#anyway incredible developments. i walked at 7am this morning and i was JUST missing the blue hour

[depresseddepot]

good news: I think I discovered when, how, and WHERE to take walks without feeling like I'm being hunted

[horsegirlhob]

Dan and Phil are actually outside for an extended period of time cause Pokemon Ch. 2

Summary: When he was 18, Phil Lester decided not to go on a Pokemon journey. But now he’s graduated university and he has no idea where his life is headed. So he decides to get a starter Pokemon and fly to the Kalos region to collect all eight badges and maybe figure out what to do with himself.

Dan Howell just graduated from high school and is not hesitating to start his Pokemon journey. He just wants to escape the little town he grew up in and maybe actually become something worthwhile.

Lets see what happens shall we?

word count: 2534

chapter 1 is here 

if you prefer ao3

Warnings: None that I know of?

a/n: So here’s the second chapter of this incredibly self-indulgent fanfic. We meet Dan in this chapter who I think I write better than Phil? But idk, tell me what you think. Also big thank you to my beta @theflowerybean! reblogs are really appreciated 

Dan hated the mornings more than anything else in the world. And that included himself, which was saying something. That being said, this was one thing he refused to be late for. He had waited 18 years for the chance to get out of this godforsaken town and he wasn’t about to throw away that chance because he slept in and the professor lost patience.  

        Slipping into a pair of black skinny jeans, Dan glanced at his reflection in the mirror leaning against his wall. No fringe gaps, no stains on his favourite eclipse t-shirt, and he had taken a shower last night. He was ready.

        “I’m going into town!” Dan yelled back into the house, slipping on his shoes and throwing on a hoodie. There was no response but Dan didn’t yell it again. His parents knew where he was going anyways.

        Walking out into the spacious yard, Dan let out a sharp whistle. Before long, pokemon started creeping out of the bushes and trees. “Hey guys,” Dan smiled, kneeling down next to an old flareon that had been nuzzling at his foot. “Hey girl, how’ve you been?” The flareon made a noise of contentment and Dan smiled, scratching behind her ears. “That’s good. I’m glad.

        Before long, Dan was surrounded by almost twenty eeveelutions. His family ran a breeding and wellness center for eevee and their evolutions, and Dan had been helping out since he was old enough to walk. If there was one thing he was going to miss from this place, it was the eevees. Although…

        “Where’s Loki?” he asked a nearby umbreon. The umbreon didn’t reply and Dan frowned, confused. Until that is, he was nearly knocked over by a ball of fluff that descended upon him from a nearby oak.

        “Oof! Hey there Loki.” Dan managed to grab the eevee clinging to his hoodie by the scruff of their neck. Loki squeaked indignantly and tried to nip playfully at Dan’s fingers. Dan dumped Loki unceremoniously on the grass in front of him. “You know, if you keep attacking me like that, I might just leave you here,” Dan threatened jokingly. He would never actually leave Loki here. He had raised Loki from an egg, and the thought of leaving his best friend behind was preposterous.

        Loki, despite knowing this, whined and drooped his ears in a way that they knew Dan found adorable. Dan sighed, ruffling the fur on top of Loki’s head. “Oh don’t you start with that innocent act. We both know you’re a little demon.”  Then again, Dan was sure he would be glad for Loki’s violent tendencies when he started challenging gym leaders.

        “We should be going.” Dan grunted, pushing himself back into a standing position. Loki perked up immediately- the little faker – and clawed his way onto Dan’s shoulder like he was some kind of glorified tree. “Oh, so now you want to be friendly. Let’s get going then. Don’t want to leave the professor waiting.”         As Dan made his way down the long path to Aquacorde town, he zipped up his hoodie against the chilly morning air. He never did like getting up this early. But it was a small price to pay for a proper starter pokemon.

        Dan’s family was a liaison of the Kalos science association. They helped with research on eevee and it’s evolutions. Though their part in that research came mainly in the form of providing large quantities of eevee to study. It did come with perks though. Turns out one such perk is professor Sycamore making a slight detour through Aquacorde town with three starter pokemon for Dan to choose from.

        He needn’t have bothered bringing all three considering Dan had made his choice four years ago. But if the man wanted to carry around two extra pokeballs, Dan wasn’t about to tell him how to live his life.

        Finally, Dan started to see the beige sandstone that made up literally all of Aquacorde town. Dan unconsciously picked up the pace,  his heart beating faster in his excitement. He had gotten his trainer card a few days ago, and once he got his registered starter,he would be able to leave. He could finally go somewhere, anywhere else.

        Making his way down the sandstone streets, Dan prayed he wouldn’t see any of his old classmates. It was early enough in the morning that there were only a few people wandering around, but you never knew who could be lurking about. You’re almost gone Dan. This time tomorrow you’ll be gone and you won’t have to see anyone from this town ever again. He repeated his little mantra to himself as he made his way to the café where he had agreed to meet Sycamore.

        He spotted the professor immediately upon walking into the town’s main square. He was seated at one of the café tables, sipping some hot beverage that Dan could really go for right about now. Then again, he was probably jittery enough already without caffeine in his system.

        “Professor Sycamore?” Dan asked,startling the professor out of his thoughts.

        “Ah, yes! My apologies. You must be Daniel?” Sycamore stood hurriedly, shaking Dan’s hand rather aggressively, in his humble opinion.

        “Just Dan is fine. Thank you for meeting me here.” Dan tried to keep professional, despite feeling severely underdressed. Sycamore was wearing a full on lab coat, and Dan couldn’t help but remember that the professor came from Lumiose city, and Dan was born and raised on a glorified farm. Sycamore didn’t really seem to mind Dan’s appearance, shaking his head dismissively.

        “Oh, it’s no trouble, truly! It’s quite exciting to be the one to see a new trainer off on their journey. And your parents have told me nothing but good things  about you.” Sycamore reassured. Although Dan was not entirely reassured, because if his parents had told Sycamore about him, then that meant that he had something to live up to. And historically, Dan was not good at living up to expectations.

        “Come here my boy, have a seat. Do you want anything to drink? The cappuccinos here are delicious!” Dan sat down awkwardly across from Sycamore, who seemed way too enthusiastic for 7am.

        “Um no that’s okay. I don’t really have any money on me so I can’t-“

        “Oh don’t worry about it Daniel! I can buy your cappuccino. You must be very sleepy getting up so early in the morning.” The professor offered, before Dan could even finish his sentence.

        “Just Dan is fine. And you really don’t have to, I’m not that sleepy, and I don’t want to be an inconvenience.” Despite Dan’s protests, Sycamore flagged down a nearby waiter and ordered two cappuccinos, seeing as he had finished his and apparently had some kind of crippling addiction.

        “Now Daniel,” Sycamore started after their waiter went to fetch their coffee, “I’m not just here to drink cappuccinos by the river. I’m here because you just turned 18.” Dan nodded, leaning forward just a bit in anticipation. He had been looking forwards to this since his birthday a few weeks ago. It was hard to believe it was actually happening right now.

        “And as we all know, when you turn 18, you are given the choice to receive your trainers license and start your pokemon journey. But of course, to do that you need an official starter, which is why I’m here today. To give you said starter.”

        Sycamore reached down under his chair to pull out a very worn looking briefcase. He placed it on  the table just as the server arrived with their cappuccinos, which they both thanked her for, before turning their attention back onto the matter at hand.

        Snapping open the latches on the briefcase, Sycamore continued his explanation. “Now I’m sure you already know what three starters we offer here in the Kalos region, but I am legally obligated to tell you, so I’ll keep it brief.” Sycamore opened the briefcase and removed three shrunken pokeballs, which he placed on the table between them.

        “Try the cappuccino. You’ll love it.” Sycamore said, taking a sip of his own and letting out a sigh of contentment. Dan took a sip of his impatiently, almost burning his tongue. It was admittedly very good. But Dan wasn’t here to drink coffee, and he was starting to get a little bit impatient.                 “So, as you can see, there are three starters. The fire starter fennekin, the grass starter chespin, and the water starter froakie.” Sycamore listed off the starters as he released them each from their pokeballs. Dan had to move his cappuccino to avoid it being spilt in his lap by fennekin.

        “Do you already know which one you want Daniel?”

        “Dan’s fine.” Dan replied absentmindedly, “And yes, I do actually know which one I want.”

        When Dan had started actually thinking seriously about becoming a pokemon trainer, the very first thing he had done was look at his starter choices. At first he had wanted fennekin. It was cute, and Dan already really loved fire types. But, comparing it to the other two, fennekin and its evolutions fell short.

        Dan had considered chespin as well, and while he thought that it would be a decent choice, Dan ultimately decided that chespin just wasn’t very suited to the battling style Dan was starting to develop with Loki and the other eevee.

        Froakie however, fit the bill perfectly. Not only did he seem like the most logical choice for Dan, he was also a frog. And you could never go wrong with a frog, is something that Dan has never said before in his life but is probably very true.

        Dan reached out his hand to the little blue starter, smiling down at him. “Whadda ya think Froakie. Would you like to come with me?” Froakie croaked in excitement and jumped onto his arm, climbing up to sit on Dan’s only vacant shoulder. “I’ll take that as a yes then.”

        “Do you have any plans for when you’re going to head out?” Sycamore asked, returning the other two pokemon to their respective balls, rifling again through his suitcase.

        “I think I’m going to spend the rest of today packing and getting to know froakie a little bit better. Then tomorrow I’ll start making my way through santalune forest.” Dan had considered leaving immediately, and he had to admit it was tempting to just up and go. He had been waiting for this day for so long, and the thought that he had to wait any longer to get out of this stupid town was an unhappy one.

        But he did have things he wanted to say goodbye to. Also, he still had a few things to pack before he left. He had waited this long, he could wait one more day.

        “That sounds like a good plan Daniel. Now, here’s your pokedex and froakie’s pokeball. Although, he seems pretty comfy where he is. And here are five other pokeballs for you to use along your way.” Sycamore slid the objects across the table, and Dan picked up the red pokedex curiously. He’d seen them before, but he’d never had one of his own.

        Dan and Sycamore talked for a while longer as they finished their cappuccinos. Sycamore seemed very interested in Dan’s plans, and Dan had to scramble to come up with anything meaningful. His plans consisted of “Leave home, go train pokémon, beat the gyms, elite four?” But that was starting to feel exceptionally juvenile.

        He had no guarantee that he could defeat the gyms. He especially had no guarantee he could challenge the elite four. He was just some kid with no friends, no money, and no experience.  He also had no backup plan for if this whole pokemon trainer thing ended up being too much for him. And god, he had just accepted a pokemon. A pokemon who could have had the chance to go on a journey with a trainer who knew what they were doing. A trainer who wouldn’t have days where they couldn’t do more than roll over in bed. What had he just gotten them into?

        Dan felt a familiar warmth press against his left cheek, grounding him. Loki rubbed their face affectionately against Dan’s , and he felt a small smile slip onto his face. Maybe he didn’t know what he was doing. But, he had Loki. And this new froakie, that he was going to have to figure out a name for very soon. They could get through this. He would figure something out.

        “You have a good day Daniel.” Professor sycamore stood after paying their bill, sticking out his hand for Dan to shake.

        “Just Dan is fine. And thank you for going out of your way to be here. And for the coffee. You’re very generous.”

        “It’s no trouble. No trouble at all. I look forward to seeing how you progress as a trainer from here on out Daniel. You should come by my lab when you go through Lumios city, and we can catch up,” Sycamore gave Dan’s hand a good final shake before letting go to collect his briefcase.

        “I would like that professor. I’ll see you then.”

        With one final wave outside the café, the two went their separate ways. The sun had risen significantly while Dan had been talking to Professor Sycamore, and the streets were getting steadily more crowded. On a sunny Saturday morning like this, tons of people were going for morning walks, and Dan was weary of running into anyone he knew, especially from school.

        Dan took a slightly roundabout route  through a few shady alleyways, before he finally reached the edge of town. Froakie had abandoned his perch on Dan’s shoulder en lieu of hopping jauntily alongside him. Loki however, was used to Dan’s walking patterns after so many years and stayed put, apparently too lazy to walk.

        As they made their way back up the winding dirt road, Dan turned to look down at his starter pokemon, who was looking around frantically, trying to take in all that he could of the scenery.

        “I think we need to give you a name, don’t we?” Dan pondered, and froakie croaked in agreement.  “Alright, how about Fenrir. No no, that’s weird, uh… Collin? No that’s also weird…”

        Dan spent the rest of the walk listing off dozens of names. Often times, he would veto them himself before they were even fully out of his mouth. And a few of the ones he did like didn’t seem to work quite as well for froakie himself. By the time the house started coming into sight, Dan was on the verge of loosing hope.

        “Ugh, god I don’t know. How about Dante?” It was a little strange, Dan had to admit. It was more a human name than a pokemon name, although that didn’t much matter to him. And if froakies excited croak was anything to go by, he also liked the name.

        “So we’re gonna go with Dante?” Froakie croaked in agreement and Dan grinned a little bit. “Finally, we’ve got you a name. Welcome aboard Dante. Let’s hope I don’t mess this whole thing up.”

Tag list: 

@burnt-sienna-soup-ladles, @secret-society-of-bread @phanunsolved, @ocotopushugs, @dans-mistletongue, @amarytaile, @littledrummerdan, @rosecandy2005 

If you want to be added to the tag list just lemme know:) 

[inexchangeforyoursoul]

.... I never put chapter 20 on here, did I. Double chapters it is. (20. Katja & 21. Once upon a dream)

this time with AN included as-is, I’m too lazy to rewrite this shit for the tumbler

(who even reads fanfics on here...? fanfiction.net AO3)

20. Katja

As he arrives in his room, Law takes a quick look at his alarm clock, then a deep, ragged breath immediately after... she's out loafing around again, isn't she. He's a little ticked off, not gonna lie; first of all, because of... this. She just keeps doing this. Which would be less of a problem if she'd show any progress, but she's not. Second, he's tired, terribly so. All sleep he's had today was the unplanned nap in the canteen early morning, and the ounce of patience he's gained from that has ran out. He's just about to leave the indifferent coma period behind where you can just keep going and going, until your emotions start to get hard to control. Even later, you become an actual zombie and eventually black out. In his own body, that would happen in about 24 hours from now, but in this one? Already there.

And the underlying source of it is that he's grown totally paranoid.

That's why he hasn't managed to get any shuteye. Or get anything else done. His own shadow spooked him once, for fuck's sake... and it's all because of that godforsaken alleyway adventure, which really drove home how utterly helpless and vulnerable he is at the moment. Deer in the fucking headlights. He's straight-up disgusted with himself.

He stomps up to the surface; anyone noticing him remains silent and makes sure to keep out. His crew knows this way of walking... and are not eager to provoke his thinly veiled ire.

He just came from the dining hall, she won't be there. On deck of the Polar Tang, nothing except so much light that his tired eyes may as well go blind right now. The dull headache that missed its appointment the other day just arrived uninvited, too... all it took was some natural light and fresh air. Glorious.

He climbs the rope ladder to the Sunny; noone's around the steering wheel, but he can hear, and see some people around; he goes straight up to them.

“Nico-ya,” he calls out from afar; “do you know where the hell she's at?”

“I'm... in heaven,” he hears right next to him as soon as he's finished talking. He stops in his tracks, looks, and sees... quite something, he supposes. It's throwing him for enough a loop to be more dumbfounded than pissed for the time being.

The bottom of the pile is a knocked-out Bepo; leaning onto him are Carrot, who's also out cold, and Kat, who has a very relaxed, leg-swinging Chopper in her lap. They all have a cup in their hand or lying around, just like Nami, Robin and his good-for-nothing crewmates a bit further away.

As he doesn't react fast enough past getting worked up again over them hogging his personal couch and a mouthed 'what the hell,' she speaks up again. “It's nice, warm and fluffy here~ Wanna join?”

… she's taunting him. Kat has no idea, but she's fucking taunting him right fucking now. Any other day or time, he'd gladly lean onto Bepo and have a damn good early afternoon nap, or any other kind of nap, really. But today is not the day. He'd love to, yes; it's the best fucking quality sleep he has access to. Usually. But because Bepo is wide awake from around 6pm to 7am, he can't use him as a pillow at all while rotting in his room, keeping one eye on this girl during the time he actually could be doing that. Just... take a deep, deep breath. Stay calm, man. Stay. Calm.

He sighs, clenching his fists, and now that Kat's actually looked at him, he can already see from her mildly worried expression that she's catching onto his current mood. “... Kat-ya... I swear to god...”

Hearing that changes her reaction with some delay, however... the smallest smile appears on her face which she tries to suppress; she locks her hands and takes a long sniff of air while looking skyward. Soon, she gives up on hiding her glee, and a shit eating grin appears on her face and she just looks very, very pleased with herself. “... I've been waiting for this.”

“... what?!” Law frowns, having no idea what got into her. Was it something he said? It has to be.

She doesn't seem fazed and keeps giggling to herself while lifting a just as confused Chopper from her lap and slowly standing up.

“Oh, oh!! I understand!” speaks up the reindeer snickering soon after as he comes to the solution; “That's your name, it was on the tag at the coffee shop! Katja! Ha ha ha!”

… oh. Oh. Jesus, really? Law lifts his hands to his chin as if praying instead of giving into his initial urge to smack himself on the temples; he knew that it's an abbreviation, but he'd have never thought that the original was that of all things... and she's been fucking waiting for him to accidentally pun on it. And, on top of it all, this might be... no, it certainly is the very first time he called her by name, too. Why him... and why now. … he could cry if it weren't for his pride. So instead he squeezes his eyes shut and is furrowing his brows really, really hard to keep it together.

He can hear her stop in front of him, then, after a few seconds, he feels the most delicate  little tap-tap of four fingers on his shoulder; cracking an eye open, he can see Kat holding out a half empty cup of coffee. Is... she offering this...?

“I suppose you need this more than I do,” she says. It could be just his imagination, but it certainly sounds like her voice is softer than usual. Considering the vague throbs of his head, this is lowkey appreciated.

“Um...” As he's vacillating how to handle this development, a half-conscious Bepo woken by the racket trots over and pulls both of them into a literal, but way gentler bear hug than what other people have been experiencing that day. The content of the cup survives this, somehow, and Kat is holding it out to the side.

“I miss captain,” the mink mumbles, then probably falls back asleep on his feet. At least he doesn't really move for a solid minute afterwards and is just rocking a bit to keep some kind of balance.

Peeking up towards Bepo, a sad smile appears on Kat's face. She reaches over with her free hand along the orange-clad pelt with a sigh and gives Law an awkward hug of her own, then breathes a 'garchu' into his hat. He can't help being startled and shrink a bit in surprise at this; hopefully the others don't notice anything of that past the tic of his shoulders.

“Sorry, didn't mean to stay out for long,” she says then; “I can see you are not up for bullshit today.”

Sometimes... she's as giggly as Carrot. At others, almost as apologetic as Bepo. She also tends to be physical, even if for split seconds... uses people as hunting targets, and now she's picked up mink-brand hospitality both in theory and practice. This girl must have been one of them, or some animal, in a previous life.

He groan-sighs; that spark of patience? These two just managed to raise it from the dead. Somehow. The mood swings devoured his energy to try and push away, though, or to just get worked up again about the affection of a still-kind-of-a-stranger. Now, hold on, my dude... try to not embarrass yourself by falling the fuck asleep in this incredibly comfortable and safe-feeling hug roll right now.

“... let go of me, knuckleheads,” he grunts, nestling around after the short pause he needed to pull himself together. From the corner of his eye, he can see a very pleased Robin. And Penguin and Shachi slurping away at their own coffee in unison at an incredibly slow pace while staring at him specifically. At least that's what Nami does, who's likely sporting the very same expression as the other two, after all.

They all look so infuriatingly smug.

“So, what I wanted to say... I've just had two cups, but thanks,” he addresses Kat a second later as Bepo shambles back to his previous location with an 'aye aye;' the semi-wake Carrot appreciates this and doesn't hesitate to hog double the space than before she got knocked off as soon as he lies down. Chopper sips from his extra sweet mocaccino while also settling back down, and is silently wondering why she even asked for coffee if she was about to take a nap.

Suppressing a yawn with all his might, Law continues; “... and I think I've mentioned it already, but don't do that. The touching.” … yeah, he did mention it, albeit offhandedly. Occasional pats and pokes are okay, but he's not gonna list an entire 'Trafalgar D. Water Law's Personal Space: A Rule Book' right now. Or ever, really. People either know their shit or they don't, and get away with shit or they don't.

“Oh, right... sorry,” Kat mumbles nervously as she recalls the vague memory. Never mind, she definitely is as apologetic as his navigator. As she prepares to gulp the rest of her drink down in one go, she stops; “You sure you don't want any?”

He raises an eyebrow. “I am... why do you keep asking?”

“I helped make it,” she says, lightening up a bit; “it's vanilla and almond flavored.”

Honestly... he keeps forgetting that she actually works in a place where stuff like this is made. All despite having called her 'cafe girl' for the longest time before, and even after their... accident. Then it became just girl, woman, or simply she-slash-her, which did cause the rare confusion when Ikkaku was around or involved in a matter. Anyway, sharing is caring and all that, but that thing there sounds like a sugar bomb. Which may help him, because his blood sugar levels are not that great at the moment, but at the same time he's not big on vanilla, so... once again, no, thanks.

“I like my coffee black, K...at.” Okay, he almost did it again... and why? Good fucking question. Why call her Kat more than once today, when he was perfectly fine with some variation or combination of the previously mentioned things thus far? He's just been over this, too... Must be exhaustion. And hormones, perhaps. Will have to watch his mouth a lot for the few hours left of this shitty day.

She bites down on her lip to try and hold back the chuckle. “Just say it... say the thing you wanted to say,” she smiles, downing the brew.

“Not in a million years.”

***

*insert Twilight parody line at the end*

Me, looking at my imaginary bullet point table: “You know what would be a good idea? Have a chapter that doesn't have Kat's PoV at all... and name it after her... Yeah.”

(Note: as I REEEALLY need to start working on my BA thesis due around the end of April, this project will likely get totally sidelined. Or speed up because of my procrastination skills. We'll see. After all, I have like 5x0.5 chapters lying around (and about 2 that are finished) and just need to add pacing fillers and patch things up.)

21. Once upon a dream

Kat takes a quick look at the underwater window; it's already nighttime. She should pull herself together soon and stand up, no matter how comfortable the edge of the bed is right now. The room's also perfectly cozy in this rare moment, she could nod off if she doesn't watch herself... especially since she's actually lying across the thing. Don't fall asleep again, man. Put that watch down for a sec, if you have to, and three, two, one, sit. I said three... two... theeere you go.

As she scoots to the side, she peeks at Law for a sec, too. Apart from one round for a glass of water, he's been perfectly silent and still in his chair all afternoon. From what she sees, he's barely keeping his head up, literally nodding off himself, if he'd allow that. He also had a couple of suppressed yawns earlier. Sympathizing with him here... though she's not exactly tired, it's more of the empty feeling one gets after a long, busy day. Still, her body feels heavy and her head light since she herself was in a limbo a minute ago; Kat gives her cheeks a good slap. How long must it have been, the last time she peeked out the window and it was still kind of evening? Fifteen minutes? Thirty...? Definitely not an hour, that cannot be.

“Just go if you're already this dull,” Law moans from over his notebook that hasn't had any new information written into it for a while, then he turns outward. He might have been waiting for her to leave so he can just fall like a log...

“You're one to talk...” She yawns. “Y'ere tired enough yesterday, but today you've been lookin'... really bad.” Like, really bad. Now that Kat can take a good look, he's... indeed in a very rough shape. Maybe she shouldn't have mentioned it at all, but she's getting worried, especially now that she's seen his face. Man, it's been a while since she last had bags under the eyes… If she ever pulled an all-nighter, this is probably what it would look like. He looks two minutes from collapsing on the spot...

He sighs, rubbing his temples. “No shit... I wake up frequently in the first place, but today was especially bad. Your body really is not big on these temperatures.” It's either that or the 'new' environment, can't blame anything else. Honestly, he may be a rather restless sleeper in the first place, but this extra disturbance really throws a wrench into his routine. The best rest he's had this week was that almost-hour in the hall this morning... partly because it was a dreamless one.

“I also had some shitty dream that just kept going every time I managed to fall asleep?” he groans, having reminded himself of that, too. It was all kinds of annoying. “That the alleyway was in it is one thing... but running late for college? On a tram of all things...? Fuck me, I never even finished school, save used one of those things.” Huffing, he closes the book on the desk; he can feel at least four joints in his hand pop at that. His back hurts, too... there's no way he'll get anything else done today, provided he did anything noteworthy at all. At this point, he's just pissed at himself. He leans onto one arm to rest his head, that weighs more and more with every passing minute, on.

Kat, meanwhile... is very much alert, and concerned, to say the least. Because she knows that specific dream pretty damn well. Been a few months, and she thought it might be over already... yet Law did just describe that recurring, anxiety-induced semi-nightmare right now. All of this is looking just as she imagined... oh boy.

“Um... Law?” She blinks over to her bag, then back at him, before reaching inside after short consideration.

He sighs, trying his best to keep his eyelids from closing before being anywhere near the bed. “No need to look at me as if I needed a straitjacket, okay...? I need some rest, is all.”

“I know, it's just... I've been having... unusual dreams, too,” she says standing up, fiddling a little with the board facing her; he looks up with tired eyes. She's... unsure whether it's an appropriate time to show this to him... Following some hesitation, she does turn it around.

Law squints a little to see the thin-lined doodles better, also getting up from his chair. As he steps forward, his frown quickly changes from general irritation and vague anger into worry, confusion, and maybe discomfort... he almost looks scared. Kat can't help but avert her eyes and stare at his feet instead while fighting the urge to do anything with her fingers that itch for fiddling with stuff; she's feeling very out of place right now.

He reaches out to hold the drawings pinned to the corkwood; as soon as she feels the smallest tug, the object is released and she peeks back up at him.

Most of the wrinkles have disappeared, and he's taking in the little details, as few as there are, one by one. His fingers trace down the paper with a gentleness that she has never seen from him before, or even imagined him being capable of. He seems to mouth a word or two... it's as if she's handed him an old, lost photo instead of a couple of rough sketches, really. The way he looks at them, too... there is... a desolate feeling about it. Longing.

He blinks.

“... you couldn't fake this if you wanted to...”

That voice is also new. She's heard him talk calmly, but this is way softer than that. Thinking about it, this might be the first time she's heard him whisper, isn't it? However, it also feels wrong. Sad... He's hurt, seemingly on the verge of tears. But... she doesn't want to see this person sad... and especially not make him sad. Oh no... oh no...

Getting to the bare-bones stick doodle of the gates, he closes his eyes. “... since when?”

While it's nearly the usual tone, it also sounds as if it could break any time... All she can do right now is to enter default anxiety mode and just... spill it. “I saw the first one... when I fell asleep down here.”

“How much... did you see?” Good lord, how much could it be...

That question sounds as if she was eavesdropping on purpose or something... Considering that this seems to be very personal and a sensitive issue to Law, it certainly feels like it. “There were... three dreams, I think. I don't remember a lot from the first two, but... today I hung out with that man, in a bright town. Later the buildings turned into white sand... and we played in it.”

A bitter smile appears on his face. Of all things... building something like sand castles with him. In that rubble... on that rubble. “A white city, eh...?” Don't cry... barely awake or not, don't you dare fucking cry, shithead.

“... yes. And, uh...” This information... might not even be relevant, but she might as well mention the other... characters? People? “some children joined, too. Most of them had a uniform. First was a little dark blonde girl, with pigtails...” She doesn't remember anything noteworthy about the others...

While generally avoiding to look at his face right now, it's obvious that this bit was indeed important, and must have hit him pretty hard; he hugs the paper support and lowers his head, resting his chin against the drawing board.

“... that went on for a bit, until a man and woman came, to...” She stops. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Can't just finish the sentence like that, what if they were his parents?! Wait, she thought the man looked like Law. They absolutely were his parents and whatever has happened he's super upset about this already. FUCK. How the hell can she continue now, if a couple of vague descriptions, about ten lines of a building and the mention of a white... a White...

The scorching coals of distress turn to ice in her chest, and she dares a short look back at him, then stares at her hands that kind of feel as cold as if they were her own. Her thoughts take a quick detour to do simple math, then from one old memory scrap to another, followed by some anecdote fragments in a collection she read that was not for her age at the time.

She doesn't like the idea. It's not her place to inquire about this, if true. Think anything about this, if true. Maybe, just maybe, it's not the truth at all. It's so extremely unlikely, after all. It still does feel like she stumbled upon a terrible secret. Forbidden knowledge. Because... she knows why that place was familiar. And it would just make perfect sense, if, by chance...

“I remember... the newspaper from that day,” she says finally after swallowing hard, squeezing out the words one by one, feeling their weight. It's one of those memories that just flash in front of her from time to time; when she's sitting in the kitchen in the golden hour, or having apricot jam on bread, like back then. In this one, she's barely eight... looking at pictures in a paper. The old, crackling denden mushi is receiving the only radio signal available, the news are just about over. They repeated something that's been a topic for a week or so. There's... an image of a town, labeled as an archive photograph...

“It was headlines. I didn't read the article, wouldn't have really understood anyway, but... I remember the photo... of a big building. And the fence in front. That's what it is... that's the place I've been seeing... right?”

He's as still as a statue. There's some noise, something between a hum and a whimper, hard to decide... he nods after some delay. Kat is at a loss as to how she could proceed, if at all... saying more would be awkward; leaving would be even more so… doing anything, even existing, is awkward. In the end, Law's the one to break the silence.

“I was sick… with nowhere to run. Didn't even know who to blame, I just wanted to take revenge on anything... and everything.” After the hastily uttered train of thought gets out, he takes a deep, shaky breath. Fuck it, she already knows. He gave away the missing critical pieces to an incomplete puzzle, like the utter tool he is. Most he can do right now is to tell her whatever seems... safe. Just enough to satisfy her questions, barely enough to let this issue die right here. It's just...

Putting an end to that a few months ago is still so fresh in his mind. It made him rethink a lot of things, and just generally think of that godforsaken day a lot again... old wounds were ripped open, and they are not done healing, not at all. He's been trying to just cover it all up until this alliance business dies down for good, and right now there is only a mess of strong feelings with no coherent thoughts attached. It's hard... finding words for it right now is just too damn hard.

Law reaches out; Kat is too puzzled figure out what to do, or how she should interpret the gesture, so she doesn't stop the unsure, icy fingers from barely tapping her chest.

“He was the one... who saved me,” Law breathes, lowering the drawing board in his other hand.

It takes Kat a second to remember that right under the T-shirt is the center of his big tattoo, pretty much the image of the Heart Pirates' jolly roger. The only 'he' she can think of... and that's kind of like that one smile she saw today, isn't it. And there's the heart motive, buried under either smoke or fire... “... the man in the feather coat...”

He hums; he's not touching her anymore, but his hand hovers over the spot for another moment.

Kat meanwhile regrets not waiting with her dumb question until a more suitable time a lot... and is also getting choked up. It's not even because of an episode after a long time spent in comfortable numbness, or that seeing sad or miserable people makes her restless, especially if she's attached to them... it's rather that, if nothing else in particular stuck with her from that frigid, snowy dream, she remembers the feeling very well. It was a lot like the one she had as a little girl, of her mother being hypnotized and abandoning her. Never saw the end of that recurring nightmare. She always woke up after the person responsible, -the local shopkeeper, for some reason,- just laughed and laughed at her misery... All in all, it felt like shit. This man also must have died, or else Law wouldn't be like... this. Quite frankly, just remembering the name of Flevance and connecting it to the crumbling sand town caused a visceral reaction she cannot put anywhere. This body never really let go of Law, did it...?

As his hand starts to slip away, she reaches for it intuitively; it just seems... the logical thing to do? Except it's not, not really. He doesn't even like things like this... God, she's also been exhausted mentally with all these people around, and even wasted more energy on this silly hug business, zeroing her leftover sense of self-awareness. Oh well... if she's already at it, and thinking about it, there's one semi-logical step left. It's normal to do that in these situations anyway, so...

Kat takes a hesitant step ahead, and pulls him once again into a gentle one-armed hug: just a bit tighter, and a bit less awkward than the previous one. The hand she took a second ago is raised back up to roughly where Law's own heart would be and she holds it so carefully as if it were made of something really brittle, like an actual shard of thin ice. Also can't help but note that her body is exactly a head shorter than his... will have to resist the temptation to lean into the curly hair, even if it's inconveniently tickling her neck right now.

Law really wants to be angry, or anything other than tired and empty, really, but the half-hearted attempt is a complete failure. Instead, the only emotion he can muster is deepest shame; normally, he'd just brood down here alone, maybe cry into his pillow, but... he's not alone right now, and needs this. Really badly. Someone to latch onto, like a gross attention leech... And it feels so damn great. She's also rubbing his back a little, and may or may not have just lowered her chin onto his head. This is nice, so, if only for a little while… okay, this should do it... the three to five seconds of self-indulgent cuddling are over. He takes a deep breath to calm down and try to pull himself together as she mumbles something into his hair that he can barely make out.

“You are such a brave and smart boy...”

His heart swells upon hearing that, and he feels the first tear break free from under strict supervision; she probably didn't even mean to say it out loud, and the rather infantilizing nature of the statement aside... although it's part of the problem, really... her soft-spoken demeanor just makes that voice sound a lot like his father's. A little too much. There comes the first hiccup, soon followed by many more...

Kat drifts back to reality upon hearing the first sob, and finds herself unsure what to do again; she has no idea how to handle a situation like this. Did she ever have a crying person around when she did something past just... standing in a corner and feeling bad herself? At any time? What did... what did her parents do, how did they calm her down? They... what they did was... there's... nothing. They humored her for a minute, maybe. When it was just a scratch, told her that it's no big deal. All she remembers are the times they made her cry over something stupid instead... being straight-out terrified at times, going as far as hiding the shards of a broken vase or mug in the cluttered backyard. Even when she stepped into an old nail, she didn't tell a thing, although she was old enough to know that she ought to get tetanus vaccination afterwards.

She can feel anger boil its way up her throat; god, just... in how many ways did growing up with those people fuck her over...? No... no, no, no. No thinking about that, she has someone else here, and they need some kind of help or support. But she's so useless... augh, maybe she shouldn't be here at all right now...

“Law... do you want me to leave?” At least she can't do any harm with that...

The answer is not exactly direct, but a whimper like that sounds like a 'no' in any situation. If that wouldn't be enough, his hand also curls around a wrinkle of the tee.

Kat sighs, releasing his hand and wrapping her now free arm around him instead; she also takes the board before he drops it, and tosses the thing on the corner of the bed, near where the wobbly book pile is. What else could she do now, though...? She doesn't really have a sure means to calm him down... maybe... maybe she could sing, or rather hum something, stay until he falls asleep. Let's see, it has to be something soft... and preferably not holiday-related. There's not a lot that she knows perfectly by heart, though. Oh god... um, maybe that one, the one her mother sang to her and her brothers after going to bed, until she just stopped doing it one day. Which was quite a shame, really; she loved it a lot. Seems like she can still remember the tune, too... alright.

While she was contemplating, her right hand wandered up to his scalp and is absentmindedly scratching away at his nape ever so softly. She stops for a split second upon noticing, but resumes just as quickly- he hasn't said anything, nor reacted, so it should be okay. In fact, it seems to be doing a pretty good job... Law's less tense, and his breathing less erratic already. Alright, he should be fine in a few more minutes; shushing will be fine for now. As soon as he's down to sniffling, she leads him to the bed to sit.

Since he doesn't seem to be letting go of the t-shirt any time soon, she joins him with one hand still on his back. Maybe five motionless minutes pass before she takes a look at him; he's barely conscious leaning against her, isn't he... whether it's just to avoid stressful dreams or being on autopilot, he's still not willing to let himself fall asleep. What a stubborn oaf.

She sighs a little, and concentrates on a single note before humming the old song, after all. The last thing she kind of remembers before drifting off is thinking about how to lay him down without waking him up.

***

Today's #mood be like mspaintadventures.com/?s=6&p=005143

I'll try to churn out one more before I go on a forced hiatus, just so it stops on a less depressing note... that aside, story time!

So... I have zero connection to America. Live in the area where West and East Europe meet, in the middle of nowhere basically. And yet, I remember coming home when I was 10, and the TV showing some 3-hour news special on 9/11. The single suspended mental image of the television showing one of the planes before impact as I throw my backpack down before I go eat just stuck with me. There are many other little things, like the marzipan lion from my brother's first birthday cake hanging out in the kitchen window for months (I was barely 2 then, like? holy shit); seeing the few drops of blood on the concrete after a kid named Márk hit someone in the face in kindergarten as they cry in the background; the moment I saw a thick snake slither at my feet as I wanted to go down to the cellar outdoors around 4th grade (I've felt uneasy down there ever since, was a favorite before)... They are 3D photographs of minuscule length if any... as a visual type, I might have more of these than the average, but it's amazing that billions of people, if not everyone, has these lying around in their brains. Humans are wild, man.

Anyway, I remembered that, and decided to put something similar in here. Same for the song, which is the main motif of “Esti Dal” aka Evening Song. (quote-unquote best version I could find rn was this flash mob /watch?v=b055cHvLgtk) Kat's a semi-self-insert, after all.

ps.: The universe is a cold, uncaring place, and remembering is the most powerful FUCK YOU at your disposal, and erasing memories of someone or something is the most cruel punishment you can impose- all I'm saying is, that the least you can do is share these memories in some way or form. Go write something, you tool. And me, too. Yes you, I know you'll be reading this in a few weeks again to check where you left off when you last were unmotivated to continue. And yes, you did indeed write the commentary for... whatever chapter this is before finishing 19, bitch. I see you. Shia LaBeouf that shit. JUST. DO IT.