It's a Long Way From Orre

Through his own personal observations, he concluded that individuals who had spirits tethered to them or had brushes with death tend to have a sort of presence stuck to them. It was the same with grudges and curses, but they don’t permeate as strongly as the aforementioned categories. Those were much harder to deal with, and there really is no way to fully erase certain presences. All he could offer was some charms to mute it.

So, when he met one Wes Wagner, he caught his attention immediately.

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Although it was roundabout, Morty’s words had confirmed Wes’s worst fears. Something really was still in that house. Someone else really was still in that house. His father was. All this time. All these years, he’d never left.

He felt something pit into his stomach, drawing all the moisture from his throat. It had been fourteen years since he’d lost him. Fourteen years. 

With his eyes scanning seemingly nothing, lost in thought, he figured the best place to move forward was to just... say what was on his mind. “I have to admit, things did feel... different. But... I guess it’s like, when you’re so used to the way a place smells, you don’t smell it anymore? Might be the same way. Ever since I was a little kid, I felt like there were ghosts in this house — in a purely metaphorical sense. My mom would always be out, and my dad would work till... two-three in the morning. That late. I spent so many days just by myself, only catching glances of my parents at a time. So I guess, coming back, it felt the same way. Alone, like I was used to, but... like something’s supposed to live here. I thought it was just denial.”

But the second presumption Morty stated gave Wes room for pause. Maybe.. Maybe Leo did just leave him alone. Maybe that’s all he’d ever wanted. To let Wes be at peace, despite the fact that he couldn’t leave. He decided to push that thought aside for the moment. Like Morty said, they’d never know more until they got in there.

With a hesitant hand turning his familiar doorknob, he entered, leading immediately into the stairs, and to the right, the living room. Despite Morty’s presence, the place felt no different. It felt no more... unsettling, as if whatever presence was there wasn’t upset by him being there.

Hearing Wes speak to him in that tender, familiar tone nearly sprung fresh tears in his eyes. He looked weak, probably still at risk for a relapse but he’s still alive. Harley closes his eyes to compose himself for a moment, clenching his hands just out of sight before visibly relaxing. “It’s fine. I doubt this was a deliberate effort on your end to give me gray hair before I hit my forties,” he quips back with a small smile.

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He quietly watched Harley’s concern with as much foggy-eyed attention as he could muster, following the teacher as he buzzed around, getting food prepared, mumbling to himself and Wes ( though, Wes could mostly feel as though it was Harley speaking to himself more than anyone ) the instructions just to keep Wes alive and kicking.

It would’ve been enough to bring a tear to his eye, had he not been so tired and drained that he physically seemed like he couldn’t do so.

He nodded, did what he was told, and acquiesced every one of Harley’s requests. In his weary state, it was practically all he could do before he had to lay down once more to recharge and recover from his injuries.

But at the very least... it seemed like he was going to be alright.

It was getting late into the night at the ONBS building. The office party had long since wound down and most everyone had left for home, but Michael was still wide awake and buzzing with energy from all the sweets and junk food he had eaten. He hadn’t even meant to be there for it, really; he had just stopped by that evening to catch up with them as he usually did, when they had invited him and his Pokemon to join in on the fun. Seeing the others more tired than he was, Michael offered to stay behind and clean up while they closed shop as usual, and so was the last person there when all the lights were turned off.

“Y’know, we should visit more often, if this is a regular thing they do,” Michael said to his partner Veeno through a mouthful of jelly donut once they were done.

The Jolteon wuffed in eager agreement, carefully placing the last ball of scrap paper into the trash bin before trotting off to the exit.

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Well this was certainly a turn of events. ‘I’ve done this plenty of times before!’ is not something you often hear when it comes to the subject of dealing with Shadow Pokemon. For a moment, Wes was apt to simply believe the young man was simply thinking this was just another Pokemon battle, but as the boy kept talking, he said one word that threw all of that right out the window.

Snag.

desert spirits

Joshua Tree National Park, California

winter event thread | @echoesoforre

For as packed as the Stunfisk Café in Icirrus City was, the chatter of conversations was comfortably muted.

Perhaps it had something to do with the sound-dampening snow piling up outside, the enveloping warmth of the central fireplace tucked amidst the couches and tables, both, or neither; the atmosphere was still pleasant, cozy. The fragrance of freshly ground coffee and melting chocolate permeated the air, mingling with the cinnamon-scented decor and firewood. Throughout the café, people brushed shoulders and socialized and dined, fully enjoying the luxury of being indoors.

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For a split-second, when the barista asked what name they should write on it, Wes considered using his old disguise name, something like Chris or even Lena. But he was tired, then, tired of having to hide, and he withheld, looking to them and smiling with a simple ‘Wes’ slipping out of his lips with a short nod and hands clasped together at his navel.

He could already feel the eyes watching him as he spoke, the more-uncommon name turning a few looks his way. Well, if he wasn’t movie director Wes Anderson, it had to be that other Wes — the one that saved Orre — and one glance towards him would confirm the latter.

At times like this, he’d really just rather be alone.

Punk biker mlm aesthetic for @rustybutterknife. I hope that this is ok