my first ever pokemon was a charmander! my first game was firered and i chose a charmander cuz it fit the title screen and it ended up being the only pokemon i ever trained. i had to train it to level 75 just to beat lorelei and bruno tbh fjdlsakfj
also fun fact when given the chance to nickname it, i nicknamed it “Charmander” rather than the default CHARMANDER so i got lost in rock tunnel and had a charizard named Charmander. i was a stupid kid.
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“You never allow your beliefs to be compromised. Even in the face of a world that has disenfranchised you and your people, you are steadfast and tenacious. To me, you possess the ultimate strength - the strength of honor.”
2. Something that irritates me or annoys me about you:
“Not to understate things, but you can be rather...reckless. I know it’s in your nature, but sometimes I do fear it will end badly. I’m aware there is no telling you what to do, but I insist...do be more careful?”
3. Something about you that I’m jealous of:
“I suppose I’m jealous of your culture, Zinnia. Not that I would ever envy the atrocities that have been committed upon your people, as that’s rather insensitive... I understand fully what sort of privilege I was brought up in. I simply wish I was instilled with a deeper connection to nature growing up, as you were. To live within the natural world without any care for the greed that perpetuates modern society... now that is the dream.”
4. Something about you I’ve noticed that I bet you don’t think I realize:
“I know you are not fully recovered, Zinnia. I... never expect you to be, and I will never ask such things of you. And though I know you’ll most likely reject that statement with all of your might, I want you to know... that you do not have to always put up this exhaustive front. But until that day, I’ll gladly be the brunt of all of your jokes.”
5. A thought I’ve had about you that I’d be embarrassed to tell you:
“The color of your eyes remind me of a favorite stone of mine, a specimen of carnelian that I coincidentally found in Meteor Falls. ....I-It was just a fleeting thought, that’s all.”
The scent of the sea engulfs her --- waves crashing in the distance. The sun is shining, palm trees blowing. Wingull cry out overhead, flitting along a summery breeze. A picturesque scenery.
They say Alola is paradise and she believes it.
Her fingers are sticky with sugar. A wide smile spreads across her features as she takes a bite from the delectable treat. Her expression melts into pure bliss, letting out a cry of delight.
Malasada --- a donut of sugary goodness. It was no wonder it was such a popular snack item here.
Thinking about how malasada was a local favorite in Alola had her thinking about the local favorite of Unova: Casteliacones. Her favorite.
Unova.
Her eyes softened at the mere thought of the region name. Her home.
How was everyone doing back home?
Her mother, her father.
Bianca, Cheren, Touya.
Were those three still striving to be the best they could be?
Her heart let out an ache and she winced.
Was that guilt or pain or longing?
Probably a combination of all three.
A soft sigh escaped her at the same time the bell to the shop let out a little jingle.
As she toyed with the paper napkin in her hand, her teal gaze wandered absentmindedly towards the door. She almost dropped her remaining malasada in alarm at who stood there.
His name was echoing in her mind and about to roll off her tongue.
Cheren. Cheren. Cheren.
“Ch--” she covered her mouth with her hands in time.
Nope. There was no way she was going to do this.
She had been gone for how long exactly?
Two years?
Three?
Four?
She had lost count already.
There was no way she was going to have a reunion with one of her childhood friends, one of her best friends, in the middle of a malasada shop in the Alola region. His face and name already caused her enough grief and guilt already. She was not in the mood to personally deal with it. Face to face.
She was not cut out for this shit right now.
Nope.
Carefully taking her remaining malasada in its bag, she rounded around the opposite end of the shop.
Oh, mighty Zekrom.
Oh, beautiful Reshiram.
For the love or Arceus?
Please, oh please.
Her name resounded in the little shop, echoing off the walls and reverberating through her.
She halted automatically.
Apparently praying to god-like Pokemon wasn’t enough.
To say that N was too sentimental would be something of an understatement. There was a reason he was considered too soft at times, and it could be easily seen in where he currently was.
Nimbasa City was one that held many memories, both good and bad, but looking back on it, they’re all good memories. Just with Team Plasma and the like going on at the time, it’s quite easy for the memories to seem one way or the other. He’s learned from then though, that thinks aren’t quite black and white, and that there’s no easy answer to anything really.
His return to Unova had been something that was rather rushed and while he’s not happy at what had happened while he was away, at the very least it gives him an excuse to stay in Unova. He hadn’t seen all the region had to offer and was more than likely wandering if he wasn’t at one place.
Usually it was Nimbasa that he stayed the longest in, the place he had the strongest memories of (that wasn’t the castle, or whatever ruins of it where still there), and the place where he waited for a certain someone to return to. Then again, that was all wishful thinking, though it’s not all in vain, right?
There’s something familiar about who he just spotted, and while it’s not who he’s hoping to see, it’s someone he’s wanted to talk to. N knows that he and Cheren never really saw eye to eye those years ago, but people change with time, so maybe he’s changed. His approach is slow, and all he can really manage for now is a tap on his shoulder to get Cheren’s attention and a small wave. After all, what is he supposed to say to someone he hasn’t seen in years, especially to someone that didn’t really like him?
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The League’s off-season was always boring for Grimsley. Challengers, while of course welcome any time, were usually sparse—new Trainers starting off wouldn’t even have one badge yet, let alone enough to enter the Elite Four. It would change in the coming months or even in the coming weeks, but for now, while it was still barely spring, all he could see before him was a long stretch of nothing. Boring, boring nothing.
And so as Elites were wont to do, Grimsley had taken flight out into the region, zipping from town to town, stopping by the desert for his beloved tyranitar and krookodile to play in the sand, and eventually he found himself in the streets of Castelia. Briefly, he stopped by the Gym—no good, Burgh seemed to be out (though that did save him yet another embarrassing scenario of clibing the nearest coat rack when one of the gym leader’s ‘oh so precious’ bugs crawled across his foot)—and then strolled leisurely down the sidewalk, lips pursed as he tried to decide what to waste his time on.
It was too early for a drink, and even if he arbitrarily decided it wasn’t, he could only imagine the lecture he’d get if he went back to the League drunk. Better to keep on his toes and avoid a scandal, or something. Lord knew he’d had enough of those for one lifetime. So he kept on, idly window-browsing shops he had no interest in as he passed. As he came to the decision that he ought to just stop by his favorite sushi restaurant and finally head home, however, he was broken out of his thoughts and distracted stupor as his shoulder collided with someone else, and startled, he stopped in his tracks and whipped around to face them.
“Ah... pardon me,” he apologized once he’d gained his bearings, "I didn’t quite see you, I’m afraid. One ought to really watch where they’re going, hmm?” Snide, pointed comments aside, Grimsley continued to eye them expectantly, waiting for their reply.
The coffee's getting cold. The fireworks are going off in the distance. Rattata scurry about. Ignis is by him, her tail flame allowing him to read by firelight. The coffeeshop is closed and he is perching on the edge of the garden wall, a low hanging thing surrounded by dense shrubbery. A sound. He takes a sip of the cold coffee, writes a bit more.
The autumn air of Kalos is refreshing and far away from the city he feels more alive. Nightfall only heralds the dawning moon and stars. He sips more coffee, letting the cold liquid trickle down his throat in gasps and spurts. He tosses the cup in the air and the ashes soon trail after a bright burst of flame.
Ignis walks beside him, her heavy footsteps leaving imprints in the rain-soaked mud. His smaller footsteps pale next to hers. She nuzzles him with her maw. He gives it a stroke. The inn is further up the path and with only her light to guide him, he feels no fear. They reach the inn, a little muddy and tired but otherwise happy, as happiness is.
Inside, by the hearth of the fire, a young boy is in his favourite spot. He seems to be unaware of Sycamore approaching. Sycamore then takes the spot beside him, sits down with the Charizard beside him. He looks up at the boy, smiles at him and returns to his notes. They do not speak.
There are no other patrons in the inn at the moment and Sycamore thought he was going to have the place all to himself but later, he learns from the innkeeper that passed by that he would sharing a room with the boy because it was the only room that still had space for a supernatural hunting team had decided to hole up in the rest of the rooms.
He attempts to make small talk: Ah, looks like we’ll be roommates for the rest of the week. I wonder who these others are. Ah! I’m Augustine Sycamore, by the way. Pleasure to meet you, Mr.?”
