you can't win this fight | Giovanni & Thorton
Giovanni wanted to say his life was easy, that he wasnāt really worried about anything. Ever. But that wasnāt true, he worried about things just like any human. He wasnāt a machine, contrary to popular belief. He was a complicated man and he was an angry man. His days had been bad the last week. Most would think of this as some sort of anniversy, of when he became the big cheese in the Rocket world, but that wasnāt how he thought about it. It most certainly was an anniversary but it wasnāt a good one. It was a bad one, bad beyond anything heād known to this point. It was the week of the death of the one thing that had made him human, and for that he hated this world. He hated everything about this world, this group, this everything.
Heād gone from his usual hiding hole into Viridian City, to one of the quieter corners. The building was another bar now, go figure. It had been one to start, and now it was again. He swallowed and pushed the door. He was one of the only ones in there and he found a place in the corner. This corner made him smile, it was always he and Ledaās spot. She would be able to lean over the bar and bat her long eyelashes at him like she always did when she wanted his attention, and if he wasnāt giving enough of it she knew he could see her swanning over to any other man in the bar who was always more than happy to give her attention. He closed his eyes at the thought, pinching the bridge of his nose. He didnāt need this right now, but here he was.
He looked up as he was approached, and he ordered scotch. He wasnāt making any bones about having to get drunk to mentally make these ghosts go away. He could hear some people talking about what day it was, and then the bar keep mentioned the family that was murdered here, and as though it were some sort of fanciful ghost tale, the bar hushed. Giovanni shouldnāt have been here. But here he was, listening.
HE looked up as the man got a detail wrong, he said only the girl had made it out. He slammed his finished tumbler down on the bar, and corrected. āShe was the first to die.ā He said simply, the man looked him in the face. āHow the hell you know anything about it?ā He narrowed his eyes. āShe died because of me. Her name wasā¦Leda and I have the only pokemon the murderer left alive. More scotch, asshole.ā He said nothing else, folding himself into the wall as another tumbler was placed in front of him. He needed to go, and do something productive but here he was, drowning his sorrows in alcohol like a champ.
Real professional, he chided himself.
Time had it's way of creeping up on Thorton. He was always beside himself with business and challengers alike and wouldn't dare begin to relax or else he might miss something. Today, however, he was so preoccupied that he did miss something. His train. Thorton swore when the attendant had told him it would be another six hour wait for the next train into Kanto, then flung himself into a seat, arms crossed, cheeks red. Electivire was in his company today and it placed it's large hand on his shoulder in an attempt to subdue the tantrum that was well on it's way to flaring up. He spent his time taking naps and working on miniscule projects in the station, finding good places to eat, and reading. He then repeated the cycle once he was finally on board. It had been a long day, and Thorton considered it wasted. By the time he had made it to Kanto, there wasĀ nothing left for him to do but to find a hotel, and hopefully be more productive the next day. With a yawn, he brought his analyzer out to check the time. 1:43 a.m. He jammed it back into it's holster with a huff and began the trek into Viridian City. At this time of night, Thorton wasn't going to get much help from anybody; he figured there wasn't a soul accounted for besides himself, but he found that he was wrong when he saw a lone building lit against the blackness of the rest of the city. Upon further investigation, he could see that it was a bar. This made him contort his expression into one of disgust, and he hesitated to go inside.
Thorton couldn't stand drunks. Hell, people could easily get under his skin while still sober in most cases, but he concluded that his options were to request aid from one of the patrons, or wander by his lonesome into the early morning, furthering his exhaustion. He sighed and pushed his way inside. As soon as he entered, he became the center of attention. He was given grief by all of them... except for one, who seemed to be preoccupied with other matters. They hollered at him things like "Aren't you a little young to drink?", "This place ain't for kids," or "What do you want, small fry?" Still only as far inside as the doorway, Thorton rolled his eyes and groaned, "Aw, can it. I only need directions."
