hero

“ if you knew what was going to happen, if you knew everything that was going to happen next—if you knew in advance the consequences of your own actions—you’d be doomed. you’d be ruined as god. you’d be a stone. you’d never eat or drink or laugh or get out of bed in the morning. you’d never love anyone, ever again. you’d never dare to. ”

x ♫ - AL NIENTE; There was only so much that she could think about in regard of ideas for their trip, only so many options that she could go through. Additionally, even if she were to settle with an activity or two to do, Leah would rather mention it to Red before setting things in stone. Satisfied with the several activities that were readily available for her to do along with Red, she brought up her Pokenav’s map and lined out the directions of said available activities– before her finger landed nearby a certain town that put all thoughts to an abrupt stop. All movement came to a stop as well, her free hand having been squishing at Plue’s paws now simply laid on her lap, causing the Plusle to look up at her with a tilted head.

But there was nothing that her senses could process before her, her thoughts now hurling into what she had wanted to avoid while bringing Red here. Verdanturf Town. Slateport City was rather familiar to her for good reason, her hometown being rather nearby meant several visits to Slateport every now and then. Slateport was not quite the center of her thoughts at the moment however, her hometown being the very epicenter of all these thoughts and emotions. Conflicting emotions had arose: Verdanturf was her home, her prison–  it was where her family was. And even with everything that had happened, she still dearly loved her parents, but it was uncertain of those feelings were mutual. 

Her expression soon turned into one of realization, blinking as she was pulled away from her reverie by the wave of Red’s hand before her eyes.. And it was a rather welcomed distraction, seeing that she ought to pay attention to her now rather than reminiscing ( though with troubled thoughts ) about the past. Hopefully he had not noticed the ever so slight change in her expression, her initial contemplative expression having changed into one that seemed rather somber. Even she had yet to notice– only when the sight of questioning concern from the Plusle on her lap did she realize that her facial features had changed along with her thoughts. Alright, let’s snap out of it!

“ Ah– Yes, I’m okay. Thank you for asking, Red..! ” A smile pulled at her lips along with her words, in hopes that it would provide some sort of reassurance to what she had said. It was not her intention to have allowed her mind to wander to such a degree after all, and definitely not her intention to have this trip ruined with such things. Her attention now returned to their current situation, Leah looked over Red briefly and noted his lack of shoes along with hints that he had opted out of a shower. Entering the Pokemon Center would be.. rather strange to say the least, significantly less strange if they were to remain on the sand. 

There was an alternative, of course. Air conditioning was not available in said alternative, but it was quite definitely better than nothing! “ Alright then! The cafe actually has an outdoor area, so we can see your Charizard from there. It’s not air conditioned, but it’s better to cool down under some fans first instead of going in right away. ” Pointing over at the location of said cafe, she hoped that her reasoning would make sense to the other and that he would be agreeable with it. Regardless, they would be heading the general direction of said cafe anyway, which was why she began making her way towards it, her Plusle trailing behind.           ♪

“…Right,” he mumbles slowly as a brow slowly rises to his hairline. She certainly didn’t seem to be ‘okay’ as she put it, but he doesn’t continue his prying, only sticking his hands deep into this still-damp pockets.

He glances back at Charizard, who seems to be at complete ease resting on top of the toasty sand. He notices the tiny grains rhythmically moving towards and away from his pokemon and he chuckles to himself. 

Already asleep, huh?

At Leah’s words, he lets go of the tension holding his shoulders — he’d rather not wake Charizard up at this moment. Not when he looks at complete ease. He nods and trails closely behind her pokemon — Plue…right? — silently mimicking the way the little pokémon trots (an easy accomplishment as both Red’s shoes and socks are still quite wet) behind her trainer. This makes him let out another, soft laugh. 

x ♫ - AL NIENTE; A nudge. It almost startled her when Red gently did as such, her gaze flitting over to his features to find a sign as to what it was that he wished to convey to her. What she found was a familiar expression of eagerness or perhaps.. anticipation? One that she could recognize and conclude that it was regarding her mention of cold treats. Her response to that was left unsaid, as she watched him take notice of the dismal state of his shoes– she was curious as to how the discomfort caused was not noticed sooner. That was due to the ( hopefully, not to the extent of being unbearable ) heat, if she had to guess. 

Red relenting to, at the very least, tending to the state of his shoes earned a pleased nod from Leah, her train of thought returning back to how she could help. Providing towels would be one way, maybe even ordering something in advance so that he would not need to wait much longer once he was done… Oh! It would probably be wise if she were t o get him the towels right now, and with that thought in mind, she called out to Red: “ Ah, wait! Sorry, I’ll be right back! ” Quickly, she headed over to the stack of towels neatly placed for any beach-goers from a nearby shack, before returning and giving him a towel. 

“ We can return that later when you’re done with it. I’ll be right here in the mean time. ” With that, Leah sat herself down by one of the many benches around, Plue having jumped off before her towel search now jumping onto the bench and sitting on the composer’s lap. Not wanting to give Red any sense that he needed to rush, she– for the first time today, brought her attention away from him, her hands holding Plue’s paws as she seemed to absentmindedly squish them. 

It was much unlike her to be absentminded in any way at all, seeing that she usually spent most of her time observing others and being ( painfully ) aware of her surroundings. But all that was in her mind at the time was simply a constant flow of thoughts about now: where should they go? What should she bring him to do? Her smile having faltered as she had fallen into these thoughts, it was not as though she had lost all enjoyment entirely– rather, a thoughtful expression was displayed upon her features, soft humming soon following. Plue was almost concerned, but the light squishing of her paws was somewhat relieving, in the sense that Leah would not be doing as such if she were in any state that required worry.         ♪

he gladly takes the towel and hangs it on the door. then, he twists the knob — he makes sure he turns on the cold water — and lets the water erase the grains stick on his skin. He bends down to scrub the dirt away from his socks, but he ultimately gives up with a frustrated sigh. 

Red, now fully free from the feeling of sand attacking his feet, wipes the remaining moisture away from the towel generously given to him by Leah. He opens the door and, instead of exiting, he sits down in front of the entryway — his legs folded carefully in his body to avoid more sand. He beckons Pikachu, who was previously stuck to Leah’s side, over with his finger. He places his shoes in Pikachu’s paw and throws the pokeball into the sand. 

All this time Pikachu follows his trainer’s hands and nods, figuring out what Red wanted him to do. 

A feet or two away from the stall stands (lays) Charizard, growling sleepily. Pikachu trots over to the giant lizard, pats the fire-type’s tail (which makes Charizard wake up from his grogginess and perk his head up), and place Red’s wet shoes beside Charizard’s flame. 

The fire-type rolls his eyes and proceeds to look around his surrounding — bright and warm unlike his usual residence. Then, he sees an unfamiliar girl with a strange pikachu. He cocks his head and stares at her. Frustrated by the girl, who didn’t seem to be captivated by his indescribable greatness, he rests his head back down his arms with a loud huff. 

Red shakes his head at the sight, huffing at his pokemon's disappointment. Then, he glances over at Leah and he gasps quietly seeing her completely blank face. He steps down into the sand -- still shoe and sock-less. He jolts lightly when he senses the individual grains of sand tickling his skin -- and strides towards her leisurely.

x ♫ - AL NIENTE; Careful to not repeat her initial mistake, the composer now took to attentively watching over the other while now steadily walking towards the nearby Pokemon Centre. Plue, seemingly having not noticed the pat Red’s Pikachu had given her, now gave inclination of such by mischievously eyeing the other before running after Leah. Said trainer, on the other hand was in the process of watching the small interaction occuring between Red and Pikachu, a soft smile pulling at her lips. 

Her attentiveness was rewarded as Red spoke once more, the slight pout noticed by her but not mentioned, a knowing nod given to Pikachu instead. Comfortably nestled in her arms was Plue, looking up at the shoulder Pikachu had made into a perch momentarily before giving a tiny smirk to Leah. Which yet again, failed to gain her attention as she carefully paced herself, ensuring that she was properly leading him. 

“ The Pokemon Center here is used to visitors from other regions– especially those that aren’t used to the heat her. So they cater to that by offering a variety of cold treats. ” Perhaps her words would allow Red to tide by before reaching the eventual reward, was what she thought as she continued: “ Oh! Both for trainer and Pokemon, that is. But getting you dry is a priority, since the Pokemon Center is air-conditioned… ” 

The sight of said Pokemon Center further away was what caused Leah to stop, but her attention was elsewhere: that elsewhere being a washroom located for those that had been bathing in the sea. “ There should be a few dryers in there for you to use, and you could take a shower if you’d like to! I don’t mind waiting, I’d want you to be as comfortable as possible before we do anything else. ”             ♪

the intensity of his steps decreases significantly when he hears ‘cold’ and ‘treats.’ He pats his stomach (though he tries to play it off to look like he’s smoothing out his shirt) and hums to himself. His walking becomes light, almost as if he’s skipping — he is craving ice cream now.

Sadly, the anticipation of cooling off and getting a refreshing bite of cold custard made the way to the Pokemon Center much too long for Red. He tries to pick up speed once more but soon stops when he feels that Leah’s presence is no longer around him. He looks back and a brow raises when he sees the girl’s focus isn’t on their original destination but somewhere else entirely.

He walks back to her, tiny squeaks and sounds splashes echoing in his steps.

(He looks at the washrooms in awe — are there things like this in Kanto?)

He gently nudges Leah’s elbow with his own, as if to say, ‘I don’t need this. Let’s go to the Pokemon Center quickly. I want ice cream.’ Then, he notices his shoes—

“Ah…”

—covered with wet sand and tiny pieces of seaweed. (It’s also punctured on the sides, but he now notices that those have been there for a while.) He’s sure that everyone in the Pokemon Center will throw a fit if he steps into such a wonderful, comfortable space with this mess.

Sheepishly, he rubs the back of his neck. “It’ll only take a few minutes,” he says after a long pause.

@indiffred     ➹ —                  it’s on the second click he casts from his lighter that vance lights his cigarette. the strong tobacco — thick and bittersweet — he finds refreshing when paired with the crisp air. december lingers behind his nose; the finale of winter, a rough spot in the back of his throat. 

He breathes deeply and -- despite the forest not being its warmest -- Red doesn’t feel the tickling sensation of frigid air in his nostrils but the scent of the damp earth and pine needles. Though a mild weathered forest like Viridian may not be his number one choice for abandoning society to go into hiding training, it was a fine place to visit once in a while -- Pikachu purrs, burying his face deeper into Red’s lap -- and his main companion seems to agree as well. Red runs a finger down the space between Pikachu’s loppy ears and the rolls of his neck; the pokemon twitches, but remains asleep. 

He hoists the yellow ball into his arms and signals Butterfree to return to him. As he waits for Butterfree to fly down from the highest branch of the oak tree, Red breathes out a silent laugh feeling his pokemon tickling his ear with gentle snores. He looks back up and wonders why the winged fellow had yet to come down. Is there something up there that Butterfree’s interested in? Red wonders.

Starter Call! | @indiffred

Hano Grand Resort. Funny; Lane had lived in Akala Island virtually all his life, and never once had he stayed a night there in that hotel. It was always a marvel, looking at that big ol’ place. One stay there would probably empty his pockets and about all the savings he’d kept up in his Tepiggy Bank. He’d hate to smash up the cute little thing; well, it was made of plastic, so, he should say: he’d hate to have to unscrew the cork and spill out all its little penny guts. Seemed a little cruel. They say celebrities went and stayed there the nights - people who’d come from far away to see all the little fixings Alola had to offer. But locals? They didn’t have time for things like that. It was just another set piece they passed by-the-by, and didn’t pay it any mind.

In the middle of this transitionary period, Lane didn’t quite know what he’d do to bring home some money to pay up the rent. After all, he was a roommate to Felix now, he ought to pay up some of the expenses. He found lots of little odd jobs here and there that’d help curb the expenses, one of which being the infamous Pyukumuku chucking to try and keep the beach looking spotless. Sure, they were cute and all, treasured by the locals they grew up with, but tourists often found them unsightly and slimy, dark against the white sandy beaches; that, and they’d be just about killing themselves off staying any longer on that dry, dry beach. So Lane took it upon himself coming to the resort daily to get the job done (they paid him ₽10,000 just to throw Pokemon in the water; how could he complain?!). He only hoped in his mind, each passing day, that he’d catch sight of one of these famous people. He wondered what kinda lives they led.

One such day, his hopes came true. He began by talking to the usualy coastguard, who by then, recognized his face. He walked up to the beach and squatted down by a little Pyukumuku too far into the shore, speaking softly to it. “Wha’dappened t’you, li’l guy? Got lost in this big ol’ shore here? You must be burnin’ up, huh? Here, lemme get’cha back t’where you belong.” As he grabbed the Pokemon by one of its little pink horns, he happened upon the sight of a Pikachu wandering the beach, finding little seashells and returning them to his trainer. His eyes trailed him, then up to the sight of his trainer, and Lane was taken aback - red hat, short hair, Pikachu by his side - could it be?

Lane approached the man carefully, keeping a safe distance away from him and his beach chair and umbrella, his usual shyness taking over him. If this was the Red - the legend, the hero - what would Lane even be able to say? Was he even worthy of his presence? “A-Are you… Mis’sur Red?”

He’s faced dry heat, felt the striking sun of Kanto’s mid-summers, even fought a gym leader whose turf is a volcano, but none of that is anywhere near the thick, murky humidity of the Alola region.

Red, incredibly frustrated with this foreign heat, snaps open the first three buttons of his shirt and buttons them back up when he remembers the voices of the locals commenting about how his pale skin is much too vulnerable to the tropical region’s sun and his friend repeatedly reminding him to put on sunblock (a piece of advice which Red, unfortunately, did not listen to solely because of the fact that he did not like the scent of the sunscreen). With a huff, he lays down on the sand – a mistake – for a brief moment – the sand had scorched through his shirt, stinging his back – and resorts to squatting underneath a small parasol. He fidgets underneath, trying hard to squeeze in the point of his elbow to the thinnest hair on his leg into that awkwardly tiny shadow and slowly he wonders just exactly when he got so…so…so big. 

His bottom lip sticks out; he’s had enough of the hot beach and he begins packing his parasol until Pikachu slaps Red with the cool sea water. He looks back to the pokemon, a brow raised to his hairline and an amused glint shining in his previously dull eyes, and chases after him into the water. 

Just a bit away from the other visitors, Red is now resting in his chair – shirt laid out beneath his seat, wet mop of hair obscured by his hat (which is somehow still on him), feet now coated with grains of sand thanks to the sea water – snoring gently. When his eyes stir open, he wakes up to various shapes and sizes of seashells on his body resembling a smiley face. “Hey now,” he begins sternly, but finds it hard for him to hold in a smile when Pikachu tilts his head innocently. He laughs quietly.

The moment of fun ends when a voice – no, not his friend’s voice, he’d never refer to Red as ‘Mis’sur’ – rings in his ears before his own laughter can. 

Red looks back, pointedly staring at the stranger. He doesn’t answer for a while, not until he sets down a pretty large shell placed over his bellybutton and certainly not until he wrings the moisture out of his shirt and drapes the cloth over his shoulders.

          It’s not the reaction Brock had hoped for, exactly, but it’s clear that he’d surprised Red. That fact is enough to prevent any sour twinge of emotion from creeping in on him. Plus, that was kind of the way Red was, if he was still like the kid Brock remembered.

         “It’s great to see you too, Pikachu,” he said, smiling fondly at the electric-type and crouching down to pet his head. He couldn’t help the question that he thought of every time he remembered Red’s Pikachu—why not a Raichu?—but he’d never asked and wasn’t going to. He thought he maybe already knew the answer anyway.

         He stood up straight again. “Well, I don’t usually get the chance to come by here to train, but I’m glad I did today.” It was true, but as he said it Brock felt something unsavory settle in his chest. For him, visiting Mt. Silver was a treat. For Red it was just… every day. 

        “It must be nice to be able to do that all the time,” he said, biting his cheek at the way the words came out with a sharper edge than they’d had inside his head. Was that any way to start a conversation with a friend? He wanted to talk, not put Red on the defensive.

He removes his clammy hands away from his knees and places them on his shirt. He pinches at the hem ferociously to wipe off his damp fingers and the residue of pesky denim stuck under his nails. 

“Oh,” Red says again while he keeps rubbing his shirt. Eventually, he stops and his shoulders ease – he must be a little under the weather today. Maybe he should see a nurse as well. After all, Red hadn’t seen a doctor for his own medical purposes in a year…or five. 

He finally stands – believing that Brock, a gym leader of high caliber, does not deserve to crouch down to Red’s level to converse with him. Red nods slowly as soon as Brock resumes talking, each of his words ringing distinctively within the younger lad. Red huffs quietly, corners of his lips tilting ever so slightly. He’s quite happy to hear that Brock’s glad to have visited the mountain – perhaps the tiny snowmen Red built at each level of the mountain had finally caught someone’s eye.

He stops smiling if it can even be called that when he feels an uncomfortable ache in his hand. He looks down – knuckles white, hand (yet again) moist with nervous sweat, and shirt slightly stretched and incredibly wrinkled – and unclenches his fist and smoothes down his shirt.

@indiffred liked for a Starter

Selene was going to die today. It’d be all over the news…First League Champion dies from suffocation and lack of air.

Why would she think this?

Well…..

“C-Cmon Mr. Red! Y-You wanna know how to do the Z-Move correct?” She managed to get out without losing her composure and dying from the very image of Red….RED and his pikachu doing the Z-Move.

She had her own Pikachu “Astro” resting on her hat, the Pikanium-Z Crystal on a necklace tied around his neck. Watching his trainer trying to convince another trainer with a pikachu something….

“It’s simple! It’s simple! It also proves the bond between you and your pokemon! You and Pikachu have a very strong bond right? C-Cmon your Z-Move would be awesome!”

Oh. Please. Please. Please. PLEASE say yes. Ever since she’d met Red and his Pikachu at the Battle Tree, she had the natural impulse to see this stoic and powerful trainer to see him do this ridiculous dance. The memory would be one of her most treasured ones. She would probably die from too much laughter. But it’d be WORTH it.

“What do you say~?

He almost drops his cup of warm Moomoo Milk, startled by the uncommon Mister placed before his name; he smoothly brushes off his (hopefully) unnoticeable fumble by putting the cup down on its saucer.

He takes a big bite out of his complimentary biscuit, chewing it slowly to show that he’s somewhat interested in what this girl has to say. He picks away the stubborn crumb with his thumb and rests his hand under his chin. From ‘Mega Evolutions’ to ‘Z-Moves’, pokemon battles sure have elevated to greater, more flashier heights; Red misses the days when a pokemon battle only featured pokemon (nothing like those fancy stones or bracelets or rings) -- 

-- though he is guilty of using Mega Evolutions from time-to-time...only when the situation calls for it.

He begins to smooth out the deepening crease between his brows, wondering whether or not he should accept the girl’s offer. “Hmm...”

“It also proves the bond between you and your pokemon!”

His finger stops moving. Slightly, ever so slightly, Red leans towards her. He wonders if she caught the way his ear perked.

“You and Pikachu have a very strong bond right?”

He stands up...a bit too quickly. His knee meeting the table ledge causes the milk to spill over from its cup, and Red picks the cup back to its upright position -- though half of its contents are now on the table. He covers his mouth and clears his throat much like how he desperately wants to cover up the fact that he spilled milk on the table and clear up the embarrassment.