#the belt ingo normally keeps his team on got destroyed

[blaiddraws]

Whumptober day 17: Alt prompt 3, Dazed and Confused

yesterday was talking to @ghostypetrainer , who mentioned a sort of AU where, when Ingo gets eeby deebied to hisui, chandelure ends up coming with. I was immediately enthralled by the idea

saw the prompt dazed and confused and took the opportunity in front of me to write this ^w^

Flashes of cold, biting winds. It was the first and only thing he could remember. Deep snow, eerie howls. A light in the distance.

Numb fingers, numb toes, and a bone-deep chill that seemed to persist even as he found himself in an unfamiliar station, bundled in blankets near a small hearth, which contained a warm fire. 

The structure he had awoken to was small, with canvas walls between wood slatting. He'd almost consider it cozy, if it weren't for the chill. 

Trying to think felt like… like… there must have been a phrase there, but he could not recall it. But it was difficult, and slow. A busy static in the periphery of his senses, a strange fog muddying his thoughts.

He shuffled a little closer to the fire, only to suddenly sit up in surprise as he realized another person was there. 

"Oh, you're awake. That's good. People were worried you wouldn't make it," they said, leaning forward so that he could see their face in the low light of the fire, "It wouldn't be good to rescue a stranger from the elements, only for him to perish within our homes just because the space was too vast."

The phrasing was odd to him, but then again, he had nothing to compare it to. So he remained silent. What would he even say? He didn't know anything. 

This didn't seem to phase the other person, as they tossed another log into the fire before busying themself with something on a shelf out of his view. 

"Say, stranger, now that you're awake, do you feel well enough to speak? You were pretty… not there enough when we found you," they mused. 

Could he speak? He frowned for a moment, trying to remember how that even worked, before clearing his throat slightly. 

"Y- yes. I can speak. Thank you for saving me." From what, he had no clue, but what they've said lined up with the only memories he had. And he would be a terrible guest if he didn't thank his rescuers. 

Rescuers. They had said "we". Which implied there were other people, right? The idea surprised him slightly, though immediately afterwards it seemed like something obvious. Why wouldn't there be other people? This small tent wasn't the only thing in the world. Even if he could not remember, he was certain of this.

"That's good," the other person replied. They turned around, taking a small pot of some kind and hooking it above the water, before gently placing a small bundle of herbs nearby.

"So, stranger, what were you even doing all the way out in the Icelands all alone at night? With clothes like that, to boot." They gestured vaguely towards his entirety, and he looked down at his body.

He was wearing a dark coat, a white [dress shirt] and blue [tie]. (For some reason, his head felt bare.)

Unfortunately, he knew as much about the other person's question as they themself did. 

"I am afraid I am not quite certain," he admitted. Glancing around the room rewarded him with the sight of a black hat next to him, which he swiftly put on. It felt nice. Correct.

They didn't seem too surprised at his admission, fortunately, only shrugging slightly.

"Ah, well, worth a shot. You were pretty dazed when we found you." they said, before tilting their head as something occurred to them, "Say, stranger, what's your name?"

His name? He furrowed his brow. Yes, his name. That's… something everyone has. It never even occurred to him at all, before they asked. But his mind remained frustratingly blank. The persistent chill in his bones didn't help, as distracting as it was.

"I… I am afraid I… I am quite uncertain," he said slowly, shaking his head, "I could not tell you my name."

The person froze, before giving him a strange look.

"Okay. That's. okay. Do you know where you came from?"

Frankly, he wasn't sure if he even existed before they apparently found him. He shook his head again and told them as such.

"That's… not good," they said after a moment, "I'll be right back, okay?"

And with that, they left through a door set within the wooden frame of the tent. The chilly air from outside washed over him, causing him to shiver.

The abrupt departure seemed a little odd to him. But so did everything else, so maybe that was just how it worked here. Wherever here was. 

He stared at the fire for a few moments, but found himself growing restless. It felt wrong to inspect what was clearly someone's private domicile, so he turned to the clothes on his body to try and learn something about himself.

His dark coat, long with silver and brown accents. A blue armband on one arm, something that made him distantly feel proud and straighten his posture. It meant something, though he wasn't sure what exactly that was.

His hat, too, held that distant warmth and meaning to it, particularly the metal badge affixed to the front. He ran his thumb over it for a moment, trying to parse the emotions behind it and digging into his mind to find the meaning, but stopped suddenly as a spike of pain went through his head.

Ouch. No more of that. He placed the hat back on his head. He'd think about it later.

He scooted himself further up, blankets pooling at his waist, and pulled aside his coat. Had he been wearing… two belts? One belt was affixed to his pants, but there seemed to have been another atop that. Only burnt and torn scraps left loosely attached to a clip. How odd. 

The pockets of his coat only contained some loose metal coins, lint, and a brightly colored treat contained within a crinkly and transparent material. He was tempted to unwrap and eat it, but elected to save it for later. Looked like he only had the one, after all. (Why was he so sure it was something he could eat?)

He had the urge to pat the front and sides of his coat, and was pleasantly surprised when he felt a small lump within a hidden pocket. Without hesitation, he removed it to inspect.

It was a small ball, split red and white. Small enough to hold between two fingers, but when he absentmindedly tapped a button it suddenly grew almost fist-sized. His eyebrows rose slightly, but he didn't feel particularly surprised.

Something about this ball was incredibly familiar to him. The worn paint and nicks and scratches spoke of a long history.

Without further fanfare or hesitation, he clicked a button and the ball sprung open. He dropped it at his side, surprised by the sudden light, but was more preoccupied with the creature that had emerged.

Metal and glass and an ethereal flame, the pokemon hovered in the air in front of him. It floated almost as if it were merely hung on a hook, but was unmistakably suspended only by its own power. 

The sight of it filled him with adoration and warmth, but the familiarity clawed at his mind, a stabbing pain. He tried his hardest to ignore it. This pokemon felt far too important.

It looked confused, stressed, as it glanced around the area with glowing yellow eyes -- but when its gaze settled on him, it metaphorically and literally lit up as it let out a trill of what he could only interpret as delight.

Without needing to think about his actions, he lifted his trembling arms into the air, beckoning the creature closer. It gladly obliged, slowly approaching until it gently bumped against his forehead. 

He placed his hands on either side of its globe, almost as if he were cradling it.

"I know you," he muttered. The pokemon let out an inquisitive noise, and he shook his head.

"I am afraid to admit that, were they even there in the first place, my memories have severely derailed from the tracks of my mind, dear friend."

The pokemon made an alarmed crackle, pulling back so it could look him in the eyes. It seemed distressed.

He stroked its glass, trying to reassure it.

"Rest assured, it seems my heart still remembers you. There is an undeniable familiarity and warmth I feel for you."

Much to his dismay, this only seemed to distress the pokemon even further. He patted it again.

"Oh, candle, what is causing you so much distress?" he asked. He didn't even realize the nickname until the pokemon suddenly froze.

There was a pause, the only movement between them the flicker of its low flames, before it sank to nuzzle up close to his chest.

He wrapped his arms around it, and some of the raw edges of his broken mind began to smooth. The oppressive fog in his mind began to shrink away in the light of the pokemon's flames.

That bone-deep chill he had felt before began to melt away as well, at the touch of this pokemon. Its flames weren't particularly hot, barely above what he'd consider cool, even, and yet they worked far better at making him feel truly warm than the actual crackling fire within the hearth next to him.