SOD OFF.

𝗛𝗘𝗬, 𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗘! 𝗛𝗘𝗬, 𝗛𝗘𝗬!    𝗛𝗘𝗬, 𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗘, 𝗛𝗘𝗬!       𝗛𝗘𝗬, 𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗘! 𝗛𝗘𝗬 𝗛𝗘𝗬!          𝙍𝙊𝘾𝙆 '𝙀𝙈, 𝙎𝙊𝘾𝙆 '𝙀𝙈, 𝙏𝙃𝘼𝙏'𝙎 𝙊𝙐𝙍 𝙒𝘼𝙔!

𝗛𝗘𝗬, 𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗘! 𝗛𝗘𝗬, 𝗛𝗘𝗬!    𝗛𝗘𝗬, 𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗘, 𝗛𝗘𝗬!       𝗛𝗘𝗬, 𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗘! 𝗛𝗘𝗬, 𝗛𝗘𝗬!          𝙇𝙀𝙏 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝘿𝘼𝙍𝙆𝙉𝙀𝙎𝙎 𝙎𝙀𝙀 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝘿𝘼𝙔!

                                                          ︾︾︾

The Rotom Phone gives its usually sleepy beep to signify a new message.

It had been recieved over a somewhat late breakfast; more of a brunch if anything. Still waking up to become a semi-functioning human, Sordward hadn’t fully registered that he’d recieved a message at all until his brother kept stealing cheeky glances at the screen, and he picks said phone up so he can keep it to himself. Little bugger.

And then, once he reads it, his eyebrows lift ever so slightly with surprise. Why me of all people? What about that spiky head?

“Hey Shirl, do we have anything planned on Saturday?”

Shielbert tilts his head to the side to think it over, leaning on the kitchen counter with his hip and hands cradling a cup of coffee.

“Nothing together, as far as I know.” He pauses to take a sip. “I have my usual therapy with Dr. Rung in the afternoon, but you don’t normally join me for it. Why?”

Sordward smiles, and he begins typing out his reply.

“No reason. I just wanted to make sure my schedule’s clear.”

[txt]: sounds like a plan x do let me treat you though. it’s hardly any trouble for me :)

a soft gasp, the sudden outcry of rotom’s vibration  ( lord she’d be caught dead with the ring on )  having interrupted her mid-speech. practicing in the mirror, her gym antics she’d hoped to pull with her punches. fingers hide her tiny smile, opposing thumb unlocking phone to view the screen. eyes reflect back before the light ignites, along with a flame inside her heart’s chambers  -  beating softly with the flicker of candlelight.

well, she took her leap .    .    .   time to turn it into a bound.

Piers fights a grin as he watches the affront flash across his sister’s face before it’s replaced with mischievous determination. Oh, she’s a smart one, laying it on thick to fluster him. But he raised her. He knows better. 

“Dunno about all that. I guess it’s about the same as wondering how I got the world’s best little sister. Think I used up all my luck right here on you.” 

He reaches again, going to flick her bangs. 

“Couldn’t think of anything better, though.”

dangerous, she likes it!               fingernails of his skirt  -  flicker ghostly passing across her forehead, earns a twitch of thicker brow. so it’s mutually agreed then? fine, so be it. smile dampers, softens into a melting affectionate display that naturally waters visible eye, brings a teary gloss to it akin to one finding adoration in one’s thoughts. her tick comes, raises wrist up out of habit to rest against her chest. a breath, easy  &&.  slow.

ah yes, the dreaded “a piers replied” quirk of mine.

time to crack open a soda, pop my knuckles, and type out a college thesis in reply because the siblings are my hyperfixation.

oh, the  BALLS  of this man. a simple dimple prodded on cheek, where skin festers with a tingling muck fire under epidermis. piers, sorry lonesome piers.  .  .  this meant war. eyes narrow sweetly, lingering on her brother’s adamant smirk that clearly states he’s got the advantage. oh, to play the innocent youngest. smile lifts, somber  &&.  barely there.

      “ Hmm…well you would be CORRECT on that. ”       News spreading already? Colress had an air to laugh again, but instead he simply accepted the dusk ball, lightly putting it a pocket of his coat–of which he had far too many pockets; luckily they were hard to see, blending in mostly. Galar had already showed promise in the signals and aura it was producing, but this was simple kindness. It was nice, he could say.

      “ My name is Colress…I WAS looking to stay, actually…It’s so VERY nice to meet you, Marnie. Pardon my ASKING, I’m not that knowledgeable about the Galarian variants, are there other steel types…? Variant or otherwise. ”

oh, how nice! the way he accepts her offer with an enabling jubilance earns a flutter in her chest. it’s a warmth, the pride of recognition.  .  .  that same feeling she often felt when stadium crowds cheered her name. fingers curl against her sleeve’s hem, a sign she’s smitten with this positive attention to her attempt to congregate a new bond with a stranger.              “ our main function ‘a transport ‘re corviknight cabs, those are flying  &&.  steel types. then we’ve got th’ copperajah line, th’ ferrothorn, galarian stunfisk.  .  . ”

      Really, how many Meowth variants were there–couldn’t there be more purrloins variants--Didn’t matter! Colress gladly leaned down to look at the purrserker, letting out a quiet chuckle. He definitely wasn’t expecting someone to just give him a pokemon, especially not one like this. Did it evolve into this? It was definitely a meowth at some point…

      “ Really?~ Giving this to ME? ”

“ they’re steel types, righ’? words ‘as it y’ve a favoritism f’er steels, so. thought i’d catch one f’er ya. consider it a spikemuth’rs welcome tae galar, sir. ”   dusk ball is politely offered towards the scientist, second to final gym leader letting the tiniest hint of a smile grace her lips.

“…

…please don’t tell the cops to make me go sideways I would probably fit……..”

she mimics locking her lips with a key.               “ y’er secret’s safe wit’ me, buddy. tha’s a promise. ”

“ look, i know i made a gab at taxes an' all, but everyone's lookin' past the reality 'ere. no singular person's tae blame, not even rose. from as 'm aware, taxes 're a two way street; pay t' gain. sad part is, b'cus we can't afford t' pay taxes due t' the fact spikemuth ain' maintained well by government aid, we ain' makin' the MONEY t' be ABLE tae pay taxes. s'a vicious cycle that no ONE PERSON can be tacked on tae blame, y'feel me? m' brother gets angry with th' league 'n the chairm'n, but ultimately th' responsibility lies on us spikemuth'rs t' give them the monetary values they'd NEED 'n order tae help us. ”

     he could never intentionally hurt her.  mistakes  will always be made, it’s practically his middle name.  but marnie means more to him than life itself.  he could never do unto her what was done unto himself.  he’s tried raising her right, steering her away from every vice he’s ever taken up, directing her down a safer road.  but she’s impressionable.  he doesn’t always realize how his actions affect her.

     his fingers curl around her hand, gently squeezing.  no matter how tough it gets, he will always be there for her, until he’s not able to any longer.  he doesn’t doubt his day will come early, but he knows he still has time to  prepare  her.  ❝  yeah.  these things jus’ happen.  ❞  but that doesn’t mean he’d like to make a habit out of it.  he has to remember it’s just marnie under this roof with him.  

     he plucks his hand off marnie as she leans against him, moving his arm around her shoulders to pull her close, squeeze her to his side.  he can work with this.  any moment he gets to spend with her, he  cherishes.  he can practically hear the tug of her lips in her voice.  he snorts softly, shaking his head.  

     ❝  don’t be gettin’ any ideas, li’l girl.  it ain’t th’ funny kind a’ scarin’.  ❞  pulls him back to a darker time, chains him to the  untied sneakers  of a little boy again.  it’s over.  it’ll never happen again.  ❝  have fun figurin’ out how t’ really get me.  ❞

her smile comes naturally at how her brother wraps around her, cradles her like the wee bab he once knew. fingers flick manicured nails against the carpet, let them catch  &&.  fly as he muses just how in the dark she is. a laugh flutters out, lighthearted but mischievous.   “ that a challenge, bruv? y’know i’ll gladly take yeh up on fingerin’ jus’ wot makes y’uh tick. ”

morpeko scampers out from under her bed suddenly, weasels between their hips as it wriggles into marnie’s elbow crook, snuggles in under underarm for a bite at her forearm. not even a wince, just a raise of hand to start the idly itch she’d been practicing upon face against its forehead crest. it’s nice to have a fidget, or a therapeutical partner like morpeko at least. her pigtail swims against piers’ shoulder as she lifts her head at an angle, chewing inside cheek as she sucks in a breath to elicit a faux noise at her pokemon. 

there they are, waving her down from their high-horse of positivity  &&.  cheer. why was it that this cursed cryptid she called a friend followed her to the ends of the earth? they were like piers’ friends, except they were her friend. a hand braces to her cheek as she watches the trainer fumble their way down the stairs of the stadium’s railing, chugging their taller frame towards her like they had been late to catch a train.

“ Oi….. c'mon, Marns. ’m tryin’ ‘ta make th'place a lil’ less like a disasta’… ”

Piers grumbles as he wipes up the new spot on his already very well-lived carpet.

James knew he didn’t really have a purrloin’s chance in hell of getting a position. He put his application in out of pure support - but he couldn’t really have the same Pokemon as Marnie’s ace, and unfortunately Bogan was the only dark type he actually had.

So when Marnie invited him over (not entirely uncommon, but given the timing he was suspect) and sat him down like that he had to hide his smile - he wasn’t trying to be condescending. In fact, he was nothing but proud of her.

He listens as he sips from his coffee, nodding along gently so she doesn’t think he’s losing interest. Finally, when she stops speaking, he smiles brightly.

“– I know, Marns. I love Dark types, but they’re not my passion the same way it is for most here. For those you need as y’trainers ” He replies finally, nodding as he takes another sip. He doesn’t sound remotely bitter. “I’ve only got Bogan, and you have your Grimm as y’ace. Wouldn’t be proper anyway. I honestly didn’t expect to get a spot! Truth is, I put the application in t’help, y’know?”

That sounded a little odd. He fumbled for a moment, rolling his free hand to give his time to formulate words in his head.

“– What I mean is, I’ve watched y’grow up from being knee-high. You an’Piers both. Y’like family, like– the little sister I didn’t have?” He looks away for a moment. God that was awkward. He grumbled and looked back. “Anything you do, I’ll back you, even if I can’t always help. I can’t into words how proud I am of you, of seeing you making these sorts of decisions. You’ve become such an inspiration f’so many people in this town, me included.”

He smiles then, taking another sip.

“You’re one hell of a gym leader and we’re all gonna follow you th’same as we did Piers. I can, though, promise I’m not gonna carry around a banner with y’face on.” He broke into a grin, laughing. “– Even for me, that level of support was a bit much.”

He exhales then.

“You never have to be worried about telling me anything, however blunt it is.”

that’s the kind of spirit she loves to see, someone with dedication to their craft. bede would be lucky to have this kind of trainer under his wing ;   it’s a shame he’s already casted most of his gym’s peons. arms fold triumphantly, clearly comfortable now that the scrafty was out of the bag. shoulders relax, unnerved vocals relieved of their previous tension. it was reassuring to know james had her back, regardless of whether his inclusion in the dark gym would be paramount. nails bite at jacket’s arm out of habit.

“ yeh, i getcha. i ‘preciate th’ support noneth’less.  .  .  wouldn’ be spikemuth wif’out half ‘a ya. ”   eyes close, a fond memory splashing the crowning lights behind shut eyelids. in the dance of pressure flitting along squeezed eyes, marnie watches her brother in screaming lightshow, makeup bold  &&.  lyrics even bolder. it’s a feeling of belonging in his words that lifts her up, that reminds her that it’s okay to be upset with yourself. that’s being honest, true to yourself in ways others could only dream of.

when she opens her eyes again, there’s a gloss to them, the faintest sign she would’ve cried had she no one around.  ( less cried, more-so let a single tear slip. )  marnie reaches for her own mug of coffee, blows the steam from its lip, letting her own dip in for a taste swigged back. it’s a warmth most would find awful, bittersweet medium roast barely graced with a flavored creamer.  .  .  call her cliché. 

times like these were.  .  .  complicated. becoming the new gym leader meant bringing in type specialists, those apparently close in bond  &&.  trusted. a hand ghosts up to brush through her bangs, obviously upset that the upcoming news had to be brought to james’ attention. nobody liked telling people that they hadn’t made the cut, especially not spikemuth’s princess ;   she’d have to let him down easy, even if he could see the right hook coming a mile away.

the kitchen light didn’t make anything any better, what having inviting him over for morning coffee under the flickering light fixture. it almost made it seem like piers’ kitchen was an interrogation room. arms fold, unfold, refold  -  only to fall apart into her usual gimmick, where hand comes to rest just shy of her choker.   “ james.  .  . ”                      “ we need to talk. ”

ugh, that sentence came off her tongue with an iron bitterness, tasting like she had bitten her tongue. she hated this, loathed the responsibility of having to tell someone their type wasn’t a good fit for gym trainer status quo. still, responsibilities were responsibilities ;   she always made sure to drill that into piers when she wasn’t up to base herself.

it was always that fuzzy feeling, wasn’t it? that warmth of when their hands skirted, when pinkie finger traced the outside of her palm in a curious dive to explore her hand’s hold. marnie felt her stomach do flips at the sensation of hop’s heated pad sliding along the outer rim of her hand midway through the crowd’s bustle, like a heat-seeking missile led by his heart. her palm opens willingly, welcoming his grasp into her own as fingers thread together. 

laced like openings in each other’s heart, they combine  &&.  string along as they walk, cautious not to let strangers hustle between their conjoined arms. wyndon was always known for its bustle during tournament weekends, marnie having brought hop along for the ride in her next leg of the match. she’d be going up against milo, grass versus the new dark gym’s leader, something marnie had been chewing herself up over. not that there was much of a type-advantage. she had been more concerned over how clear her head would be on the day of her tournament match.

it wasn’t often marnie found herself saving up to spoil herself at a cafe, her funds were usually spent on household groceries or snacks when piers’ music couldn’t always uphold their home. sometimes pokemon battles  &&.  tournaments came first, where her own earnings would be bunted towards shared living  &&.  their family. fingers slowly unwrap the pastry from its mold, morpeko eagerly perched on her shoulder to sneak a bite or two once marnie brings it up for a taste.                       but that never comes.

it’s gaze leers at her, she who’s consumed by an unfamiliar red hat in a crowd populated by rose’s usual entourage of consumers. the chairman seemed awfully gravitated towards this fellow from another region; maybe that’s what all this popularity fuss had been about in recent rumors. morpeko headbutts her cheek, marnie unconsciously bringing sweet treat up to its mouth to nibble on as she observes satoshi get bombarded by paparazzi. 

she has a habit of staring, not always getting involved right away. a bystander to the abuse of social media  &&.  its outlets, marnie stands aside as they flock to the trainer like buzzards pecking a recently departed. it isn’t until a few of them catch sight of another hammerlocke gym leader that they flee, leaving marnie to once-over the scraps of youth. designer boots carry her towards satoshi, creampuff left with morpeko as her hands fold into jacket pockets.                                             wait a tick --