept here more often than in other areas out in the wild. The mood was excellent, the Pokemon were leaning towards his favorite types. But most significant to him: Susan was born here.
Susan’s maw opened with a mild yawn before rolling her back into Vartio’s grip, his right hand tickling his fingers against her belly as he approached the monastery doors amidst her playful squeaks. She chose of her own volition to escape up his arm and into his coat through the gap in his kosode’s sleeve to her regular spot. The proximity to his heartbeat and the warmth of his body was more than adequate to ease the young rodent before she popped her head out as per routine.
As Vartio approached the doorway, he couldn’t help admire the construction further. Based on a multi-story variation of the zenshuyo-style of Mezaoto construction. Over the generations, some bits repaired into Godai’s artistic style, without endangering the basic Jagravanistic cultural essentials. To carry out repairs cheaper, they defaulted to Godai’s construction practices.
In Mezaoto, they wouldn’t have double lacquered the doorway for example, a suggestion of merged concepts to fit the authentic style. Oak doors covered first in a black lacquer seemed to be the base. Following, they did the outer paneling in a red which fit the architecture’s tokyo-style support pillars. Wear and tear had exposed blotches of the door’s inner lacquer through the outer, emphasizing that grasp of antiquity. Metal given a yellow paint job to simulate gold outlined the door in a stylistic design while doubling as hinges, stood as the most glaring discrepancy. The standard would use no inlay detail of the door and instead have for example similar metal emblem bolted towards the center of the pair of doors. Then the doors reached 7 feet tall. Vartio was aware Mezaoto born individuals were shorter than Godian citizens, so 6 and a half foot tall doors was the maximum in the current period. In the past they were smaller as humans were smaller back then.
Regardless, the consideration to detail was extraordinary to Vartio, recognizing how far off Mezaoto was. He couldn’t help imagine the work being from Mezaoto immigrants who knew the construction methods, but not familiar with the era or design reasoning.
The building was a blend of Godaian and Mezaotan architecture, a wedding of their design logics. Adorned with weathered turquoise green kawara roofing, underlined by the red of the wooden pillars that served as the building’s support. A muddled gray marked the building’s walls, made of stone sculpted in a Godaian style.
Chirps of non-pokemon insects filled the surroundings, echoing through the open area. Murkrow and Starly called throughout the area in their species' distinctive sounds. The occasional sounds of Meowths, Glameows, Burmy and other often native pokemon called out, though nowhere as copious as the others. It was a cacophony matching how at nature the Djenganti Monastery belonged, a sign of how well the head monk, Elder Momo, took care of the place. Only a few locations existed that humans and pokemon could coexist in. Djenganti stood out as the only residence of humans within Godai that bore deep relations with wild pokemon.
The scents of morning dew mixed with the earth and moistened leaves and barks of the trees. Together these scents brought a relaxing sensation to the air and persisted with the monastery’s essence. As one traveled the area, one could smell the variable pokemon what made the outdoors their home. Thankfully, no Stunky or Skuntanks made the area their residence.
Pale blue light blended in the early darkness of daybreak. Etching its course through the fractures between the leaves and through the clearing upon which the monastery itself imposed. The mist of the evaporating dew gave a magical mist that lightly veiled the hues of the place with the azure light.
The noise of grass and leaves, crunched underfoot, reverberated from the glade’s entrance. Breaking the shadows of the trail was Vartio, Susan charging by his side. The spirit expressed by the Rattata was unlike the norm; her form rising as great as she could as she bounced. Despite many hardships, the Rattata that accompanied Vartio still loved her home, expressing pleasure upon her return.
Wonder drew through Vartio’s mind, scarcely seeing Susan so energetic. They’d visited before, but this was unusual behavior from her. Mayhap it was the time, the atmosphere, or something else. A pokemon could be challenging to comprehend, considering they were animals.
Susan darted a distance forwards, the purple rodent rolled in the grass, a torrent of squeaks filling the landscape. Small bits of grass got trapped in her coat, the dew melding with her to give a sheen from dawn’s rays. It was a moment before she retired to all fours, her front half leaning down before twitching her body in jolts to shake loose excess. Her body returned to routine as Vartio caught up to her with his leisurely strides.
Once he knelt down, Vartio wrapped his right hand around Susan’s sternum, hoisting her to his chest. Her paws paddled at the open before relaxing, craning her neck to peer up at her owner, to discover his hand already caressing her. A straightforward relationship developed on love, trust, and goofiness had defined these two over the last year.
“Welcome home, Susan.” Vartio’s tone displayed a tenderness and energy betraying his 19-year-old form, raising the rat with his left hand against the Flaafy-wool coat. His heart quivered with delight just watching her brush her head against his haori. He could see she was livelier than normal, the non-subtle actions like running ahead and rolling in the grass being fair examples.
As his free hand plucked the small blades of grass from Susan’s fur, he stared towards the multi-story complex in front of him. This place was dear to his heart. If anywhere was a spiritual “home” for Vartio, it was here. Short of his actual home, he had so many memories in his time here, captured so many pokemon here. Short of a city, he slept here more often than in other areas out in the wild. The mood was excellent, the Pokemon were leaning towards his favorite types. But most significant to him: Susan was born here.
Susan’s maw opened with a mild yawn before rolling her back into Vartio’s grip, his right hand tickling his fingers against her belly as he approached the monastery doors amidst her playful squeaks. She chose of her own volition to escape up his arm and into his coat through the gap in his kosode’s sleeve to her regular spot. The proximity to his heartbeat and the warmth of his body was more than adequate to ease the young rodent before she popped her head out as per routine.
As Vartio approached the doorway, he couldn’t help admire the construction further. Based on a multi-story variation of the zenshuyo-style of Mezaoto construction. Over the generations, some bits repaired into Godai’s artistic style, without endangering the basic Jagravanistic cultural essentials. To carry out repairs cheaper, they defaulted to Godai’s construction practices.
In Mezaoto, they wouldn’t have double lacquered the doorway for example, a suggestion of merged concepts to fit the authentic style. Oak doors covered first in a black lacquer seemed to be the base. Following, they did the outer paneling in a red which fit the architecture’s tokyo-style support pillars. Wear and tear had exposed blotches of the door’s inner lacquer through the outer, emphasizing that grasp of antiquity. Metal given a yellow paint job to simulate gold outlined the door in a stylistic design while doubling as hinges, stood as the most glaring discrepancy. The standard would use no inlay detail of the door and instead have for example similar metal emblem bolted towards the center of the pair of doors. Then the doors reached 7 feet tall. Vartio was aware Mezaoto born individuals were shorter than Godian citizens, so 6 and a half foot tall doors was the maximum in the current period. In the past they were smaller as humans were smaller back then.
Regardless, the consideration to detail was extraordinary to Vartio, recognizing how far off Mezaoto was. He couldn’t help imagine the work being from Mezaoto immigrants who knew the construction methods, but not familiar with the era or design reasoning.
{Edits}
Feb 2nd - Updating the topic as normal. Post still isn't 100% done and I've been adding on steadily.
Feb 12th - Added about the remaining half of the post.
Feb 2nd - Updating the topic as normal. Post still isn't 100% done and I've been adding on steadily.
Feb 12th - Added about the remaining half of the post.
