Dude I Wrote Too Much Lore For Ancient Unova And I Will Spill It - Tumblr Posts
Submas AU Drabble - Coincidence
The art before Emmet is impressive. Painted on clay slabs that stretch from the museum’s floor to ceiling. The colors have faded with age, but are still brilliant - electric blue highlights running across figures in white and black. Twins, he supposed, like the legendary dragons that curled fiercely around them.
If he were not Emmet, he is sure he would stop and stare a while. It was very striking, he had to admit. But he is Emmet, so instead he does not bother to read the museum label and wanders away.
He is verrrry bored. But Ingo is not, and the air conditioning feels wonderful, so he will not complain.
A broken charm sits behind glass, shining with purple gemstones. Emmet doesn’t know what it is supposed to resemble. Maybe it wasn’t meant to resemble anything. Maybe this kingdom had lots of silly ideas, beginning with building their capital in the heart of a desert. That should have been thought through.
This was their first day off in years and they wasted most of it trekking through dunes! In the heat! It was very very hot! Of all the places Ingo could have wanted to go, of course he chose the hardest station to arrive at. It had given Archeops the extra taste of battle he had been wanting though, and Emmet too.
No, he supposed it wasn’t all bad after all. He got to enjoy the journey, now it was time for the destination.
“EMMET!”
Immediately, said subway boss perks up and turns towards his brother’s booming voice. He enjoys the way his walk parts the crowd as he arrives at Ingo’s station. Emmet leans just far enough into his personal space to be noticeable. Ingo only glares. With such a subtle reaction, he must be distracted.
There is a portrait in front of them. There is a sizable group of people in blacks and whites. A few are speckled with red. Those details quickly fade into the background as his eyes catch on one in particular.
This one’s pale skin is sunburnt. His smile is half hidden by the collar of his coat. Even then, Emmet can see that it’s strained. His coat is striped, red and white. His sideburns are just like theirs. His everything is very much like them. Very, very, very much like them.
They observe in silence as the minutes pass. “Well,” Ingo eventually starts, “I suppose Elesa is right to call our coats old-fashioned.”
A chuckle escapes Emmet before he can stop it. Ingo’s eyes crinkle in that smiling way of his and whatever moment stretched on between them and the painting is broken.
“Nonsense, now we can say they’re traditional! She can’t argue against a track that stands the test of time!” Ingo gives him a look. “Alright, maybe she can.”
They chuckle, chatter on, and continue to their next station. Before they depart, Emmet pauses. He steals a glance at the portrait’s label.
Relic Castle, year unknown. Several religious acolytes are pictured alongside regents Rigus and Laurel during preparations for annual Volcarona-honoring festivities. The reason for a notoriously closed society to allow an apparent outsider to participate in religious preparations remains unknown.
By the time the subway masters leave the museum, the portrait is long forgotten.