lessons in life

Unlike Harley, Marshal has very little interest in paying attention to the other man. His brain remains in a fog, only occasionally surfacing to remind himself that someone was there, and he should be trying to be polite. But like everything else, it passes back into the haze, leaving only a lingering sense of guilt behind.

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Harley continues to sip his own tea, occasionally casting discreet glances at Marshal. At the very least, the drink seems to revitalize something, for the first time since they met, the other looks less like a dried up Magikarp and more like... a slightly hydrated Magikarp. He hides a grin when Marshal nibbles on a muffin, quietly pleased.

     Spark was hanging out in Unova for research—setting up a small Instinct base in the region, getting hands-on experience with the pokemon in their natural habitats… even just getting to explore the region where he was born and where his sister resides. He was loving his time there so far, and Castelia City was no exception. The bustling seaside town reminded him of Goldenrod back in Johto… though Castelia was certainly far bigger  ( it seemed that was the case for everything in Unova, though ).

     He was strolling through the park with Spark II when the Ampharos stopped, turning around and walking towards a bench.

     “ Hey, Junior. What’d you find——. ”  And it was a pokemon, hiding. He knelt down beside the bench, head tilted to the side.  “ Hey… what are you doing down here, little buddy? ”  Spark questioned, reaching a hand under to pet her, before turning his head to his Ampharos.  “ Nice catch, Junior. ”

     Junior, too, bent down to look, and copied after Spark, sticking his hand under the bench, too.  ‘ Hi! I’m Spark. He’s also Spark. We’re both Spark. Are you okay? ’

Blossom remains quietly shaking, trying not to cry. She opens her eyes and lifts her head slightly at the voice that greets her. It’s a stranger, someone that’s not Dad. He tries to pet her, and unfortunately, with the tight space, she’s not able to duck away from it. She tenses at his touch, keeping herself still. If she’s lucky, the man would leave her alone.

Rui had to snort.  

“Me? A princess?  Only if I could be a warrior princess, you know?  Like the ones who wear super kick ass armor and defend their kingdoms against viking.  That would be so cool,”  Rui smirked. Sal slid her drink across the bar before actually handing Harley his.  The bar had returned back to normal now, the small swarm of people had dispersed and left the duo to themselves.  She smiled affectionately at the crowd, turning back to Harley.  

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Of course. She’d never fit the dainty princess theme that saturates the media like it’s going out of style. He personally thinks they need to show more strong princesses, so if Rui ever did star in a show where she’s a warrior princess that defends the kingdom from vikings, he’ll be watching it. Harley merely grins at her, then at Sal when he slides him his whiskey. He tips his head in thanks, gives the drink a little swirl before he takes a sip.

Mmm... that just slap his tongue across his face. Nice.

Charon nearly jumped out of her shoes when she heard Harley sneakin’ up behind her as chalk also dropped to the ground. She definitely wasn’t about to vandalize school property just now.

“H-hello!” she whipped her head around to greet the stranger behind her before meeting an incredibly familiar face. Something about that giant hair, lax eyes and smirk seemed eerily reminiscent. It was honestly giving her deja vu, especially since apparently he knew her too. It took her a couple of seconds of looking back between him and the name label on the box while digging in the crevices of her old grandma brain before she finally figured out what two plus two was. “Harley?! Harley Jackson? Harley!!????” Charon kept saying his name like it was going out of fashion, but seeing an old friend was almost as rare as finding a shiny, and he was a welcome in her life any day. “I can’t believe it! Out of all places, I didn’t think I’d find you in a school.”  Granted, she probably should’ve figured it out by the name on the box label and the fact she partially remembered a Harley that wanted to become a teacher, but that didn’t matter right now; The most important thing was that she had his plant and that she wasn’t going to get fired. “Honestly, I thought I  would’ve ended up living in the mountains like that one Red guy.” she shrugged, “Buuuuut… Delivering plants and whatever is a little better, I guess. Especially since it let me see your mopey face again.” Charon snickered, remembering all the times he would come to her with college or friend problems.  “Before I forget, could you sign this?” she handed him the clipboard, barely able to holding her laughter, “So honored to do business with you, Mr. Jackson.” 

She stares at him with not a lick of recognition in them. Was he that forgettable? He’s about to make a quip about it, before her eyes widened comically. Harley’s grin stretches as he idly checks his nails. “Yeah. I was about to be very sad if you hadn’t remember me. Ooh, my poor heart wouldn’t have take it,” he replies in a mock hurt tone. It might have been somewhat believable, but the cheeky light in his eyes dismisses any sort of credibility. 

Send one for your muse to…

★ - drag my muse by the arm ⁂ - grab my muse by the front of their shirt, possibly shoving them back ✱ - take my muse by the hips to carefully move them out of their way ➜ - smack my muse upside the head ⌧ - grip my muse by the back of the neck © - put a hand on my muse’s back to steer them somewhere ✂ - point sternly at a chair and tell my muse to sit down ✉ - push my muse back down when they try to get out of bed (perhaps involving illness, injury, or sleep deprivation) ☛ - press a finger to my muse’s lips to shut them up ♚ - put a hand on my muse’s knee while sitting next to them, to discourage them from standing up ♧ - slap my muse’s hand away from something they shouldn’t touch ♦ - grab my muse’s hair and yank ♤ - slam a door shut before my muse can leave the room ♞ - physically pick my muse up and carry them ♭ - grip my muse’s jaw to make them look yours in the eye ♨ - rub my muse down with a sponge/wet cloth  ☀ - pin my muse with their arms behind their back ☠ - slam my muse into a wall ☾ - wrestle/pin my muse to the ground

            He hovers over the rim of the can for just a second longer, snot and saliva dripping down into the trashbag. His eyes are burning. His lungs constrict and ache and itch. If not for the presence of the officers just beyond the door, Riley might spend another minute hacking up whatever else still sits in his stomach.

            Harley’s words just barely reach him. What did you see?

            “Horrible,” he rasps. “Can’t –“ And then his voice is a low whine. “Harley, you…”

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Harley admits he feels a little unnerved at the panicked, almost haunted look in Riley’s eyes when he turns back to him. He looks pale and shaky, though he’s not sure if it’s from his episode or from... whatever he saw. It slowly dawns on him that he’s unsure if he wants to know the answer. Riley’s single reply makes him tense and he nurses his bottom. 

Horrible? What’s... so horrible in his heart?

Curtis listened along very respectfully, nodding as Harley spoke, and as he did, it sort of answered Curtis’s question that he had to begin with. So the man was able to pick out Powder’s coloration because he’s an expert on Pokemon care; it wouldn’t be too far of a stretch to assume the man would know about different Pokemon variations as well, such as coloring.

Curtis looked to his soup, which was now gone faster than he was full, but he immediately decided mentally that he wouldn’t ask for more. After all, he must have been bothering the man enough just by being there.

Still, as Harley spoke, Curtis’s mind continued to gravitate towards his initial observation of Powder, and that coloring. With a bite of his lip, and against his better judgment, he decided to ask about it anyway. “So… you knew Powder was shiny because of your specialty, right? In your teaching. And you’d know all about… um… the other stuff involving what happens with… shinies… cuz of that too?” He didn’t mean for it to come across like he was asking; frankly, he didn’t want to be proven wrong. He just wanted to nicely assume the man was nothing more than a plain school teacher. Nothing more.

Nothing more.

“Does that mean shiny Pokemon have different dietary habits too? Or is it all the same as their species?”

Harley finishes off the rest of his gyoza, chasing it with a few more sips of tea. He nibbles on the stray bits of noodles in his bowl before he orders for an extra order of them to finish off the leftover broth. As he waits for it, he turns back to Curtis, listening to his question. “Yeah. While I might not have encountered a lot of shinies, one of the things I had to cram in my head was the image of all the Pokemon that was discovered. It’s slight, but I can spot the difference in color.”

Send one to…

😴  - Curl up next to my sleeping muse

🤐 - Come to my muse with a secret

🧥 - Wrap a coat around my muse

💉 - Help my muse take a shot

✂️ - Cut my muse’s hair

🎈 - Bring my muse something to cheer them up

🤗 - Sneak up behind my muse and hug them

🎸 - Teach my muse how to play the guitar

🍙 - Bring my muse something to eat

🥤 - Bring my muse a drink

🍻 - Bring my muse an alcoholic drink

🌺 - Put a flower in my muse’s hair

🛁 - Take a bath with my muse

🚿 - Take a shower with my muse

🎮 - Show my muse video game cheats

⚽️ - Teach my muse a sport

🌱 - Plant seedlings with my muse

🤛🏼 - Show my muse how to throw a proper punch

📕 - Read to my muse

Alder greets the dawn of this new day with extra enthusiasm, he’s going to lunch with his beloved son Harley! It’s been nearly a month since their last get-together and he misses him terribly. Even though they talk regularly via cell phone it’s not the same. Alder always prefers to talk with people in-person, a phone can’t replace that level of personal connection. And it’s not because he’s inept at using his phone, he’s actually pretty good at it. He even knows how to use emojis.

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Harley checks his clock. Still a bit early before their promised meeting. He rocks back and forth on his heel, eyes making sweeps of his surroundings. Maybe he could spot dad’s iconic red hair. The man himself might be a little short, but that plume more than made up for it. He waits for another ten minutes before he notices that it’s about time for him to pick up his Pokemon. It is a bit chilly, so he takes refuge indoors, heading straight to the counter.