coalesce

@counterfires

     Quiet as ever, Red’s room seemingly became left behind by the times. Relatively tidy with the illusion of being untouched for quite a while, though the newest additions were a pile of letters atop the young man’s desk. All unsent and most unopened, they were supposed to be unread by the intended recipients as he deemed it embarrassing to send after re-reading a letter addressed to a dear friend.

Red decided to deal with them later, opting for a nice hot bath for the time being. To clear his mind of the letter’s contents … and to shake off the accompanying embarrassment from them.

❛ To Fire— ❜ Two simple words adorning the top of the paper.

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Red’s mom has always been welcoming. Though, to put it factually, every family in Pallet was welcoming.  It was a small town after all – closely knit like a yarn sweater – each stitch and loop a family and a friend strung together by a spirit of camaraderie. Perhaps that was why each Champion that came out of the three boys felt like a pride that swelled – increasingly so with each one surmounting the next.  Fire! Come in! Sit. I haven’t seen you in so long— she had said, giving him a quick hug before disappearing into the kitchen. Daisy brought me some tea back from Kalos. I’ll make some. make yourself at home!

starter for @counterfires

It had been particularly gloomy in Cerulean, the early morning skies donned a darker grey color. Misty preferred sunny weather, personally, but found the conditions perfect for training. After surfing to the Cerulean Cave, she let her team spend a little extra time in the water. The cave itself wasn’t as challenging to Misty or her team, but was excellent practice. Wild Pokemon seemed to get braver the deeper you went, yet there seemed to be something lacking.

He takes a right turn behind some rocks, stepping into an obscured area that he remembered hiding in to take a breather when he was still a travelling trainer. It was as comforting as it was familiar, yet, something felt strangely off about the location’s energy. Admittedly it has been a long time since he’s visited, and Fire honestly did not know if Kanto had decided to preserve this place or open it up or whether he was trespassing or what not, but he just knew from the lack of wild pokémon jumping at him that something had changed in the last few years. With a hand behind his neck, Fire pulls a grimace but considers it a largely inconsequential loss (albeit disappointing that his memories of the place will never be re-experienced).

She stares at the message on the screen. The sender anonymous:

Someone important to you is waiting for you at Cafe Soleil

A bite of her lip and furrowed brows, she is torn between an uncertainty and a curiosity.

     Who?         Who?            Who?

Who had sent the message?      Who was waiting for her?

Was this some sort of prank?      Was it some sort of trap?

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There is no crowd around him, but her voice was barely a whisper. When she calls him Aidan, Fire doesn’t hear her, but instead, was duly fixated on the idea of her in his mind. He couldn’t decide if he was excited, or fearful when the anonymous person contact got through, and he wanted to know if they were legit – but it has also been years since that Looking-For was posted, and the boy was more than a little wary of malevolent hearts. (Fire was, of course, most afraid of getting his own heart broken again.) A quick glance at his watch tells him he had been waiting too long. Maybe it was a sign to leave. Maybe this was the final sign from the world to stop holding on to that tiny, splintering piece of hope (also known as Fire’s heart) and just forget about her already. People who did not want to be found will never be found and Fire reckons that he should really know this lesson full well by now. He exhales, cold breath a cloud before his face, eyes looking for anyone that could fit what the stranger could possibly be. Rubbing his hands together, he tells himself that if the next person that walks out of the bakery opposite Soleil had a baguette, the tip-off was legit and he’d wait, and if not—

Kalos seemed a bit out of the way for Archer’s tastes, but with the thin numbers Rocket now found themselves with, he was willing to do anything — especially if it involved one of those children. If they had been looking for the likes of someone like Leaf, then it certainly must have been one of those boys — the prodigal boy who conquered Giovanni, or the likes of the other who’d been a thorn in his side on the journey ahead.

Frankly, Archer had never even heard of one called Fire.

Archer himself found his way to Kalos as a means of business; after all, Rocket’s name was far too familiar in the regions of Kanto and Johto, so expanding themselves underground and to different regions seemed not only best for their safety, but for business as well. After all, the two regions combined only seemed to be home to just over 250 Pokemon; the world as a whole had come to discover more than 800.

So he found himself in Kalos, his usual disguise keeping him quite hidden from his usual outfit with its emblazoned Rocket logo. Instead, he dressed in chic attire fit for the region.

With a quick text to the number left there, Archer retreated to Café Soleil, hoping to be able to squeeze some useful information from this individual, whoever they may be. And at least, if worse came to worse, it’d be a quick and easy way to obtain some useful Pokemon from them.

At Café Soleil, Fire would meet an individual in a wide-brimmed hat, beige shorts, a light-colored blouse. Surely, a much more disguised and feminine, even equipped with large sunglasses to hide up the last parallel to Archer. It astounded him how his disguise as Athena worked so well. The boy approached him without noticing a thing.

He looked up to him as he sat down, trying on his best valley girl voice, high and nasally. “Well hey, I saw your ad on the flyers. I think I saw that girl you were talking about.” He gave a quick snort and readjusted his sunglasses. “So how do ya know this girl, anyhoo?”

When Fire approaches, his steps are controlled; hesitant. It wouldn’t be too late to run out for the door that was just behind the person he was supposed to meet – to just – hightail it out of there. There were some things that were admittedly better left unknown, and perhaps where Leaf was was one of those things. Still, he clenches his fists so hard that his fingernails make dents in the flesh of his palms before he extends it to the individual – smiles, and curt thank-you-for-coming and all – preliminary to the two getting seated.  In his chair, Fire fidgets with his hands under the table, feeling his stomach knot and unknot itself at being so close to gaining another piece of this extended puzzle game he never had the intention of playing. He glances at the sunglasses-touting individual quickly before turning his attention away again, his legs shaking in attempt of mock nonchalance. To their question he considers the brutish answer of I don’t know her, just thought she was a pretty gal and wanted her number — but the fake accent was so cringeworthy that it snaps him back into reality, ending up with an unintended wince at the stranger instead. They, were either a tourist, or a painfully bad act, but beggars couldn’t be choosers, anyway.

“Look, I don’t want anything. I’m not in distress. My happiness is not at 38 percent.”

“You’re right,” Barrybot observed pointedly with a slight frown, half-walking half-gliding behind Fire as he tried to flee the scene. “Your happiness index is rapidly dropping, now down to 29%. Unless there is something completely erroneous within my data, you need some serious help. Dude.”

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His ire increases with each step and “analysis”, and the palm of his flesh was starting to hurt from where his fingernails dug in as a fist. He tries to think of happy places, of fluffy mareep and of a place where this thing wasn’t following him, but nada— this guy was as insistent as he was stubborn, but, Arceus, really?    Gritting his teeth, Fire turns to face the bot, eyes narrowed as the word dude hits him like a brick in his face. Great, now it’s learning hoe to converse— he grumbles, crossing his arms as his path is cut off.

“And who… are you?”

Barry literally lit up at the prospect of being noticed, the LEDs in his hazel eyes flickering brightly before dimming down again. His usually lightning-fast analysis was slowed by the lack of a reliable internet connection, but the android could at least tell that Your Name Here was not in the greatest of moods. Narrowed eyes, pronounced frown…but also curious, a spark of nostalgia blinking in the human’s quizzical gaze. Barry was able to process all visible characteristics of his new master, while trying to verify an answer to Fire’s testy query. Even on a limited basis, the ‘blond bot’ truly was a marvel, a product of extraordinary technological progress.

Yeah, he was freakin’ rad.

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Fire narrowed his eyes at the bot, still walking circles as he tried to figure out the other as he (?) it spoke. The “Your Name Here” was equal parts cool, equal parts unnerving – and the brunet boy squints hard for any traces of wiring.  He stops abruptly, his head turned sharply as the robot rattled out its model number, the word “programmed” throwing an invisible wench into Fire’s mind. “Wait, wait. Hold up—” flinching away from the android’s attempt at what he could only guess to be a hug, Fire pulls his hands up to his chest, separating them, one, — make that two — steps backed away. Scowling, Fire swats at the Barrybot’s analysis of his 38% happiness and grimaces, shaking his head ruefully indicating that he did not want any of the information or data the other could / can offer.

“Look, I don’t want anything. I’m not in distress. My happiness is not at 38 percent.” Hands still propped hesitantly up before himself, Fire sidesteps the robot and gives a curt smile.  “My name is uh, Ig, my friends call me Fire.” Mentally, he smacks himself for introducing himself to a robot, and lets out a nervous laugh before breaking out into the open again.

Initializing…Initializing…estimated patch download time remaining: 20 seconds. estimated patch download time remaining: 2 days and 14 minutes…and 20 seconds. 

Error: No Internet connection detected. Patch ‘gentleman_aesthetic.exe’ has been terminated.

Ignoring Windows update. Backdating patch. Initializing anyways…here we go…

“Where the Arceus am I? Whoa!”

Barry gaped at the new world taking shape around him, his first new memories flooding his empty database. He eagerly looked down at his body–freakishly realistic with the finest futuristic technology–and tried moving his limbs for the first time. He noticed a long sleeve of green fabric wrapped around his neck and the clothes covering his robotic exoskeleton and control panel. He was alive again–but how did he get here?

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He just wanted to go home. 

Being lost used to be such a familiar feeling, so much that he would even say that wandering unknown cities was the gist of his formative journey years. Fire used to love it – relish – the existence of no pressure of having to be anywhere, no constant tick-tock of a clock signifying some sort of impending deadline. Yet, this experience left but a sour distaste in his mouth, his tongue clicking in annoyance as he flipped the map over and under again. (Fire was not good with maps. His journey took longer than the other Pallet Town kids’ did, admittedly because of his inability to read one.) Frankly, he didn’t quite care for Sinnoh or the frigid sharpness that hung in the air – he was grumpy, jet-lagged; tired.