[X] My Assistant

[stbyleth]

OOC.

It was a nice spring day. Everything was perfect, it seemed. The sun was out, bathing everything in its glow and warmth, free for all that moved and even for those that didn't. The Taillow and Starly sat in the trees, happily chirping and singing each other delightful songs about the new spring day that they were gifted with. Their evolutions soared high in the sky, creating a dance like no one ever witnessed, skidding and gliding and twirling with the clouds. The grass was high and the Pokemon that ate it feasted, as they could have sworn that they had eaten it just the day before. The waters of the nearby rivers and lakes practically overflowed with joy, and the fish pokemon swam through it, dashing and racing with each other, seeing who could get to the top first. This day, it seemed, was almost too perfect. Everyone would come miles to witness this amazing day. 

... If only it wasn't raining. 

The boy sighed, pressing his forehead against the window of the PokéCenter. The condensed water from the air stuck to his skin instead of the cold window. The boy, who really wasn't a boy for he just looked it, had such a wild imagination sometimes. This was one of those times. Too bad he couldn't hear the sound of the torrential rain raking at the side of the building. To anyone else, it sounded as if the building would be completely ripped off and everyone inside would be exposed to the natural elements. But, alas, the not-really boy couldn't hear, for he was deaf since birth. 

The Riolu tugged on its trainer's sleeve to awaken him from his sad stupor. Celino, that was the boy's name, blinked and looked down at him, giving a quizzical look. The blue pokemon gave a wry smile. Celino knew that smile, and he knew something bad was about to be proposed. He was tugged away wordlessly, blinking as he was so. 

The PokéCenter was small, yet quaint. It was only a small stop on the side to rest whilst Celino's team made their way to another stop, the Loch Ranch. The Italian, having grown up on a breeder's farm, wanted to, of course, see this ranch and compare it with his father's (even though, deep down, he knew he would never think anything was better than his father's ranch). The PokéCenter had only a few people in it, probably staying out of the rain. The others were all smart enough to not travel in the rain, unlike Celino.

Celino, still being led by his own pokémon, tripped over a small male Nidoran, letting out a small yelp as his ankle twisted and he fell flat on his face. He made a small thud and the pokémon let out a small growl. The Riolu, Blue, however, came to the rescue and persuaded the Nidoran to leave his trainer alone, that he was sick. 

Meanwhile, said trainer stood up, a little wobbly. He didn't have any pain or scratches, he deemed after looking himself over. He straightened his jacket and glared down at Blue, who smiled sheepishly up at him; Blue then proceeded to make the sign for 'battle' in sign language, then pointed over at a boy who had just walked into the center. Celino followed the point and sighed.

Just walked in, he signed, using the spell-out method, since Blue only knew the alphabet. Blue huffed, Celino picked him up, and they went back to sitting, Blue making a fuss. The platinum blonde boy pulled him off his orange clothes and set him on the ground. He dug through his bag and brought out two pokeballs; pressing the buttons, a shy looking Nincada — Cut — and a selfish looking Pichu — Pride — were released. 

Tomorrow, they would be at the Ranch, hopefully without any problems. Pride fluffed his fur and frowned, looking around, upset that they weren't at the ranch just yet. Blue sat there with his arms crossed and lips pursed. Cut moved close to Celino, who picked him up and hugged him with a sad smile.

And only then did he realise how lonely and homesick he was.

Hey Luke, I was hoping we could skip the battle, so as to get to the ranch quicker, since Eron is already there and we want to incorporate him asap. Besides, we could always have a threeway battle there, or with some of the pokemon on the ranch. 

I also would like to mention I bunnied a bit, saying James had walked in. Of course, Celino doesn't know who he is just yet. 

Cheers.

[Ganymede]

It had been a rough few days for Cameron Ramirez.

First off, everyone at Loch Ranch was way too nice. Every morning at the crack of dawn he awoke to the smells of eggs, bacon, pancakes, and Arceus-knows-what other kinds of stereotypical countryside breakfast foods. It wasn't so bad at first - these bumpkins knew how to cook better than most of the caterers at Cameron's concerts - but after they started offering to let him milk the Miltanks himself he drew the line.

And then there was the near-total lack of communication with anyone not living on the ranch. Cameron supposed that would be a good thing taking his plight into account, but still. No cable TV. No cell phones. There was a radio, but it usually only picked up static. With nothing else to do, Cameron found himself wandering the vast grounds of the ranch, avoiding mud pies and giving sullen glares to the ever-cheery ranch hands. That is, he wandered until the storm hit. Having just escaped the tropical mess - and the mud that followed - in Lenolia days before, Cameron spent a good two hours yelling into his pillow until he realised it was messing up his hair. Then he yelled some more, because there wasn't any hairspray at the ranch either and it wasn't like anyone cared at all.

The worst thing, though - the one that just took the cherry-topped cake - was that absolutely nobody could know who he really was. If word got out that Cameron Ramirez, rock star beloved by many a teenage girl and heir to the Ramirez Music fortune, was running around on a ranch somewhere, his reputation would be screwed. Oh, and his father would find him and do horrible, horrible things to him. That too.

So, Cameron was forced to change his looks and name; not that bad. Up until his mum died everyone had called him Eron, and Ingress was his mum and aunt's surname. Easy enough to remember, and foreign enough to confuse anyone who asked. The personality and history overhaul was just pushing it, though. Now Eron was a kind and wholesome, recently orphaned boy from the lower class of Petropolis, desperately trying to make enough money to reunite with his elderly aunt in Arasam. The bleeding hearts at the ranch ate it up, and Eron thanked Arceus that they were so thick. If any of them even glanced at his pack in the room they'd lent him, they'd notice the staggering amount of cash Terry had sent him before he left Lenolia.

After the second day of torrential rain, Eron decided.

He hated Loch Ranch.

☼

Things did not get better the next day.

"Oh, honey!" Granny fussed, plopping an extra butter-and-syrup drenched pancake onto his plate. "Could you do us a favour once breakfast is done?"

Eron winced. He knew this would come eventually - physical labour. Of course, he needed to 'earn money' somehow, and if he was going to act the part of a kind-hearted orphan he guessed doing favours was a good stepping stone. With some difficulty, he swallowed the last bit of the first pancake.

"Uh, yeah. Sure. But, uh, will I have to use my arm too much?" Eron lifted his right arm slightly. After being struck with a knife coating in anti-coagulants in Lenolia and losing a lot of blood, Eron was leery of doing things that would stress the still-healing wound. Runner learned this the hard way when he absentmindedly jumped onto the wrong shoulder and nearly got thrown out the window.

"Well, yes and no. But don't worry, it's not in the rain, at least!" A hearty laugh, as if she'd told a joke. Charming. "See, we just got in a new shipment of eggs. They need to be taken out of the boxes and put into the new incubator shed near the greenhouse. The eggs really shouldn't be put under so much pressure to hatch, but the group that wants them needs them hatched ASAP."

Before Eron could ask what was so important about the eggs, the rest of the ranch hands rushed in, soaking wet and muddy from their pre-breakfast chores and hungrier than a herd of Snorlax.

[ZapdosZulu Hunte...]

As James walked through the crystal clear doors of the pokemon center he saw all types of trainers big or small either resting or just trying to get out of the rain. With this weather it wasn't good for travelers that wanted to make it to their destination. Certainly for James as he wanted to go out and explore and what a way for it to start. He was hoping to go to Loch Ranch. He had gotten a broacher from Port Barley after he had hoped off the boat and it showed a little rural town with Ranch Hands and Mr & Mrs Loch and there daughter Nessie. James was looking forward to going there but after that huge walk from Port Barley to the outskirts of Loch Ranch he was tired and so were his pokemon. He decided that he was going to stay the night at the PokeCenter and leave ripe and early in the morning. As he hoped it wouldn't rain in the morning.

He grabbed his three pokeballs of his belt and pressed the button as Muddy, Frosty and Trikey came out of the leery red light . He looked at them and they were happy to be with him, he sat down on a lounge in the PokeCenter and started thinking about his future and what he was going to do with it. He then took his bandanna off his head and placed it down and looked at it. His dark black hair was all the way down to his nose as he pushed it out of the way he thought of the bandanna and thought about home and how he was already missing it. As a tear dropped down his face he had realized how much his Mother had taken care of him until he decided to go on his journey to become a Gym Battler and a Pokeathlete. Which wasn't the true story he had told his Mother.

James walked over to the desk at the PokeCenter and put Muddy, Frosty and Trikey in there balls and asked the Nurse Joy to heal them. She delightfully did and then handed the balls back to James and asked if he was going to stay the night at the Center he had told her he was on his way to Loch Ranch and he needed some rest before he went on in the morning. She told him that Mr & Mrs Loch are very nice people. Meaning she must be friends with them, James walked back over to the lounge he was sitting on and let his pokemon back out of the Pokeballs as they felt better but needed some rest. But so did James...

☼

As James woke up he couldn't hear the thud of the rain on the roof of the PokeCenter, he hoped up as his pokemon woke up from the state of sleep and he stretched as he grabbed his bandanna and put it back on his head he grabbed his bag and Pokeballs and walked out of the PokeCenter with his pokemon following him he had set his path to Loch Ranch. He was hungry as he hadn't had breakfast and had heard about Mr & Mrs Loch serving breakfast to people stopping by. He was hoping they would let him stay there for a while and get something to eat and then maybe paying them back by helping out on the Ranch. He kept on walking down the brown gravel road with rocks sticking out of it. It wouldn't be the route a biker would take as they would have popped tires from the stones and rocks on the path. As he kept on walking he saw a sign it said

"Loch Ranch! Home of the Loch's Ranch!"

James was excited to see he had made it to Loch Ranch and so were his pokemon as he looked at them. They were all hungry and looked excited to have arrived in a town with mysteries that they can solve and help out. As they walked past the sign they arrived at a wooden door and he knocked. Before he knew it a girl was at the front door. She looked young and after a while James figured out it was Nessie from the broacher. She said for James and his pokemon to come in and have some breakfast. James happily accepted with his pokemon following his lead. He looked around the place and there were different pictures and painting of the Ranch Hand's and Loch's doing things around the Ranch. As James looked forward he realized there was a table in front of him, as Mrs Loch was handing out food to Ranch Hands and visitors he looked around and saw all the people and was hoping that maybe he could make new friends at Loch Ranch. As he sat down Mrs Loch served him some Bacon and Eggs and his pokemon some Poke'Pellets and asked him whether he was just a passer by or if he was going to stay for a while. He politely asked if he could stay and help out at the ranch. Which she was very happy. He and his pokemon started eating there food and were happy to be at Loch Ranch.

Ok James is just having breakfast. Surprisingly that is my biggest post ever for RPíng. Hope This RP works out well.

[stbyleth]

The team was soundly asleep, huddled together tightly with one another. Celino lay on his side, facing away from the centre of the PokéCenter; the Nincada was found in his arms, snuggled against his chest; the Pichu was on the trainer's side of the stomach, frown from the previous night still apparent on his features; and the Riolu lay on his master's lower legs, doing a half back bend over the appendages.

It was a few hours past dawn, and most of the people were beginning to wake up. Stirred by the sounds, Blue perked his tiny ears up before slowly sitting up to take a gander around. People were stretching and waking one another up, smiling happily and speaking their confusing human language. He cocked his head for a minute and tried to figure out what they were all so joyful about, until one woman pointed out the window. He slowly turned to look…

… it wasn't raining anymore! 

The sun wasn't out, of course, and the sky looked ready to dump more water on the outsiders at any moment, but at least it wasn't raining skitty and growlithe like it had been the past few days. They could go to the ranch, and not get rained on again if they hurried!

Ecstatic, Blue jumped off the sofa and tugged on a lock of his master's stark white-blonde hair. He received a groan in reply to his action and waited patiently until the other sat up. Once Celino did, he turned and glared down at the Emanation Pokémon, Cut waking up slowly in his arms due to the sudden movement. 

In the process of sitting up, Celino had knocked Pride off his side, who landed on his plump face; the pokémon shook his head and twitched his ears a few time, looking absolutely displeased. He rubbed the pink spots on his cheeks, generating a few sparks; he shocked himself and let out a noise of stronger displeasure. Fed up now, he picked up his pokéball and returned himself, going to sleep quickly. 

Celino shook his head at the Pichu, but he smiled anyway. Looking back at Blue, who was waiting impatiently for his trainer’s attention again, Celino gestured, as if to ask what it was. Blue pointed over the Italian’s shoulder, and both he and Cut turned to look.

A warm smile came over the man’s face upon seeing that it was just cloudy and overcast now and he stood. He set Cut down to put his things back in his messenger bag and slung that over his shoulder. He picked up the bug pokémon again and let Blue lead the way out of the PokéCenter, Nurse Joy waving to them as they left. 

༄

It was a fairly long walk to the Ranch, even coming from the PokéCenter near it. With each step, the sky became darker and darker. Celino was worried about this, but it would be counter-productive to turn and head back now. As he felt the starting drops of water fall on his nose and cheeks, he returned Cut to his pokéball and put up his hood. Keeping his head down and looking up every now and then, he began running, Blue trailing behind him hastily. 

The sign for Loch Ranch came into sight just as the rain began falling harder. Picking up the speed, Celino and Blue made it to the greenhouse first, as it was the closest. Stopping to catch his breath, he glanced around; he was alone, but there was movement outside. He turned to look, pressing his face against the warm glass, pushing his hood down, and wiping away the condensed water to see. Blue followed suit after a few seconds of observing his master.

There were people carrying boxes into a larger house. As he squinted, he could see the tops of colourful eggs poking out of the boxes. Pokémon! 

Celino watched all of the men and women hurrying around, sloshing through the thick mud to get into the house — presumably the incubator for the eggs they were carrying — as quickly as they could. There was one man, blonde haired, that looked like he did not want to be there at all: He carried the box he was given with clumsiness, as if his arm was weak or something along those lines, and his facial expression (Celino was ace at reading expressions after such a long time of using just that and body language to understand what a person was saying) showed clear irritation at the rain and mud. He disappeared within the incubator shed, and others filed after him. After a few moments

A hand fell heavily on the young man’s right shoulder; Celino jumped, letting out a yelp as he was spun around slowly. A brunet man — a ranch hand most likely, come to check on the greenhouse — was staring down at him, a confused (and also kind of suspicious) look embedded in his face. 

“Kid,” he started, not realising or knowing that Celino was twenty-one and legally not a kid anymore, “what’cha doin’ in here? This isn't a place for visitors.” He removed his hand from the other’s shoulder. 

Celino blinked. The man seemed to have such a weird, unknown accent and distinct way his lips moved that he was unable to read them. Lost for a minute, looking stupid, he pulled out his notepad and a pen from his bag. Scribbling, he showed it to the ranch hand, who read it aloud painstakingly slow.

“‘Can't… understand… ‘m deaf…’ Oh! Izzat it? Well, let’s see if we can get some’un who can understand ya…” He smiled down at Celino — who, once again, couldn't understand his lips — before gesturing toward the door. 

Celino nodded to him and hurried out. Picking a fast-paced jog, so he could get out of the torrential rain quicker than if he were walking, his hood flapped in the sudden rushes of wind and his eyes were on the spot of ground just before his feet to watch out for any large mud pits. Blue followed him for awhile but moved in front so the trainer could follow easier. However, Blue went out of site — he had been going too fast — and Celino blinked—

His run came to a screeching halt as he crashed into someone. The momentum he still possessed knocked them both over into the mud, though Celino was considerably luckier as the other caught his fall; he only got the thick mud on his palms and pants. Scrambling up to sit on his knees, the trainer looked to see who he had run into. It was that same man from before, that Celino had thought was familiar and who looked like he loathed the Ranch. Upon closer inspection, he figured out who it was.

Cameron Ramirez! Furoh's hottest singer!

This post has been edited by clock lock works: Jan 10 2011, 07:51 PM

[Ganymede]

Eron guessed the term for this sort of thing was 'organized chaos' - Arceus knows he'd heard it enough during the pre-concert scramble. Ranch hands were running around furiously, picking up boxes of brightly-coloured eggs and rushing them from the truck parked in the greenhouse to the adjacent incubator. Not really knowing where to start, Eron stood near a clump of sweet-smelling bushes and watched the others scurry about, shouting and having what appeared to be a good time. Runner, in his usual place of his shoulder, was nervously munching on a cracker Mrs Loch had shoved at him before they'd been shuffled out the door. Eron could feel the Pichu shivering through his clothes, and the teen briefly wondered if the electric rodent was getting sick - all the stress he'd been going through was probably doing hell on his immune system.

Before he could ask Runner is he was feeling okay, Eron found his nose pressed, rather painfully, into a box full of eggs. "C'mon, kid," the man behind the box grunted, dropping the box into Eron's hesitantly outstretched hands before picking up two more. "Gotta work to earn your keep 'round here. This box goes next to the generator, at the back of of the incubator."

Eron frowned and glanced inside the box, curious. Why would they need to go next to the generator? He got a glimpse of staccato black-and-white shapes before the ranch hand pushed him forward, sloshing through the mud between the greenhouse door and the incubator. Runner sniffled, nibbling at his cracker unhappily as Eron struggled to hold up the heavy box, even as others emptied theirs and ran back to get the next shipment of eggs in. Making his way to the very back, he stopped for a breather as soon as he reached the large, humming mechanism he assumed was the generator. Sure enough, another cluster of the black-and-white eggs was already there, pushed close together and partially covered with a lawyer of sawdust. Praying that Runner wouldn't sneeze and upset the dust Eron quickly emptied the box, laying out the eggs in a similar pattern the the ones already there. Eron was no-one to judge, but it did look rather good for his first effort.

"C'mon, Slowpoke! We're done!"

"Wha-" Eron spluttered, suddenly finding himself carried along by a crowd of rain-drenched ranch hands. "But I just got done with the first box!"

"Yeah, an' took yer sweet time with it!" The girl - large and muscled, definitely not his type - laughed boisterously. "Hey, don' worry, city slicker. You'll get the ropes, no time flat."

Slightly disgusted at the fact that people out here actually used the term 'city slicker' ironically, Eron pulled up his collar and hunched over as he walked back into the rain. The farmhouse wasn't far, but the constant wetness was enough to make it seem like forever. On top of that Runner was shivering again, his shoulder had begun to ache, and a bright orange blur was racing towards him...

...wait, what?

With no time to react, Eron could only throw up his uninjured arm in a feeble attempt to ward off the rabid man before he felt himself falling backwards into a nicely-sized puddle of mud. As if life didn't suck enough already - now his hair had rain AND mud in it! Grumbling, Eron brushed back his darkened dirty-blond hair out of his eyes and glowered at his attacker, half-expecting a paparazzo with a camera to be standing before him. Instead it was just a kid in the most obnoxious outfit he'd ever seen, hair roughly the same colour as Eron's used to be. Runner let out a wail and squirmed underneath Eron's leg, large brown eyes watering.

"Calm down, crybaby," Eron breathed, gingerly getting up. He felt mud on his butt. Great. Brushing his shirt off as best he could - like it would matter, the mud would never come out of it - he debated on whether or not to sock the guy. Remembering just in time that he was supposed to be incognito, he instead reached down to help the fashion-impaired man up.

"Uh, sorry about that. My name's Eron Ingress. Did you just get here?"

[stbyleth]

Celino stood up quickly, shaking his head. He reached for his notepad and pencil, but it was decidedly too wet to do anything with paper. Unable to communicate, he felt helpless, completely not noticing that Cameron had spoken to him. He looked down at the ground and Blue was at his side once more, staring Cameron down.

The Italian sighed and pointed to the house, looking up under his sodden hat’s rim. He nodded and began walking at a relatively quick pace. He didn’t enjoy the sky pissing on him, after all. He returned Blue – despite his protests at doing so – and took off his vest, revealing a long sleeved, black turtleneck. The ranch hand who had caught Celino in the greenhouse was also there. Having seen the collision, he offered towels to both Cameron/Eron and Celino.

“Oh, ya gotta watch out fer the mud. ‘Tis tricky in the rain,” he explained, more towards Cameron than the other, who was drying his hair with the towel, holding the ragged hat in a hand.

The ranch hand continued, “Eron, don’t know this boy’s name, bu’ he’s deaf. So ‘twould be wise if ya didn’t speak sa fast.” And with that, he took his leave, leaving the two men in the kitchen area alone.

Celino set his bag on a table like contraption, pulling out a pad of paper and scribbling on it. He tried to make his handwriting, normally messy, more readable, especially since the paper was semi-wet just from being outside, even when not in the rain. He held up the pad in front of Eron’s face, a foot or two away.

You’re Cameron Ramirez! it said.

He pulled it back down and waited for some sort of reply. He set the towel near his bag, which just ended up pushing it over. One of the three pokéballs fell out, and soon a Pichu – looking very disgruntled and somewhat groggy, as if he had just woken up – fell amusingly on his bottom. He rubbed his eyes and cheeks and glanced around, eyes falling on a certain other Pichu.

Pride’s fur bristled on end, glaring at Runner. Even though Pride didn’t know where he was, he had touched the ground – this warranted enough evidence that this was his territory. He stood up and latched onto Celino’s pant leg, then pulled himself up until he rested on the shoulder of his trainer. Celino, blissfully unaware of his Pichu’s imminent rage and/or upcoming electrical shock. Neither happened however as Celino wrote on the pad, I’m Celino Molenaro. Nice to meet you, Cameron.

He smiled.

This post has been edited by clock lock works: Jan 12 2011, 09:34 PM

[Ganymede]

The kid completely ignored him, instead pointing back towards the farm house before beginning to walk away. Huffing - he wasn't used to being brushed off so brazenly - Eron followed at a brisk pace, a farm hand he hadn't noticed sliding up beside him with miraculously dry towels.

So they do have room service.


“Eron, don’t know this boy’s name, bu’ he’s deaf. So ‘twould be wise if ya didn’t speak sa fast.”

"Wait...deaf?" Eron spluttered, the towel half-falling off his face. This certainly changed things. He had a very sudden, vivid memory of almost a week before, at the Pokemon Centre in Lenolia. Raven had been sorting the Pokeballs of the Pokemon they'd rescued, only to have a particularly clingy Larvitar hang onto her every move. At the time he'd thought it odd, but later, while on their way to Loch Ranch, she had told him that it was deaf. It had been a slight shock, looking at that happy face - then again, all of Raven's Pokemon remained content despite their disfigurements. He guessed the boy was much the same way - that would certainly explain the garish outfit.

By now they were in the kitchen. Eron sat down next to the still-warm stove, Runner slipping off Eron's shoulder to curl up next to the warmth, shivering miserably. He was definitely getting sick. Before Eron had time to worry about finding Mrs Loch and seeing if she could help, a much more pressing matter pressed itself against his face.

The handwriting was so sloppy that at first he had trouble making it out. After backing up a smidgen and leaning forward, mouthing out the letters, he was finally able to make sense of the words.

You’re Cameron Ramirez!

All of Eron's breath left his body in a rush and he sat back heavily. Normally he'd have been flattered, but in light of his status as a fugitive, this was about as worrying as a pack of starving Mightyena at the door. Blanching, Eron quickly thought of his options - lie and try to bluff his way out? No, his fans knew him when they saw him. Let him in on the secret? Terry had explicitly instructed him not to tell anyone he couldn't trust; having Raven and Tag know already seemed to be too much. But this kid was deaf, and they'd probably be stuck on the ranch for a while. There was no use in avoiding this.

Reading his next scribble carefully, Eron began to talk and remembered to slow himself in time. "Celino. Right. Um, I need you to do me a favour, okay?" Glancing around, he made sure none of the nosy ranch kids had their noses pressed against the window. "I'm hiding from someone. I can't tell you who or why, but nobody can know who I am. Okay?" He paused for effect, making sure to stare straight into Celino's eyes as he talked. Not like it would do much, with him watching Eron's lips (which was actually kind of creepy, now that he thought about it). Plus, he was still wet and covered in mud. Not exactly intimidating.

"You think you can help me?"


☼


Runner was nothing more than a tight yellow ball of miserable. Shuddering occasionally, he berated himself from refusing to get into his ball when the rain had started all those days ago. What he'd give to be back in the penthouse, sipping hot cocoa and eating Gerpa berries in front of Eron's wide-screen TV with over 2,000 channels. But no, instead he was cold and wet on the floor, feeling steam rise out of his fur. This day could not get worse.

He felt something.

Peeking a single eye out of the ball he'd squished himself in, he at first thought someone had mounted a mirror on the orange guy's shoulder. A second glance told him that it was another Pichu - and an angry looking one at that. Wracked with a shudder that was as much fear as illness, Runner curled back into a ball and hoped that the next time he woke up, it would be somewhere warm and stress-free.

[stbyleth]

Celino cocked his head slightly, watching the superstar talk. What was he going on about? No one could know? But… now Celino knew, so that would just further complicate things and it wouldn’t end up going well but Celino couldn’t talk so therefore he couldn’t tell anyone but why would he tell someone in the first place because the man is obviously hiding from someone or something since he’s at a ranch that he looks like he hates with a passion and telling Celino that no one could know…

This was all confusing.

But the Italian played along. He would be glad to. He was out of the rain and had his pokémon. Where’s the harm in making a few friends before he gets to Arasam anyway?

He stared for a bit more longer before looking away slightly. He grabbed his notepad and scribbled, Help with what? and gave a quizzical look as he showed it to Eron. He gave another soft smile as he lowered the notepad and set it on the table once more.

But something was off… If the Ramirez was trying to hide, why had he only changed his hair colour slightly and not changed the cut? That was a dead giveaway! He scrawled on the pad once more, this time holding it close to his face before showing it to the other.

You’re easily recognisable. The hair. His expression was some mix between sympathy and a sort of twisted happiness. Then again, Celino loved all in the world (for the most part) and was always generally happy. By this time, his own hair had sufficiently dried, same as his clothes. His vest, sadly, was still quite damp, as he found out when he pat it down to check, and so he couldn’t wear it again just yet. He pulled the ends of his black sleeves over the bottom of his palms and stood there, shoulders high up against his neck.

He looked like a child.

A happy one, though!

°°°

The Pichu switched shoulders as the other poked itself out of the makeshift ball. When the other gave off a shudder – Pride automatically assumed it was fear, naturally – and tucked itself back in, Pride smiled widely – almost maliciously – and nodded. His ears twitched, and he was glad that he had won this small battle.

After all, it was his territory forever and ever.

He looked at the other man that his trainer was talking too. He cocked a head, much like Celino had done a few moments before writing, and stared intently at him. Now, Pride wasn’t a Riolu that swore to protect Celino, but he could smell trouble – at least, trouble for him, not necessarily anyone else – from a kilometre away. But this man was okay. He looked a little lost and hopeless even, like he desperately needed someone to hold onto or befriend. He also looked like he used to be a complete bastard before something happened. But he wasn’t anymore... and that was good, right?

The yellow pokémon was still a bit wary, so he stood guard on Celino’s shoulders.

[Ganymede]

The guy looked happy. Absurdly happy. Eron gave him a smile that was more of a wince - maybe he shouldn't have trusted this guy, after all - and leaned forward to read his newest note; thankfully, they were getting more and more legible the more he looked.

You’re easily recognisable. The hair.

Frowning, Eron grabbed a lock of his not-quite-dry hair and held it in front of his face. Ever since his first public appearance he'd kept it at roughly the same length and dyed it frequently. His bangs were always partially obscuring his eyes, and the back was styled in a slightly spiky way. As soon as he'd gone on the run he'd never really thought about it. He guessed changing just his clothes wouldn't be enough if Damain really stepped up the search.

Speaking of clothes, he was still wearing his mud-splattered polo. Grimacing he stood up and pushed his hair out of his face, trying to imagine what it would be like to have shorter hair. He knew he did, but that was back in the once-upon-a-time era when Elia had been there. The more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea - after all, Damian was looking for the spoiled rock star he'd raised, not the shy little boy his wife had once loved.

"Okay," he announced, flashing an actual grin Celino's way. "I don't think they need our help for a while. Let's go upstairs." He couldn't cut his own hair, after all; that'd just be a mess. Besides, Runner looked like he needed some rest. Eron leaned over and gently picked up the shivering ball, holding him as close to his chest as he could without getting mud all over the Pichu. Without waiting for Celino he walked out of the kitchen and into the hallway, almost charging up the stairs to the second floor. His small, spartan room overlooked the greenhouse and incubator, and after a brief glance out the window - nobody was outside, from what he could see - he set Runner down on the bed and pulled the blankets over him.

A wriggling yellow nose poked out from underneath the bed, shortly followed by Shep's grinning muzzle. Eron could tell from the rhythmic thump-thump-thump that his tail was going at superspeed.

"Hey, Shep. I'm getting a haircut."

At this Shep darted out from under the bed and ran round Eron, barking joyously. Quickly shushing the dog, Eron pulled off his muddy polo and laid it across the corner of the room, hoping the mud wouldn't get on the wooden floor. Shep watched him eagerly, looking way too chipper for a Pokemon who'd nearly had his entire right side burned off. The scars were still there; large and ugly, with small patches of fur starting to grow in between them. With a sigh Eron sat down on the bed - taking care not to sit on Runner - and waited for the deaf kid.

[stbyleth]

Celino watched as the other man played with his hair. He still didn’t know why he had to hide out, but he didn’t care to mention. Besides, the man needed his help, so Arceus-damn it, he would help! Maybe he would even become a friend of Cameron… It was a shame he couldn’t hear the music, but if even Cameron let him hang around him and didn’t push him away like others did, he would be grateful.

He perked up when he received an actual smile, and he smiled even wider back. He was confused as to why he was told to go upstairs with the rock star. Then again, he was confused about a lot of things. He, once again, played along with these new ideas that were being presented. He was good at pretending not to be confused – well, actually, he wasn’t really, but that couldn’t stop him from trying. His eyes showed all of his mental disarray, but other than that, he was good. Except for the fact that his face was like a blipping boat on a radar, when the boat was right in front of oneself, revealing much of the emotion as well.

He shoved it aside and grabbed onto his bag, slung it onto the shoulder Pride wasn’t occupying, picked up his almost-dry-now vest, and hurried up the stairs as fast as he could after Eron. He stopped in the doorway and waited for further instruction.

Speaking of Pride, he stared down at the Electrike, running around and showing off the large scars that he sported. The Pichu wasn’t used to seeing such hurtful marks, especially how it made the dog pokémon look ugly as all could be, and he let off a small shudder. He would never be able to win in beauty contests… The poor thing. Pride felt for him. Only not really because it’s Pride and the only thing he cares about his himself and maybe Celino. After all, Celino is who brings his food and brushes him. He puffed his fur, switching his place to the other shoulder.

Celino stood awkwardly in the doorway, looking left and right. He allowed himself some entry and set his own things on the bed – causing Pride to hastily shift back to the shoulder he just left, almost losing balance and falling to the floor – and occupied the space a metre or two in front of Eron. Having grabbed his notebook and pen, he scribbled, What now? and showed it to the other blonde.

This post has been edited by Cavalcade: Feb 7 2011, 09:08 PM

[Ganymede]

Celino paused int he entryway, the Pichu on his shoulder giving the area a disdainful sniff. Shep, ever the outgoing one, ran up to the kid and pawed at his leg, making small, happy-sounding noises. Eron rolled his eyes - years of canid-Pokemon trainers had yet to break Shep's unusual way of greeting people.

At least he's not sniffing his butt.

"Uh, okay." Eron muttered, quickly scanning Celino's notebook. "Well, I can't really cut my own hair - we don't have a mirror..." There was a bathroom at the end of the hallway, but from what he could tell it contained the only indoor toilet on the ranch and thus was a hot commodity. Besides, the mirror looked as though it had been made for tiny-headed giants, having been placed very high up the bathroom wall. Frowning, Eron tried to think. He could ask Mrs Loch, but she was way too chatty and would probably send him to shovel Tauros crap or something. The very though made his eyelid twitch.

After a few minutes of heavy thinking - Celino was staring at him with a large smile on his face the whole time, totally not creepy - Eron finally accepted the fact that there was only one option. Standing up (and sending the now-quiet Shep back into a frenzy) he crossed the room to the wood-hewn vanity and wrenched open the top drawer, rummaging around until he found a small, old-fashioned pair of scissors. It wasn't a league of top-notch hair stylists from Petropolis, but it would have to do. The feeling of dread in his stomach only grew as he turned around.

"Okay, Celino," he said, solemn. "I hope you know how to use these."

☼

"I don't care how many people are on sick leave; bring them all out and FIND HIM." The cell phone snapped in half as it crashed against the floor, joining a sad-looking pile of plastic already on the floor. A nervous maid quickly ran up to Damian Ramirez and held out a silver tray stacked with phones, all very expensive and all about to be destroyed. Over the last two hours she'd watched as her employer had gone from cool and collected to threatening the leader of the corps, all over his missing son. While she admired his dedication, it was starting to disturb her how single-minded he'd become. His eyes - a very light, almost white blue - seemed close to mania as he tore another phone from the pile, flipping it open and pressing the numbers with extreme prejudice. His Persian was curled up in the corner, her ears pressed flat to her head, obviously unsettled.

"Yes? Is this the Gigarte Police? ...No, I will not hold. Transfer me over to your highest authority NOW." Turning, the maid could see that his normally slicked-back platinum hair was beginning to fall out of shape. "What are you still doing here?" he snapped, making the maid snap to attention.

"I, uh-"

"Nevermind. Get out. Leave the phones." Damian turned back to the giant windows overlooking Petropolis, light drops of rain splattering against the glass. "And you are...? Good. Have you found the buses with his technical crew? No? Then, please, tell me why you aren't looking for them!" After a second, he addressed the maid again.

"Go find Terry and send her in."

"Y-yes, sir." The maid hurriedly dropped the tray of phones onto the polished wooden desk and bolted out of the room, nearly in tears. Even in the dark, she could find her way around the neo-modern penthouse fairly well. Turning a few corners led her to the mostly-abandoned half of the penthouse. Terry's quarters were back here, along with the late Elia's rooms and the old records hallway. Her rushed footsteps changing into soft tiptoes, she quietly approached the door to Terry's living room and knocked before slipping inside.

Terry Ingress was sitting on the nook in front of the window, watching as a flash of white vanished into the grey, drizzly day. She turned abruptly, her gaze softening as she saw the maid's bloodshot eyes.

"Oh, dear. Go ahead and have yourself a coffee or some tea, I'll go see if I can talk some sense into that man." She gave the maid a kind smile as she stood, pulling a bathrobe over her plain t-shirt and pants. She was almost out the door when the maid bit her lip and turned.

"Um, Miss Ingress, wha-"

"Just sending a letter, dear. The kettle's on the stove." A strained, weary smile, and Terry was gone, leaving the poor trembling behind.

[stbyleth]

Celino leaned down and pat the pup on his head, smiling widely as the Electrike licked his hand. He couldn't tell if he was being loud or not but that was fine. He giggled softly, not unlike a girl in a way, and stood back up. He waited for the other to contemplate what they were going to do. 

Pride still glared down at Shep, regardless of how fun he may seem to be. Running around like that... Pride had manners, thank you very much! He just shook his head let out a 'humph' sound, though it was quite high pitched and didn't sound all like that because Pride wasn't exactly the manliest Pichu out there. Plus there was the fact that he was a Pichu, so he didn't necessarily have the most baritone voice. He switched shoulders again before hopping off of Celino and onto the floor in front of Shep. He huffed and shoved at the other electric pokemon, effectively shocking both of them. He shook his head, grumpy as all could be.

Celino sighed and crouched down, grabbing up Pride and petting Shep on the head. Poor thing looked like the happiest in the world, even with the scars. Kinda like him. His smile turned into less happy and more sympathetic. It was kinda nice. He idly wondered if the pokemon had friends...

Shep suddenly darted away, shoving Pride accidentally away. The Pichu scrambled away and onto the bed with the other Pichu that wasn't shaking as badly anymore. Celino stood up and blinked, scissors shoved towards him. He took them clumsily, making sure not to hurt himself. Cameron motioned towards his hair. 

... 

Was Celino supposed to cut it?

The Italian blinked again and hesitantly gestured to a chair. He stood behind it once the rock star was seated. He'd never cut hair before and he wasn't exactly sure on how to go about it. Did he just start cutting? Did he start at the top or the bottom? He more or less just shut his eyes and gently clutched at a few locks of Cameron's hair. Opening his eyes once again, he snipped. 

And again, and again, and again. 

At the end of the commotion, Pride was back on Celino's shoulder. The hair was cut well enough; meaning, it would do but it was uneven in some places. He wasn't a beautician after all. He moved to the front of the chair to begin cutting at Cameron's bangs.

The bangs, he cut more carefully and precisely. He signed — forgetting Cameron didn't understand him — for the other to shut his eyes so he wouldn't get stray hair in his eyes. He held his hand above his eyes to catch the falling strands anyway, occasionally throwing it to the side onto the floor. 

When he was finished with that, he took a step back and smiled. 

[Ganymede]

Eron ran a hand through his hair, wincing as sharp little bits cascaded to the floor.

It was short.

Very short.

Well, for a boy who'd been wearing his hair more or less in his face for eight years, it was short. To anyone else it was simply a slightly messy, slightly uneven pile of hair that now sat atop Eron's head. After running his hands through it a few more times, it settled into what could probably be called a behead, if said bed was actually a rock and the person calling it that was mostly blind.

Against all odds, Eron liked it. For one, he could actually see now. Everything was just a little bit brighter, and his forehead and neck were surprisingly cool. He'd always had a very slight spattering of acne on his forehead; while his skincare team went crazy trying to fix it, Terry had snorted and told him to cut his hair and it would go away.

And maybe now, it would.

The smile that broke on Eron's face was one of those rare real ones, which were starting to be a lot less rare now. The teenager in the mirror didn't look a thing like Cameron Ramirez, now - the hair was too short and too drab, the clothes were style-less and slightly damp, the eyes were much too dark a blue and - were those cheekbones?

"I like it," Eron said, feeling almost a little giddy. Shep gave a joy-filled bark, apparently not at all disturbed by Pride's little shove, and bolted out the open door into the hallway, the mad scrabbling of feet right outside the only sign that he hadn't gone down the stairs. Although he probably would in a few minutes, anyway. He hadn't been outside all day, and the rain seemed like it was going to ease up for a bit. With a touch of surprise, Eron realised that he'd been thinking of going for a walk. Willingly! In the rain!

"I think my hair was evil," he muttered to himself, kicking the golden-brown curls on the floor. It would certainly explain why he felt better. Well, marginally better.

Shep barked again.

"Okay. Celino, do you want to go for a walk? I think the rain's letting up." Also I seem to be acting nice, except maybe it's not so much acting anymore. "Shep needs to go, and, uh-"

"Pffchu!"

"-what the hell was that."

The noise happened again, and this time Eron pinpointed the sound coming from his bed. The miserable lump that was Runner seemed to be sniffling and shuddering. Eron's smile vanished.

Celino tapped on his shoulder and held up his notebook, a worried frown on his face. Should we find someone to help him?

"Yeah. Uh, I think Mrs Loch went outside - maybe in the incubator?" A quick glance out the window revealed renewed activity around the new building - large moss-filled pots had been placed along the wall, filled with weird blue eggs covered in black bumps. Two ranch hands were busy digging in the mud in front of the pots, while another laid stones around the hole. A pond? He shrugged and went over to his bag, rummaging around until he found a jacket. The outside was a forest-y green and the inside was grey and slightly fluffy. It was very comfortable and fit well (the hood did fall over his face a bit, though), even if the style was grounded somewhere about ten years ago. At least it was warm.

The teen zipped up the jacket partway and picked up Runner, gently laying the sick Pichu inside his jacket and zipping it up the rest of the way, leaving only his head poking out. He didn't want electric snot all over his jacket, after all. Shep's barks had turned impatient and he poked his nose back into the room, whining urgently. Eron knew that look - he was about to go, regardless of whether or not he was outside.

"Come on!" Eron shouted, grabbing Celino's sleeve and bolting out the room, following the Electrike down the hall.

This post has been edited by Ganymede: Feb 7 2011, 09:23 PM

[stbyleth]

Oh, well! That certainly did the trick. His newly made friend – could Cameron be called that yet? – was smiling, and by the looks of it, he was smiling genuinely. That was a good thing, yes! Maybe, Celino thought, he could break down all of Cameron’s walls and truly become his friend. He held onto that idea, clung to it even, it spreading like wildfire and sticking in his mind like gum on the bottom of a shoe. It circulated and it didn’t fall away like most of his silly ideas about being friends with someone else. It seemed that the friendship with Eron might actually work… He was excited!

He chuckled softly when the other mentioned his hair being evil. It was a silly idea as well, but it certainly lightened the mood of everything. There was less stress than normal now. Shep had run out of the room. Celino wasn’t sure if the dog pokémon had run downstairs or not, but he hadn’t returned, so it could be that he was still in the hallway, just waiting. He assumed it was that and left it.

With thoughts of finally making a long term friend swarming his mind, Celino was just a tad bit confused (he’s been confused a lot lately, though, so it really isn’t anything new) when Eron looked over at his bed, seemingly freezing where he was.

Celino had all but forgotten about the other man’s own Pichu, who was now shivering on the bed and looked like he was sneezing. Pride, still on the bed with Runner, was even worried. That really showed something about the Pichu, considering he wasn’t normally worried about others except Celino. The Pichu touched the other on the ear, being careful not to shock one another, and muttered soothing words in Chu at him. He let go each of the two times Runner sneezed, but he grabbed a hold gently each time afterward.

The Italian quickly scribbled in his notebook and showed it to Eron, tapping on his shoulder to get his attention quickly. Should we find someone to help him?

Eron went on to explain that Mrs. Loch was probably in the incubator. They would have to go get her and see what she could do. Whilst the other peaked outside the window, Celino went to retrieve his jacket, which he was now glad was dry, though a bit stiff from the mud. He shook it and put it back on and before he knew it, he was whisked out of the room by the sleeve, without consent.

Stumbling slightly, Celino blinked. “Ah?” was the only sound he made – or could make – as they stepped outside. He was let go of and he put up his hood, noticing that Pride was climbing up his leg and onto his shoulder already. He shoved his notebook and pen into the back pocket of his pants. Pushing his white hair out of the way, he glanced around. The rain had considerably lightened up, and now it was only a mere drizzle. This was good. Though, the sky still looked like it was about to dump gallons more water onto them at anytime. They didn’t have much time.

Celino followed Eron to the incubator, but he briefly stopped to glance at the strange blue eggs. Well, those were certainly not from around here… As Eron talked with Mrs. Loch, the son of a breeder stared quizzically at the eggs. There were a bunch more in a box ahead. The ranch hands were beginning to put tarp onto the bottom of the pond and fill it up with water, the hole having been dug out to the correct depth and width. After that was done, they placed the eggs in the water.

Huh. New pokémon species? He’d have to ask his father about it later.

He walked into the incubator, standing behind Eron.

[Ganymede]

"It's nothing to worry about, dear!" Mrs Loch exclaimed, once she'd given Runner the once-over and cooed at Eron's haircut. "Just a tiny cold. He'll be better in no time, but try to keep him warm and make sure he drinks lots. Billy!" The sudden shout made the two men jump, Runner sneezing sullenly. The man putting the eggs into the pond froze, looking horribly guilty.

"Put that egg back right where you found it!" Mrs Loch commanded, crossing her arms. Billy sighed and set down the egg he'd been holding, pulling another out from his overall pocket. He sadly set it down, lips pursed. "I know you want one of them, but the safari guys were very specific about the egg count." The woman turned back to the boys, the smile back on her face. "Now, don't you two mind that. I gotta go check on our Miltanks, Bessie's been having some trouble with the milk lately." And with that, she was gone, humming as her swampers squelched in the mud.

Runner sneezed again. Pride let out a small chu.

"Hey," a voice said.

Standing fairly close to Celino was Billy, still red-faced. He was very tall and very muscular and didn't look all that bright. Eron's eyelid twitched again. "Ya shouldn't be bringin' that little guy out here, in tha rain." He glanced around furtively, and gestured for the two to follow him inside the incubator. Eron glanced over his shoulder at Shep, who was frolicking rather happily, completely unmindful of the mud currently soaking his fur. And getting in his mouth.

"I'm gonna have to wash him, aren't I," Eron muttered, dread filling his stomach at the idea.

"Wha?"

"Uh, nothing. Billy. Er," Eron said, pausing to flip his hood down. His hair stuck up in every direction and, annoyed, he tried to flatten it with his hand. It didn't work. He sighed and walked back towards the generator and the black-and-white eggs, taking a look at the others he passed. Pink ones with a tan centre. A very strange looking one that was all jagged pinks and greens. A downy white one with a blue heart-shape in the middle. Three kinds seemed to have the place of honour, sitting in a thick nest of sawdust - one that was mostly green with yellow stripes, a plain blue one with a seashell of all things on it, and one that was a mix of brown, yellow, and orange. He'd never seen any Pokemon that had ever looked like these, and briefly wondered where the eggs came from.

Billy meandered over, leaving Celino to peer over a series of black eggs that, inexplicably, had little white bows on them. "Okay, put your 'chu over by that there generator. Helps ride out the cold, y'know."

Frowning, Eron reached into his jacket and pulled out the Pichu, all runny eyes and nose. He wriggled half-heartedly as the boy laid him next to the generator, curling up next to the humming machine with a sigh. Billy tsked disapprovingly.

"Ya ain't had him long, have ya?"

"Huh? Uh, no. Since I was uh, thirteen." Had it really only been four years? He'd been with Shep much longer than Runner, and yet the electric mouse was closer to him than the dog. Probably because Shep had all of three brain cells.

"Well, shure ain't look it," Billy grumbled, leaning against the side of the egg boxes. Eron hoped it wouldn't break. "Y'see, proper 'lectric owners know when their Pokemon start gettin' sick. Keep 'em in their ball to keep 'em from getting th' others sick too." He cast a knowing eye out the door, where Shep was rolling around the greenhouse floor, tongue lolling. "Though in that case, 'm not too worried," he muttered. "Anyway, yer 'posed to put 'em by something 'lectric when they get sick. A toaster, a generator, one of them teevee things. Helps 'em."

His finger tapped against one of the black-and-white eggs. Eron's eye twitched yet again. I'm gonna have to get that checked out.

"Seems t' me," Billy said, raising himself to his full height (well over 6 feet, Eron thought). "Seems t' me, ya need to have th' chance to raise one proper-like. I 'lready counted these here eggs, an' there's four overmuch. The Mrs was gonna send 'em back, but I think she won't mind too much." He tapped the largest egg with a smile. "Now, this one's too big fer that Safari thing's regulations. Prolly gonna be a doozy when it hatches. Perfect fer a 'ginner!"

"Uh, what kind of logic is that?"

"Now, these here have a bad temper. Gotta treat 'em right, raise 'em well. Make 'em nicer. Break 'em in."

"Are you listening to me?"

Runner sneezed again.

Before Billy could go on again, Eron made a lunge for the egg and picked it up. It was deceptively light for its size and the boy nearly fell over. He was glad there weren't any paparazzi to catch that. Although he bet his hair would be a hotter topic than his coordination, or lack thereof. Billy beamed at him.

"There ya go. Take good care of 'im!" With that, he did and abrupt about-face and smiled at Celino, who was poking at a plain tan egg.

"Wait! What the hell is this, anyway?"

Billy's smile turned into a grin. "A Blitzle," he said, and walked away.

"...A Blitzle. Because that tells me so much." Eron muttered, glaring at the man's back. Shep barked at him and padded into the building, giving the air an experimental sniff. Eron frowned at him.

"You didn't have to go, did you?"

Shep barked, wagged his tail, and walked back outside. Eron rolled his eyes.

"Celino," he said. The other didn't move, staring intently at the tan eggs. "Celino! Celin- oh, right." Eron walked over to him and tapped his shoulder. "Uh, what do we do now? I don't think I'm supposed to move Runner for a while."

[stbyleth]

The man was caught red handed, aha! Celino was never fond of those that stole eggs, especially when the thief seemed as dim-witted as this one. Back when Blue was still just an egg, a man tried to steal from the Molenaro's farm. Fortunately, it is safe to say that that man is no longer allowed within two hundred metres of the ranch, and if caught, a high price will be paid. The small man let a small smile shine as the thief put the eggs back, glad that Mrs. Loch could stop him. 

Having not heard Billy, Celino just followed Eron inside the incubator, content with being in a warmer climate. Though he was used to cold climates, he didn't much fancy them. The incubator was huge, larger than his family's, and so many eggs were housed in it. It was marvellous. Eyes sparkling, the Italian pranced over to a set of said eggs. They were all new! He really just wanted to bundle them all up and take them home to show his father. How proud he'd be! 

He left Eron to talk with Billy, and Pride curled up next to Runner, who sneezed again. Gazing at the collection of colourful eggs, he grinned stupidly. There were black eggs with little white bows sitting on them. He reached out and touched one of the bows, and to his surprise, they didn't come off. It was as if the eggs were popped out with the bows on. Strange. He moved on. This bunch was peculiar if only for the fact they were so god damned small! He picked one up — fit in the palm of his hand! They were covered in a soft fuzz too. Huh!

He jumped, pivoting when he felt a tap on his shoulder. Like a kid getting caught taking a cookie from the jar, he froze and set the mini-eggs down before the perpetrator could spot him with them. It seemed to be the same man that had caught him in the greenhouse earlier. He grinned and handed Celino a bright green and yellow egg. It was different than the one that was held in high regard at the other end. After Celino managed to hold the egg steady, a paper was shoved into his hand as well. The man walked off, smiling oddly. 

He blinked. Cradling the green and yellow egg in one arm, he glanced at the paper. Your here friend got an egg — you too! It's called a Sewaddle. Take good care of it! A... Sewaddle? He'll have to look that one up... Never heard of it before. Then again, he probably hadn't heard of most of the species in there. 

Celino glanced over when he was tapped yet again. This time, it was Eron, who was asking what they should do next. Twisting around after the mention of Runner, he saw that their Pichus were huddled together against a machine, Runner shivering still. They weren't supposed to move them, Runner at least, for awhile. Okay then! 

... What now?

He thought for a minute, noticing Eron had a black egg striped with white — or was it a white egg striped with black? — as well. So that's what the note meant, about his friend having an egg. How nice of them! He'd have to repay them somehow later on, after he figured out what they could do next. 

Pride came running over, climbing up onto a shoulder and making the sign for 'food', and as if on cue, the Pichu's stomach rumbled. Celino smiled and paused. Eron didn't know ASL... Fingerspelling? He fingerspelled 'hungry' but wasn't sure if the other understood, so he also made motions of eating, moving his free hand to his mouth. 

[Ganymede]

As Celino's brow furrowed in thought, Eron glanced down. There was a small green-and-yellow egg in his hands, along with a piece of paper. He titled his head to the side, trying to see if he could read what was on it, but Celino shifted when his Pichu jumped on his shoulder, obscuring the writing. Eron shrugged - he'd ask later - and immediately felt a sting in his shoulder.

"Ow," he whined. He'd forgotten about his arm. When was the stupid thing going to heal?

Pride made a complicated gesture to Celino, who smiled and turned to Eron, holding out one of his hands. He made some quick, jerky movements in the air with his finger, getting nothing but a raised brow from the teen. Undaunted, he then started moving his hand back and forth from his mouth to about mid-chest, making exaggerated up-and-down motions with his mouth.

"...Are you having a heart attack?"

Celino sighed and tugged at the sleeve of Eron's jacket, bringing face-to-face with the disgruntled Pichu on the older man's shoulder. There was a slight rumbling noise coming from the Pichu...

"Oh, you're hungry." Eron pulled back and shook his sleeve gingerly, hoping Celino would let go soon. Things would be a hell of a lot easier if you weren't deaf, Eron thought. A few seconds later he smacked himself in the forehead.

Why does being nice have to hurt so much?

Soon enough, the two men and their Pokemon were back in Eron's room at the ranch house. The teen was angrily shoving the remains of a thick stew into his mouth, grumbling to himself. It was too messy, too brown, way too filling, and way too good to be good for him. He imagined himself a few months down the line, fat as a Snorlax and covered in food stains. The very picture made him shudder and he would have set the bowl down, if his body had been finished with it. Instead, he scraped the last bits of broth, carrots, and potatoes out of the bowl and slurped them down, slamming the bowl onto his nightstand with extreme prejudice.

"That," he said, his face deadly serious. "Was probably the best thing I've ever eaten. I hate it." No wonder all the fashion models nibbled on salads and granola. That stuff was tasteless - no way you could ever get above size 0.

From the floor, Shep whined and nosed his bowl sadly, licking the last traces of stew from the edge. Eron glanced at the drops of broth he'd missed and quickly set the bowl before the canine, deliberately looking outside the window. It had begun to rain again, drenching the world in a miserable curtain of grey. Almost out of view, hidden by clouds and mist, a huge, vague shape rose from the ground and into the sky. He gazed at it, mind wandering.

"I should have stayed in the bus." The benefits of being around a deaf person, Eron thought, was that you could talk to yourself and they wouldn't judge you. "At least, I shouldn't have walked away from it."

So, why did he?

The stew reminded him of what Elia used to make. His stomach fluttered, unsettled.

I was frustrated and I was on the phone. And? You should have noticed how the ground was changing from paved asphalt to cracked stone.

I was tired and not thinking straight. Why didn't you turn around when you found out you were lost? You were walking in a straight line.

I... Eron bit his lip, eyes narrowing. Why hadn't he turned around? Shep would have smelled the bus, would have taken him back before they left...

"Did- Am I remembering this right?" He frowned. Shep whined again, head tilted to the side. Eron turned from the window and glanced at Celino. A few moments passed, the only noise coming from the plaintive call of Miltank out in the fields.

"Oh, fuck this," Eron snapped, suddenly irritated. He aimed a kick at the bowls on the floor, catching his foot before it connected. He hastily picked up the plastic bowls and tossed them on the nightstand, pausing to glare at the egg on his bed.

"What are you looking at," he asked, sullen. Shep let out a nervous bark and stood, giving Eron a worried look before padding out the room and down the hallway. The ex-rock star listened to the clacking of his nails on the stairs, still glaring at the egg. Probably going to beg for more stew. With a long sigh, the blond-haired teen sat on the bed and leaned back, closing his eyes.

He didn't want to think for a while.

☼

"I'll make this brief. A news crew will be here soon and I need the office cleaned."

Sure do. There were cell phone fragments all over the floor, and the desk had some scratches in the highly-polished surface that she didn't remember seeing before. Damian's Persian was nothing more than a large cream-coloured lump in the corner, silent and unmoving. Terry frowned - the feline was obviously stressed out. The Persian had always been haughty and self-possessed; her fur was sticking up and Terry could almost smell the fear coming from her.

The little fire of rage in her grew brighter.

"You've talked to that shrink friend of yours in Arasam, correct?"

"Lenore. The psychologist. Yes."

"Mm. Whatever her name was. Did she tell you anything about Cameron? Why he would run away?"

She told me that he's lucky to have gotten away this early. And as for why he ran... Terry glanced down at his hand. There was a smear of red on his palm. One of the phone shards on the desk, near the scratches, had a slight liquid sheen to it.

...you can't even see the problem anymore.

"She said that she'll need to talk to him in-person before making any conclusive statements," Terry said, her voice clipped. Her eyes were drawn once again to the piece of plastic on the desk. "Don't worry, Damian. We've got half of Furoh out there, looking for him. We'll bring him home within the week."

"I'm expecting you to." Damian had turned towards the window, his silhouette thin and imposing against the lights of Petropolis. Terry sighed, assuming she was excused. As she took a step backwards the Persian uncurled herself and streaked across the room, slipping out the door with barely a whisper. The woman turned, ready to follow the feline's retreat.

"Oh, and Terry?"

She froze.

"...Yes?"

"How is your court case coming?" There was a hint of a smile in that voice.

"...It was going well, until all the lawyers in Petropolis suddenly refused to take it," she said, her voice growing cold.

"I see. You may leave now."

Long after his sister-in-law had left, Damian stood still by the window, his gaze not quite on the city. His hand tingled from the cuts; those would fade. So would the ones that stupid boy would get, once they'd dragged him back here. First he'd taken Elia, and now he had escaped. But Damian could wait, just a little longer.

In a long-ago place, there was a woman and a boy he had loved. They turned, and waved.

[stbyleth]

He rolled his eyes. This was so difficult and it needed to not be so difficult. Celino was certainly not having a heart attack, don’t know where he would get that idea. It was perfectly acceptable motions that he was making; it was pidgin – contact signing – rather than ASL, rather than signed English. It was like what he used at home, but it was obviously not working. He tugged at the other’s sleeve and pulled him closer, letting him listen to Pride’s hungry stomach rumble again, louder than an avalanche running down a high mountain back in Sinnoh. Once Eron confirmed that he did, in fact, now know what he was talking about, the Italian let go and Pride hmph’d.

Celino turned around, Pride glanced at Runner for the last time, and they left. After a few jealous glances from the other ranch hands – why were they so special that they got eggs? – and a quick kiss on the cheek from Mrs. Loch, they were on their way upstairs, Pride’s mouth basically watering at the luscious scent of the stew. Once they were back in the room, the hungry Pichu was on the table, bowl in his hands. Celino stared, wondering when the small mouse stole it. He huffed and sat down, stealing the bowl back and replacing it with the other’s Pokémon food. With the other quite grumpy with having his stolen food stolen back, Celino sat down and began eating the stew himself.

Eron was finished way before him, but that didn’t bother him. He continued eating as Eron threw a fit over something – the stew? – and watched him quietly, silently eating. Shep ran out of the room, and Eron yelled at the egg before falling back onto the bed, shutting his eyes.

He set the empty bowl on the table and Pride snatched it up, licking what his master had left behind. Celino shook his head disapprovingly – the Pichu would become fat soon enough, become a fat Pikachu and become a fat Raichu, by the looks of it.

Celino stood up and walked over to the bed. His own egg was on the bed next to Eron’s and he pat it gently, lovingly. This was the second egg he had had, and he would love it just as much as he loved Blue’s egg. This would be great.

The whole house shook, and Celino quickly grabbed at both the eggs. His face contorted in shock, wondering what was going on. Pride was on the floor, bowl on his head. Shep ran back into the room and onto the bed, presumably growling.

What was going on!

Celino stood again, holding Eron’s egg protectively. Pride had managed to get the bowl off of his head and he skittered back onto the table, looking around. The other boy glanced at Eron, mouthing some words and asking him what was happening, why the house –

It shook again and Celino let out a small yelp, struggling to keep his balance; Pride fell off the table again, doing a barrel roll and landing flat on his stomach. Celino handed Eron's egg to him before he called Pride back and sent out his Riolu again. Blue looked around and assessed the situation. What was going on? The Pokémon had his answer when another shock ran through the old farmhouse. Was it an earthquake? Could earthquakes even hit here?

Blue looked at his trainer and made sure that he was fine, which he was besides being a bit shaken up. That would soon pass. Looking beyond Celino, Blue found that the incubator was certainly smoking. This was, even though he didn't know that incubators held eggs or that the building was an incubator in the first place, quite odd. He pointed and Celino gasped. The boy grabbed Eron's hand before being led off by Blue too.

dat shaking is all explosions in the incubator.

This post has been edited by Cavalcade: Feb 11 2011, 04:43 PM

[Ganymede]

Eron felt a weight dip the bed and opened an eye quizzically. It was Celino, patting his egg with an expression of great love on his face. The boy's first thought was to berate the deaf man - after all, it was just an egg, it wasn't like it could understand you - but changed his mind. He was trying to make friends, after all. He sat up, favouring his arm slightly, and poked his egg. It rolled a little to the left, tapping Celino's egg.

And then the first shockwave hit.

Eron yelled as he lost balance and fell back onto the bed, thankfully on his uninjured side. A mass of green was suddenly occupying his chest, barking wildly and tugging at his sleeve urgently. Pushing the Electrike off of him, Eron stood unsteadily and looked around. The room seemed fine, if a bit messier than it had been a few minutes ago. Celino was still on the bed, both eggs held protectively in his arms. Eyes wide with shock, he mouthed what's going on?

"I don't know," Eron said, nervously. "An earthquake? Maybe agak!" His words swallowed by an undignified screech, Eron found himself face-to-floor as another tremor shook the building. He could hear voices outside, now; all screams and shouts. There was a continuous low sound he assumed the Miltank were making; he pulled himself up to the window and gasped.

Ranch hands were sprinting across the grounds towards the incubator, which was nearly covered by a thick cloud of smoke, completely unhindered by the rain. A wave of pure, sheer panic ran through Eron as his sleeve was roughly grabbed, yanking him into the hallway as Shep ran ahead, yelping and sparking in worry.

The eggs.

Runner.

"No," Eron gasped, tearing free of Celino's grip. He burst out of the farmhouse, Shep streaking in front of him like a living firework, the sparks in his fur snapping at the drops of rain. A small pack of Growlithe, most likely belonging to the ranch, were already at the incubator, grabbing eggs in their jaws and sprinting away as their owners did the same. The area was pure chaos, with people, Pokemon, and eggs all clouded by the smoke still bellowing from within the building. It was now that Eron saw the hole in the roof, long wooden beams splintered and hanging down into the incubator. Shep ran in ahead, ducking underneath a fallen beam and growling deep in his throat. Without hesitation Eron darted in after him, nearly tripping over the wood.

He'd been in fiery situations before, usually as a result of his aunt's fire-happy Togekiss, but those were small and easily quenched. This fire was different - heavy and choking, driving Eron to the floor. Pausing to brush soot from his hair, he looked around. Strange men wearing black face masks were carelessly shoving eggs into large bags, Poocyena and Houndour on the watch. Eron's eyes began to water, both from the fire, and what he saw at the end of the building.

The generator was the source of the fire, a mad blotch of red and yellow, pouring thick black smoke into the building. Eron coughed and backed out of the incubator, a quit sort of numbness filling his chest. Runner and the Blitzle eggs had been right next to the generator. There had been nothing but burning sawdust next to it.

He held back a sob.

The sound of frenzied barking came from within and he looked back inside. Shep was on top of one of the Houndours, snarling as he repeatedly shocked the other canine. The Houndour howled, shaking itself furiously as it tried to get the electric-type off of it.

"Leer!" Eron shouted, trying to remember everything Tag had taught him. Then use Thunder Wave of the Poochyena!"

Shep barked an affirmative, leaping off the worse-for-wear hound and turning to face his new opponent. He was already looking tired - the grand battle back in Lenolia had been a few days ago, but he'd walked beside the trio the whole way from there to Loch ranch and had been moving nonstop since.

A pang hit Eron as he thought of Runner. No back-up now, unless he started throwing punches at the strange guys (although that seemed more like Raven's style). Then he remembered Celino, and turned around, blinking the smoke from his eyes as he looked for the other man.

Please, hurry!

[stbyleth]

In a great blur of green and brown and yellow, Eron was gone, and Celino fell back against the wall. The momentum of the other breaking free had caused him to fall slightly, thanking Arceus that the wall was there to break his fall, albeit it was a very hard cushion. He steadied himself once more and decided against taking the eggs. He ran back inside Eron's room, released Cut, set the eggs on the bed and surrounded them with what little, dull pillows and the thin blanket there was. The Nincada looked at his trainer quizzically, but Celino signed 'PROTECT' and pointed to the eggs. Cut nodded and sat next to the eggs, obeying quietly. 

Celino put up his hood, and he ran out again. Blue was waiting for him on the porch, and in long, urgent strides, they crossed to the incubator. Coughing, the man stopped at the entrance and observed more. Flames ate up the wood, hungry for more. What could it engulf next? What would be ruined next? Farm hands ran every which way, and other farm hands ran out from the fray, throwing black masks off as they went. They weren't ski masks but — gas masks?

Fire licked out at the man, and letting out a yelp, he stepped back, covering his mouth with his arm. The smoke was getting darker, thicker. Where was Eron? Inside! Runner was inside! 

He glanced down at Blue, who was staring intensely into the fire, into the building, itching to go in, itching to save someone, something, regardless of who or what it was. A small tremor shook the ground again, not as large as before but enough that it confirmed Celino's suspicions something was set on fire within the building. He decided: Go in for Eron and Runner and save as many eggs as possible, put the fires out quickly, do everything you can. 

It'd be better to communicate outside of the fire, and soon, Pride stood with wide eyes before the flames. He began running back and forth in front, just out of the flames' reaches, calling out "Pi"s. He was conceited but damn! Not that much! Celino crouched down and grabbed him by the tail to tug him over. Blue waited for instructions patiently and Pride wiggled, attempting to get free and failing. 

Celino sat his Pokémon on the ground. Pointing to Blue, he made small gestures about fighting — counting on his fingers meant Counter, two quick circle motions was Quick Attack, and others Blue understood he could use at his free will. Pride was fretting more and more with each passing second, so Celino addressed him quickly — not fight, find Runner and friend — friend meaning Eron. Without further directions, Pride took off, darting around others and some beams, tripping on others. He got bruised up quite a bit, but he was on his way. 

Standing up, the deaf man nodded to Blue. They were going to do this and do it right. Pulling up the black collar of his shirt over his mouth and nose, he ran in, Blue in tow. Within seconds, they reached so far that Celino almost ran into Eron. He stopped just in time, and he realised he was glad he couldn't hear the anguishing crackles of the fire. He grabbed at Eron's sleeve, motioning to the back where they had left Runner, but sparks, electricity, flew through the air. It was Shep!

Blue took a few steps forward, ready to take on the Houndour that Shep had started to take down, plus a few others. They all looked relatively cocky, yet they seemed sad. They gave off mixed aura, and Blue shoved that away as he prepared an Endure. 

Celino hugged Eron roughly before pulling away, motioning to the back again. Pride hadn't yet returned and the fire still raged on. His eyes rimmed with water. He didn't do well in harsh situations like this, and he coughed and wiped his eyes and looked around. Blue could take care of the Hondour, right? He could get some eggs out of the fire, safe and sound. 

And that's what he did. Almost without thinking, Celino quickly snatched up a bunch of the tiny, fuzzy eggs in his arms and carried them out. He had a bit of difficulty getting over some newly fallen beams; however, with some manoeuvring that wasn't very slick, he broke free, almost gasping for air. His hood had fallen off and his left arm, he was sure it was burned. He ran over to the pond made earlier and set the small eggs on the bank before he returned inside. 

•••

Pride coughed heavily, eyes squinted. It was getting hard for him to see, hard to breathe. But where was that damned Runner! He ran around the generator, or what was left of it anyway, thrice and found nothing. He shook his head as some ashes fell onto his ears. Pursing his lips, he thought of where he might hide if he was sick...

A small whimpering sound resonated softly from above him. His eyes darted up and a small ball of yellow fuzz with wide eyes peered down from him, near the large hole. There! Pride climbed up an intact for now ladder, slipping multiple times and only falling off the second rung. He was good at climbing things like Celino — but the ladder was made of slippery wood, hot wood. His weight was becoming an issue as well, but he tried not to think of it.

Managing to get up there, he conversed with the sick Pichu before running off towards the front of the building. Celino was carrying the black eggs with white bows out and his comrade was fighting against some dogs. Mangy mutts! he called, Get them, Blue!

Preoccupied, he ran into the façade of the building. The rafters and the top of the building was already weak, already ready to crumble. It did just that, and Pride tumbled out of his sized hole before he could even think of stopping. He landed with a plop!, smacking against the stagnant water of the pond. 

•••

Blue grunted. These Pokémon were stronger than him by a few levels. There were three of them. This was not good, he could tell. He winced as an ember attached itself to his leg before he shook it off. More Endures, he would keep up. He would win this, if that's what Celino wanted. 

One more Quick Attack, another Counter, keep going, keep going. 

•••

Celino jumped when there was a splash in the water. He had been placing his next batch of eggs near the pond and the water flew up on him, wetting his hot face. He was surprised, but relieved, when some sparks flew from the water. Grabbing Pride, he hugged him close, getting shocked himself. He asked about Runner; Pride pointed up. 

At the edge of the hole, from the rafters, peered another Pichu. Celino held out his hands, and Runner hesitated. Jumped. Safe! Celino hugged him and set him down next to the eggs. He instructed Pride not to follow him, and he darted back in. Pride shook excess water off of his fur. 

Celino glanced around as he got back to his original place. Blue — Where was Blue?! He found himself near Eron again; there was his Riolu, too, obediently carrying out his commands. 

He struggled. He always did. This was a life or death situation, and the coughing didn't help. But he did it — he spoke. He knew little words, little more than the commands and Pokémon names. His voice was strained, as if he hadn't used it ever, which was partially true. He couldn't hear himself — only feel the syllables leave his teeth and lips. It was hard to speak, and his voice was warbled too. 

"Blue!" he screamed. "Blue! Qu-Quick Att-tack!" He mentally cursed himself for stuttering — he would have to work on that later. For now, focus on getting out safe. The Riolu turned toward him. He pointed at the strongest Houndour and did the sign for the same attack he had spoken. His throat hurt already. 

Blue nodded, turned, and aimed. Quick Attack, hit, hit it, hit it, faster.