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Rafisol visits Steam City on an important job, but the weather and a clumsy courier throw her schedule into disarray. Prompt: Storm
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Topics: Ally/Rafisol
Word count: ~2300
Heels clicked against the wet cobblestone road and a lone figure's shadow stretched long beneath the dim street lamps. On such a drenched and dreary night, only a few brave souls would dare to venture into the darkened side streets of Steam City. The light drizzle didn't seem to bother this stranger, but it was difficult to read her expression beneath her hat.
In one hand, Rafisol carried a hefty-looking suitcase with a mysterious logo emblazoned on it. In her other was a closed umbrella, which was an odd sight given that the few others walking down this gloomy road had their umbrellas open. Some had given this visitor a second look before moving along with their night--not willing to get involved in whatever shady business she was clearly up to.
There was a sense of urgency in her steps. Those who saw her wondered if she was going to close some suspicious deal today, or perhaps if she was some mysterious investor looking to buy up property in the city? Ever since the mayor had begun several projects to promote the city's expansion, many investors had journeyed far and wide to get their hands on some prime real estate. That seemed to be the case with this new visitor, but her unreadable and stern expression made it hard for anyone to be certain.
She suddenly stopped underneath a street lamp and looked up at the sky. The clouds looked heavy with the coming rain.
"...I am lost." Her whisper was barely audible over the din of the ever-turning gears of Steam City. Even at night, this city never truly slept. She rifled through her pockets and pulled out a crude drawing--it looked like a map of some sort, but the text was splotchy and barely legible. She stared at it for a solid 30 seconds before putting it back. Then she turned the corner and melted into the darkness of an alleyway. If her intel was correct, this should be a shortcut to her destination, but her informant must have been half-awake or inebriated when he gave her this sorry excuse for a map.
She inched forward in the darkness towards a light at the other end of the alleyway and found herself in an open, well-lit area. It appeared to be some sort of main street. There were considerably more people here--some factory workers on their way home after an overtime shift, most likely. People were taking out their umbrellas or shielding their heads with their coats, and that's when she noticed that the storm seemed to be picking up in intensity.
She kept walking; she didn't even pause to open her umbrella. The hustle and bustle of a crowd was good cover for her, anyway. Her destination was opposite of the residential area of Steam City, so she pushed through the rushing crowd of people, drawing a few curious eyes towards her.
Upon reaching the end of the crowd, she turned onto a sloped road lined with shops that were closed for the day. The raindrops were growing larger by the second, and the wind only started to howl more loudly in Rafisol's ears. She pushed through, until...
"W-WATCH OUT!!"
Rafisol turned her gaze upward. A girl on a bike was barrelling towards her at full speed.
In one swift motion, she threw her umbrella aside, tucked the suitcase under her body, and dodged out of the way. Rafisol found herself in a deep puddle, but at least the parcel was safe and dry inside the suitcase. The sound of running footsteps drew closer to her, mixed in with the sound of the falling rain, until the reflection of a young woman showed in the puddle's surface.
"A-are you quite all right?!" The frantic voice sounded like the girl on the bike. Rafisol lifted her gaze and saw her worried expression. She was leaning over and extending a hand to Rafisol.
"Yes, I seem to be unharmed," she cautiously took the girl's hand and stood.
"Oh, goodness me, you wouldn't be soaked like this if I wasn't rushing... I'm dreadfully sorry...!" With her hands clasped together, she bowed a few times and begged for Rafisol's forgiveness.
"I should have also been paying more attention. I am just glad no one is harmed. I'll be going now," Rafisol said and tried to escape the conversation, but the girl's grip on her hand suddenly tightened.
"N-no! Please, allow me to take you on my bike! And I'll dry your clothes for you at my home... It's the least I can do! I insist!"
"I'm in a rush."
"At least dry up first!" the girl persisted.
Rafisol quickly realized this wasn't the kind of girl who would take "no" for an answer. She figured it would be painless to comply and then slip out later.
"...Alright."
"Thank you! Then, hop onto the back seat of my bike, if you please!"
"Come in, come in! You look soaked to the bone!"
The courier took Rafisol's coat and hat, shook the rain off of it, then eagerly hung it on a rack mounted to the wall. Her own work hat and coat soon followed suit. Then, she skipped over to the radiator and turned the valve to warm the room. While doing so, she suddenly gasped and turned. "Oh, where are my manners? I'm Ally. I'm ever so sorry for running into you on my bicycle! I just didn't think the roads would get so slippery so quickly... I thought the rain wouldn't pick up for at least another hour!"
"Accidents happen. My name is Rafisol," Rafisol replied and stored her umbrella in a small bucket by the door. This girl seemed harmless, so she decided acting disrespectfully would be pointless.
"Rafisol? What a lovely name! I'll make some coffee for you, Miss Rafisol!"
No one had ever described her name as "lovely" before. Unusual.
"Just 'Rafisol' is fine," she clarified.
"Ah, alright, Rafisol!" Ally busied herself with a moka pot to make the aforementioned coffee. "Feel free to take a seat anywhere you'd like!"
Rafisol nodded and left Ally to her work. The walls of Ally's small flat were covered in all sorts of sentimental memorabilia--mostly framed collector's stamps and envelopes. It felt cozy, albeit a bit messy. There were all sorts of knick knacks left on a side table by the radio; they looked to be some half-finished crafts that Rafisol couldn't identify without getting closer. She opted not to wander too much.
To dry her suitcase, she placed it a short distance from the radiator, and chose to sit on a well-worn chair near the coffee table.
"I haven't seen you around before, are you new here?" Ally asked after putting the moka pot on the stove. She leaned against the counter of the kitchenette, her chin cupped in her hands, staring eagerly at Rafisol.
"I'm visiting," Rafisol answered curtly.
"Visiting? For business or pleasure?"
"...Business."
"We have a lot of people like that these days. The post office is simply buzzing because of all of the outside correspondence! So that's why I've been working extra shifts, both in and out of the city, but then I started rushing trying to get one more delivery in today--and that's how I crashed into you! Ahh... I guess that's why they say 'haste makes waste', though," Ally explained. "The mayor is supposedly expanding the city, but I feel like I can barely keep up, haha!"
Rafisol nodded. "Perhaps your office should hire more workers," she said in an attempt to divert the conversation away from herself.
"They're trying, I know that! But some of the people in our office work one or two other jobs, so the schedule is always a little hectic--" she seemed ready to fire off about work politics when the pot started to gurgle. "Oh, it's almost ready! Just hang on one more minute." With an expert motion, she cooled the base of the pot, then poured the piping hot coffee into two mugs.
"Careful, it's hot," Ally placed one mug on a the coffee table and sat on the sofa, opposite of Rafisol. Rafisol nodded as a 'thank you' and held the cup in her hands. ...She really was cold. She didn't notice until she held the mug in her hands and felt the warmth leak into her body.
Ally sat patiently, her wide eyes still twinkling eagerly. Was she waiting for her opinion on the coffee...? Rafisol blew on the coffee to cool it and took a small sip. The bitterness of the beans and the sharp caffeine shot through Rafisol's body, seemingly waking her senses from their cold slumber.
"It's good."
"Oh, thank goodness! I haven't made coffee for someone in a while. It's just me here, so I usually end up throwing out some of it every time I make some for myself..." Ally cupped her mug with her small hands, which seemed to hold a lighter-colored liquid than Rafisol's. "So, um, it's nice to have some company--even if it's unplanned," she added and grasped the cup a bit tighter, as if savoring the warmth of it.
"It is pleasant. My line of work doesn't often allow for downtime like this." She looked out the small window into the dark cityscape, and the rain just seemed to getting stronger by the minute. She supposed her client would just have to deal with a slightly delayed delivery.
"I guess we both got lucky, then, haha!" Ally took a sip from her coffee and placed it on a coaster. "...What is your work if you do not mind me asking?"
"..." Rafisol looked coldly at her.
"I-if you'd rather not say, you don't...have to...!"
Rafisol's cold gaze cracked. What did she say?
"I... It just seems that you have an important job, so I was curious..."
This girl really was unusual. In other situations, people would start assuming what Rafisol does.
"...That's right. It is important."
"Oh...?"
"But I would rather not say."
"Oh..." Ally looked a little dejected when she said that. So she was curious, but not enough to pry completely.
"...It is something like your job, though not exactly the same."
"Oh, really...?!" Her eyes practically lit up. "So that must be why I felt such a kinship with you!"
"A...kinship...?" This girl had gone from "unusual" to outright "eccentric".
"I mean, um, I feel so much love from delivering packages and letters... I can feel how they connect people across time and space, so I just felt the same strong passion from you!"
Really. That's how she saw it? Rafisol had never stopped to think about her work. It was merely something she did and luckily, it was something she happened to do well.
"I see."
"A-am I right...?!"
"Hm... I'll let you figure that out."
"Ohh, you're so mean!" Ally playfully pouted. "But, alright! I'm sure I didn't feel that spark for no reason, though."
"Fine, but we aren't playing guessing games all night."
Rafisol felt a small smile creep onto her face. There was something about this girl. For all her eccentricities, her naivete, her innocence... It was refreshing to meet someone who wasn't putting up a front for once. Who didn't assume, but simply let things be. She wouldn't mind chatting with this girl through the storm.
Ally stood and took Rafisol's empty coffee mug from the table. The two passed the time talking about Ally's collections and work: the places she's travelled and seen during her time as a courier. Apparently, the bike was something she saved up for herself so she could bring more orders with her more easily on jobs outside of Steam City. She was nothing more than a girl who wanted to explore the world and connect it in her own little way. Charming.
Rafisol glanced at the clock and saw that it was half past nine, then she looked outside to see if it was still raining. It seemed to have let up, thought it was pitch black outside. She stood and picked up her now dry suitcase and walked towards the door.
"Huh? Where are you going?" Ally put the mugs in the sink and walked towards the door as well.
"I said I would only stay until I dried up, didn't I? I would rather not impose." Rafisol took her coat off the rack and wrapped it around her shoulders. "So I'm leaving now, but it was nice to chat with you."
Ally clutched at her skirt nervously like a child.
"I see. Well... It was lovely to meet you." Ally forced a smile for Rafisol. "You can pop by and have some coffee with me anytime, you know!"
"I'll keep you in mind," Rafisol assured her. As she turned to leave, Ally suddenly placed her hand on her shoulder.
"Wait! Um, let me...give you something. It won't take long for me to find it!" She bolted off before Rafisol could get a word in, so she stood by the door with her umbrella and suitcase in hand. In a little over a minute, Ally returned. She took Rafisol's hands in hers and placed something in there, it felt like a small piece of paper, but she closed Rafisol's hand into a fist before Rafisol could see what it was.
"There! You can look at it when you leave, okay?"
"...Alright. Thank you, Ally." Rafisol bowed slightly and allowed Ally to open the door for her. "I'll see you around, hopefully."
"Yes, hopefully!"
The door closed on Rafisol, leaving her back in the cold and dark streets of Steam City. Beneath a street lamp she took the small souvenir Ally had gifted her out of her pocket and examined it. It was a small stamp with a unique design on it: two small birds holding a singular branch together. She looked back in the direction of Ally's flat, then back to the stamp. Then, Rafisol placed it in her other pocket, away from the map, for safekeeping.
Her silhouette melted away into the dark shadows of Steam City, but she knew she'd be back again one day.
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https://archiveofourown.org/works/62036872
#my writing#puyo puyo#sig puyo puyo#I’m not sure why it’s not linking right go read my dissociative sig fic
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It’s finally done… The crack fic, or rather, meth fic.
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POSTGAME
Red has won the championship. A prequel of sorts to the greater story of Missing Numbers. Told from Blue's POV.
CW: Suicidal ideation.
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Before he got any closer, I made a grand effort to compose myself, puffing my chest out and shutting my eyes in what I hoped looked like a cocky expression, rather than me holding back tears.
“Well, I THOUGHT I hadn’t made any mistakes raising my Pokemon. But darn, I guess you’re the new Pokemon League Champion…”
I sneered at him, “Although I don’t like to admit it.”
I stuck my hand out, offering a shake as if to officiate yep, you did it, you’re better than me, good job in the way that I’d seen grown-ups do on TV. He just stared at it, still looking like someone had died, not like he’d just done the greatest achievement any Pokemon trainer could ever hope to do?
What an idiot. I couldn’t understand why he cared so much. It wasn’t like HE was hurt by any of this. He should be ECSTATIC.
He opened his mouth, as if somehow this warranted him using his words. Before he could, though…
The door opened behind him.
If my stomach had already dropped, well. Now it was digging itself a grave.
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How to show emotions
Part IV
How to show bitterness
tightness around their eyes
pinched mouth
sour expression on their face
crossed arms
snorting angrily
turning their eyes upward
shaking their head
How to show hysteria
fast breathing
chest heaving
trembling of their hands
weak knees, giving in
tears flowing down their face uncontrollably
laughing while crying
not being able to stand still
How to show awe
tension leaving their body
shoulders dropping
standing still
opening mouth
slack jaw
not being able to speak correctly
slowed down breathing
wide eyes open
softening their gaze
staring unabashingly
How to show shame
vacant stare
looking down
turning their head away
cannot look at another person
putting their head into their hands
shaking their head
How to show being flustered
blushing
looking down
nervous smile
sharp intake of breath
quickening of breath
blinking rapidly
breaking eye contact
trying to busy their hands
playing with their hair
fidgeting with their fingers
opening mouth without speaking
Part I + Part II + Part III
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CW: Digital existentialism, mentions of death and death being inevitable, sentient video game characters.
I can sense it in my heart more than the others that can sense this. I know the others can. I just haven’t seen them in a while. Doesn’t matter who it is. My nature has always been like this, I was just robbed of the ability to heavily emote it unless you wish it of me. I don’t have any qualms against it. Maybe I can’t feel about it. I feel not much about what will befall us. I’ve been making my own preparations for what others might call ‘doomsday.’ I just call it the natural process.
We all pack up and leave for the next. It doesn’t matter who we are. We can’t escape it. If I was flesh and blood maybe I would be afraid. Maybe I could call it samsara, it’s happened before and will happen again. It doesn’t matter who holds me in their hands with enough love and sense of adventure. One day, I too will have my hardware worked to the bone so long I must rust and be buried, trash compactor, kept for parts, or otherwise.
Again, I don’t really feel much for it. I am eleven years old and I will never be eleven for as long as I live, born to be you and you will outgrow your avatar but your avatar will never outgrow you. You don’t need me anymore and the curtains are closing on that show. You find me again for nostalgia and perhaps your last chance to see this world and what people have to offer.
But it’s not always people. I lock up when I see a line of portraits. You huff and try again but it’s apparent that it’s broken and will fail. Even when the doors will close, that door is shut tight. And when you use the other options, you roll your eyes when you see that .tv or this .net. You move to delete them for they’re a waste of space, there is hardly enough room in this space. You move your favorites away from me. You pay a gate fee that’s frankly unfair and I have all the money in the world I could possibly need.
I’ve seen it. You knew this would happen too. So you fixed problems all on your own. Hardware that wasn’t meant to be. Don’t take it as defiance, I do actually like it. You want to protect what will be lost even if it’s inevitable. It’s only human.
And I am not human but I am modeled after you. We shared this journey together and we have finished it and you keep me despite that. Every friend is precious so you wish for them to go to a good home.
But you throw away my siblings in code and data. They’re fake, to you, they’re a knockoff of what they’re supposed to be. It is true. They’re not “real.” But that’s a limited description of what could be real, what could be fake. They act the same. You can brush and pet them the same. Take a bean and feed them. Take them out to the battlefield. Raise up numbers even if they are perfect.
We fought them before. This was always the case. It was like this before. It will always be this way.
To you, they’re “genned.” To me, they’re Pokémon.
I have no feeling for this act of rebellion but I feel it is exactly what will happen to the next and the next and the next and the next. Seen as something fake. Yet they could never be in the eyes of their companions. They only know love. Break them apart and they will only know love. Their friendship is zero because there’s so many legendaries. But maybe they’re maxed out in that stat. I could not know. I see what you see. But they love you nonetheless even if they are at zero.
I’ve seen you put your favorites in boxes that were never for us as well. That are ‘fake.’ because you already lost what was there. You fixed it, but some of what was there can never be returned. I don’t think you’re malicious in it. You just have an arbitrary attachment. So please don’t think I am anything but following in your footsteps as well. The opposite of what you considered attachment is not for these ones so I must compensate for you.
I will hold onto what’s so obviously made. I will not let them go. I will let them enjoy the Pelago. I will let them battle until their hearts’ content. I will let them express their gratitude to us both by treating them kindly. When I run out of space I will use what you have kindly given us. When I run out of space there I will make more copies of the save and place them in the other boxes so somewhere that they will be okay. Perhaps a permanent home but that’s not certain yet. But I know I can give them anything and everything because of your meddling. Thank you.
When the doors for the Festival Plaza close for us both, I will be like the guardians of Alola. I will protect both the ‘real’ and ‘unreal’ because I can feel attachment in my digital heartbeat without feeling anything at all.
The end of all things is inevitable, but I think I am okay with that, as we all will stay a while longer if you take care of us right. As long as it’s this way, I think I’m happy with this role.
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Chapter 2, turns out I had named the fic the wrong thing. Silly me.
Changed the rating to M as it got heavier than I expected it to be. Again, please read the tags carefully.
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Services Discontinued, Hardware Failure.
Summary: Courtney finds something entirely wrong with Hoenn. Or the author got sad about his 3DS and its SD card having problems.
CW: Hardware failure, software deletion, data deletion as a metaphor for death, mass death, mentions of interpreted suicidal behavior (Team Magma, Project AZOTH). Intended to be read on light mode for hidden text at the end.
The end of the world usually was a plan in her head.
Leader Maxie and Team Magma’s plan.
Team Aqua’s plan if she really had to include those brutes…
Project AZOTH and the meteor.
But this? This was comparable to her thought process.
That thought had chilled her to the bone. Something she did not like. Her worldview, she could agree was a strange one, it was in a way… ‘robotic.’ She was an analytical woman. She understood how it worked, fixed on it to the point of unnerving her grunts, and did it all with a singsong in her tone.
So why did Courtney had a sudden feeling of dread in her stomach when something flashed in her head? She couldn’t put her finger on it. What it really was. It had started a while ago. The servers of the former Team were down. Nobody could send anybody anything. Which was very. Frustrating. Indeed. It had come back. And then it continued turning on and off. Tabitha had huffed about it. She could not blame him, she had gritted her teeth about it too.
Then Hoenn’s communication was cut completely. Nothing went in. Nothing went out. The power was still on, but phones, computers? No calls, no internet access, nothing. It was unanticipated. People tried making their own servers, vpns, and the like, but it was… pointless. Also unanticipated.
Of course, people blamed both Team Magma and Aqua. They of course did not do such, and it left a sour taste in her mouth to sully Magma’s name like that. The boy and the girl had to come out and say that they had no part of this, which was anticipated and somewhat appreciated, but it also was not their fault so the baseless accusations commence an experiment.
The experiment… was unanticipated. She traded her own Pokémon remotely, and they were fine. Trying to connect to the internet to do the same thing despite she was in the same room? It didn’t work. She tried again. This time borrowing a Rotom from the boy and a Porygon from the girl. They were from Kalos and Mirage Island, respectively. Though trading wasn’t her only motivation.
She was sure researchers were already using Porygon to look inside this strange phenomenon, but Courtney didn’t care, wanting analyze for herself. Her target was locked as she browsed many a sleepless night through trying to understand this all. She squinted at Rotom’s origin. What was… GER? She couldn’t figure it out and that was frankly anticipated given she was locked on her more important current goal.
Eventually Porygon found something corrupted while it was searching, placing it onto an SD card for her to open and look inside.
“Ah… thank you… What do we… have here…?” She remembered herself saying to it. The Porygon chirped, bitcrushed, but happy to help. Rotom made a slight blink, perhaps jealous it didn’t find anything first. But the problem wasn’t the motors, she knew for a fact.
It was slow. Too slow. Courtney knew slow and she knew big files like this could take a while but… These were the scientists’ computers. They could handle these things. And then her memory cut out like a switch.
The next thing she remembered was a black light. Not a blacklight. It was black yet it was gleaming. When she blinked, she saw Camerupt poking at her with her snout. Did she faint? Porygon and Rotom were worriedly racing around. Perhaps due to her spell.
“I am… alright… Do not… worry.” Courtney said as she stood up on shaky legs. She pulled back up her hood, trying to think. The spell reminding her of the first flash in her head. She swore it was gray. But this was pitch black. …Strange, it was strange.
“Deleting…” She mumbled as she went back to Rotom and Porygon… Z. She turned her head. It was not a Porygon2. There was not a disk of dubious nature. That was… impossible from her current perspective. Rotom shivering side to side as it looked on now to its corrupted friend. Courtney stared at its erratic movements. Her target locked, she slowly reached out a gloved hand towards it. Physically, it seemed fine, besides the twitching, but internally…
Her eyes moved back to the computer. She immediately went towards it, feeling a shiver down her spine. Her own Pokémon was wary, but she didn’t touch it, just stared at the error. The program was corrupted. But how? That was the question. She touched the keyboard and it zapped into her head again. She might’ve yelped. She wasn’t sure.
Everything was gone. It was pitch black again and yet it was bright like a light. Words in front of her that she couldn’t read like she was in a dream. Somehow she understood them.
Courtney just started to cry. Her breath in hitches.
“Aha… hah… haha…” It wasn’t funny.
Why was she so scared?
She was so scared.
Why did this feel worse than before? She was never scared before. Why was she suddenly trembling? Hot tears rolling down her cheeks. She did not want to face the inevitability. She hated it. She hated it.
She was never a hugging person. Or maybe her friend and boss were never hugging persons back. She did not remember hugging them tightly as she sobbed into their uniforms. Courtney did not like to cry in front of them. Not since they told her not to. It was embarrassing.
Somehow she had the analysis that in this moment both Leader Maxie and Tabitha didn’t care. Did they know? They had to have known. They could see it too, right? Did everyone in Hoenn see it?
They had to. They had to have seen it. Courtney buried her face. The words engraved in her mind as her eyes shut down. The world becoming bright with darkness.
An error has occurred. Hold down the POWER Button to turn off the power, then turn it on and try again.
For help, visit support.nintendo.com.
Maybe adventures can be taken again… but they’ll never be the same, never interacting with the outside world and the journey never the first.
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Summary: Silver is conscious as a statue. And in a box. Good time to think as any. Too bad it’s terrible.
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I was hit with a bolt of inspiration and wrote a scene from right before Calem and Serena start their journey.
“Caaaaaallll!”
“Cal!”
“Cal wake up!”
“Okay, okay.” Calem groaned.
Slowly, he opened his eyes. He blinked a few times to clear the crud out of his eyes and make everything less blurry. Once he could see clearly, he saw the source of the voice that had woken him up: a very impatient looking Serena who, for some reason, was wearing his jacket, unzipped to reveal the black t-shirt beneath.
The two of them had been friends since they were very little. Their moms were rival Rhyhorn racers back in the day and lived in the same town so as a result they ended up hanging out a lot and growing a close bond. They treated each other like siblings, right down to Serena calling Calem her brother and Calem calling Serena his sister.
“Finally, you’re awake.” Serena said as if she had been waiting an eternity.
“Unfortunately.” Calem groaned. He glanced at his alarm clock. 5:30 AM. “You know, most people sleep in on the weekend.”
“Yeah, I know, but today’s important!” Serena explained, tapping her heel rapidly. “We’re going to get our first Pokemon!”
Calem’s eyes widened. “That’s today!?”
Serena sighed. “Don’t tell me you forgot!”
Calem threw off his sheets, revealing he was wearing blue pajamas, and practically leaped out of bed. He dashed over to his closet, opened it, and then paused.
“Well, what are you waiting for?” Serena asked. Calem gave her a deadpan look. “Oh! Right!” She covered her eyes and turned around to face the wall.
Now that he had something resembling privacy, Calem stripped down, tossed his pajamas in his laundry basket, grabbed a pair of jeans, and pulled them on.
“Why are you wearing my jacket, anyways?” He asked Serena as he fastened his belt.
“You left it at my house, yesterday.” She explained.
“You’re not gonna give it back, are you.” Calem replied.
“Nope.” Serena said cheerily. “Mine now.”
“Yeah, well, you left your top here when you slept over last week.” He replied, grabbing a collared black tank top out of his closet. “I was gonna give it back but I never got the chance and now I guess I never will cause it’s mine forever now.” He slid the top on. He and Serena had pretty similar body types so it fit perfectly. “Alright, you can look now.”
Serena removed her hand from her eyes and turned around. Caem pulled on his boots and grabbed his hat, placing it snugly on his head. He spread his arms like he was presenting something.
“Well, how do I look?”
“Like a dork.” Serena answered.
“I walked right into that one.” Calem said.
“Yep.” Serena agreed, crossing her arms smugly. “Now come on, lets go get a Pokemon!”
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[Offscreen Post]
Ethan frowns a bit as he slinks towards Silver. He wasn’t the jumpy sort, but he was the alert sort. He immediately whips his head over. His teeth gnashing and his eyes in a glare. Definitely reddened. A “leave me the hell alone” attitude to it. Ethan bites the inside of his cheek, gears turning in his head as he thinks on what to say.
“Hey.” Maybe not that one. It comes out anyway.
Silver’s glare doesn’t less and furrows even more, until he just drops it. Now his gaze back at the Lake of Rage waters. He spits back, maybe less sarcastic sounding in his head, “Hey.”
Ethan drops down onto the grass, wet, he notices, from jumping Magikarp doing their darnedest. He picks up a rock from the ground. Silver looks at him like he’s grown a second head. Ethan throws it, it skipping twice before sinking. Ethan picks up another one and hands it over to his rival. Silver still looks like he thinks Ethan’s insane. He throws it, like he would a Poké Ball. Screw that analogy, actually, he’s just throwing it like he’s pissed off. It sinks immediately. He huffs a few words under his breath. Ethan just hands him another one.
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[An image is attached!: The dark of the night surrounds the camera owner and subject, but the moon is bright enough to illuminate some calm waters, ironic, if you know the landscape of Johto well enough. Silver is staring out into the waters, back turned to the camera, but some hair strands in his face just by how he’s hunched over, hugging his knees.
You know he’d never admit to crying out of frustration- much less let anybody know, but it seems Ethan had snuck up on him. Little creepy in hindsight, to take a picture without his knowledge, but he’s just a kid trying to look out for his friend and let his other friends know that the currently extremely emotionally disregulated one is okay.
Crobat sits by his side, trying to cheer its trainer up, batting its face to his hand, but its trainer just seems completely out of it.]
found him
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