He much prefers winter. The cold is certainly more tolerable than the heat. Heâd rather wrap up warm than sweat it out. Now, he finds himself standing in line for a cold ice-cream, the only thing that he deems worthy of curing the heat, not to mention that the craving has been around since his first step foot out of the hotel. The Gym Leader is in for a conference in Unova and will be staying around for a week. He finds the climate in others parts of the region rather temperate, but here in the city, he is, to put it plainly, âsuffering from a heatstrokeâ.
Grantâs tolerance of the heat is something that he could never come to terms with. He wishes that he wouldnât break into a sweat whenever he steps out into anything above 80 degrees. As he mulls this thought over, he reaches the front of the line. Ordering his favourite - pistachio, he pays, smiles and finds a spot to sit so that he may fully enjoy his little treat. There is no other spot apart from one occupied by another man; everything else is completely filled.
So he does what a desperately hungry and sweltering person would do: he asks if he can sit beside him. Politely: Excuse me, would it be alright if I take the spot next to you? His treat is beginning to melt at the edges and his legs are about to give way from exhaustion, considering he had walked quite a distance to this spot, it was famous for its ice-cream.
He awaits his answer in silence as he licks the edges of the cone in an attempt to stop the flowing onslaught of melted ice-cream.
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   Hours are lost inside Oreburgh Gate, his company the ever pressing cold, a still pool of water and the darkness that muffled the sounds of the pokĂŠmon that lived there. The area is restless and alive with their activity, yet he never spies one through the light cast by hidden machineâs flash, its source from a Ferrothron that hangs lazily above him. A steel sentry that only moves to follow after its trainer while yellow eyes keep constant watch for any form of a threat.
   Steven makes his first discovery towards the back of the cave: a strange plate nestled beneath clumps of rock he has to break to pry it from where it rests. He marvels over its smooth surface laden with cracks stretching out over grooves that must have been an inscription of some sort. Whatever is scrawled there is hard to make out and define, so he decides to look at it later and slips the tablet into a bag he brought with him. Shouldering it over his winter coat he presses further back, climbing up and over rocky terrain to venture closer to the wall that towers up over him and everything else in the cave, barring any further progress and depth.
   âWeâll look here today, â he addresses no one in particular, satisfied with what he sees among uneven surfaces littered with broken rock and mineral alike. Â
   Its there he comes to settle, removing his bag to rifle through it for tools and a leather bound book he is never seen without. Time is lost on him again, slipping by like sand as he sifts through only a small portion of the given area and is met with a reward far greater than is expected. As the surface of rock gives way under the influence of iron he is met with something pleasant; unexpected.
   Lips part in surprise as he draws away the stone, meticulousâcareful in his craft to work away at the treasure embraced within the earth. He extracts it with effort and soon holds it up for Ferrothron to behold, a noise mixed with excitement and joy expelling itself with a laugh.
   âItâs a fossil!â He calls as the pokĂŠmon lowers herself towards the ground and detaches from the ceiling.
   The ground trembles upon her landing, but it hardly stops Steven from moving towards her, the glowering light emitting from her enough to make him squint at such close proximity as heâs set on sharing his discovery with her. Interest makes itself present in her narrow eyes as he starts to explain exactly what it means, what it defines: a companion. Through the garble and struggle of Steven trying to identify which pokĂŠmon heâs found she understands that single fact and grows impatient with his rambling.
   A nudge reminds him as much as it sends him stumbling two steps forward off balance and with a reluctant sigh he starts to pack his things, âyou win, but youâre carrying me back~. Donât pretend you didnât hear me, you wouldnât want this fossil to get all wet making me swim back, hmm?â his teasing is filled with nothing but love for his companion, the expression shared as she gently scoops him up in one of her arms, sets him atop her and uses the ceiling as a means to get them across.
   Itâs not long before he climbs the steps to the first floor and heads southeast towards the entrance of Oreburgh City. As the light cast from a setting sun floods through the eastern gate Steven returns Ferrothorn to her ball and is about to rummage through his pockets to find his Pokenav when he catches sight of someone making their way into the city. He canât hope for a better opportunity than this, his pace picking up as he tries to catch up with them.
   âExcuse me!â he calls out to them, tone polite and friendly as the very smile that softens his dirtied features. âI donât mean to take up much of your time, but could you show me where the mining museum is?â
â : How does your muse react to possibly dangerous situations? Do they face them head-on, or do they plan out their actions first?
//Guzma will fight anything that moves and also many things that donât. Heâs learned from experience that you canât just sit still when somethingâs threatening your safety, and that depending on someone else to secure your well-being leaves too much up to chance; people arenât always there when you need them. The best way to protect himself from dangerous situations, heâs decided, is to destroy whatever the threat is before it destroys him.
Heâs a little off from the ânog but as the doorbell rings, he totters over, small dainty steps pitter patter towards the door and finds the other standing in the snow-covered front yard.
He need only move aside before that figure rushes in for warmth.
So those small dainty steps pitter patter with world-worn thumps back past the hallway, then into the living room where a warm hearth is crackling.Â
Here. Merry Christmas.
The ânog, still in effect, does not faze him as he rips open the paper package, thinly wrapped with colorful wrapper and the only thatâs spared is the ribbon adorned tiny rhinestones. He gapes at it like a little child.
There is a little chuckle and a red-face.
Right! Sorry about that!
Inside is a fine piece of rhodochrosite and pewter, melded into a Skarmory taking flight.
Thank you! Thatâs really sweet of you! You really didnât have to go out of the way to get it. Here is yours, he says, handing over a small velveteen box. Only the best, he adds, as the other gapes at the gleaming piece of ruby.
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Well this should be interesting. I suppose we do have a lot of common interests (fossils, rocks, excavating, traveling for excavation... more fossils... more rocks...) so that's something to start with, right.
So I totally disappeared yesterday... and never replied to anything. I went in early to work thinking that I would have time to do some fun stuff with all of you guys here, but got distracted and then never did anything. SO! I'mgoing to reply to what I got sent yesterday here.Â
âˇÂ Texting meme
flaregruntjacqueline asked you:
?? dunk text
hry! i know we've our differences in the past, but i thnik your a nice person. let me know if you ever need anything ever
runawayhazard asked you:
â ! hateful text
listen here you little shit, you need to get your act together and move on with your life. stealing is not a viable way to make a living and I need you to return the jadeite that you stole from me. NOW!
roarked-up asked you:
â drunk text
roark ROARK!!! WE NEED TO GO MING TOGETHER XD SO MANY ROCKS AND PRECIOUS PRECIOUS STONES TO EXCAVATE!!! I WILL WILL MEET YOU IN SINNOH!!!
