Welcome to Gaia! ::

▉▉▉▉▉▉▉▉▉▉▉▉ ☆ ★ ☆ JOSEPH

"This morning, shortly after 10am, a small battalion of the Alpha's army was dispatched to an illegal, offshore boat. We had knowledge that a number of rebels had kidnapped a civilian and were threatening her murder unless our Lord and Protector, Sinister Grey, handed himself over to their mercy. Negotiations broke down rapidly, as the rebels began to demand more ludicrous threats and the men of our Army learnt of the young civilian's torture and execution.

"When the battalion attempted to board the boat to arrest those on board for the young girl's murder, the rebels made an extreme move. A series of suicidal explosions were set off, killing all but one OMEGA Sargent. By the grace of the Alpha, he lives, though he remains in a critical condition in hospital after loosing both his legs.

"Whilst we believe their move resulted in the death of a large portion of rebels, some have still eluded arrest with their illegal use of enslaved Pokemon.

"I would like to remind our citizens at large that these rebels are highly dangerous and will not think twice about causing harm to you and your families. Be aware and constantly vigilant, especially if you live in coastal towns and villages. Do not leave your homes after curfew and if you see anyone acting suspiciously or believe anyone to be in contact with these rebels, do not hesitate to inform the head of your local Parish.

"Once again, I would like to stress that these rebels are dangerous and should not be approached by civilians. Praise be to the Alpha and our Lord Protector Grey."

☆ ★ ☆ Steven

There were bird calls come in from the open window, along with a nice breeze. Or were those Pokémon calls? Whatever it was, Steven knew that it was a Pokémon outside the window. Two of them, two of his: a brightly feathered bird and a dark blue metal… Pokémon. He touched his head, feeling the bandage that had been wrapped tightly there. His mind was hazy, but he could tell one thing. “You shouldn’t be here,” he said quietly. “If they catch you, we’ll be in trouble.”

Still, the Archen hopped onto the window sill, giving a soft caw. The Metagross hummed. Fleeting thoughts seemed to come, vague: no pain, lost.

The sunlight suddenly seemed bright; Steven cringed. “I don’t think you should use telepathy on me. What’s going on? Why’re we here?”

“Huuu,” the Metagross replied. He wanted to help Steven, but as he was, he couldn’t receive telepathy at all. Normally, he could use vague thoughts to communicate that way to humans he knew well. But anything other than the lightly glance he had just tried might do more damage.

Glancing around, Steven spotted a notepad and a pencil. He took them and noted the header: Oceanview Hospital, Olivine City, Johto. Johto? He wasn’t supposed to be here. But, where was he supposed to be?

A large ship, he’d given his room over to that girl, had to move here, explosions, his head throbbing, Wallace was saying something, ocean… ocean ocean ocean, as far as he could see, the Pokémon seeming puzzled but going along with it, some pale girl…

Omega troops searching him and talking sharply but his head just hurt so much but they never found his Pokémon where were his Pokémon they hadn’t been there and that girl said that he was her fiancé and he’d slipped on some rocks, wait that couldn’t be right, where were his Pokémon?

Blinking, Steven looked out the window and back into the face of his Archen. “Kurruu?” she asked, tilting her head at him.

“We were fighting,” he started to say, squinting and trying to see through his own thoughts. “I should contact them. Er…”he turned to the paper and started to write. Who was he supposed to be writing to? He remembered talking to Wallace. Steven struggled through the letter, writing shakily and having trouble keeping track of his own thoughts. But they should hear from him.

Dear Wallace: I don’t think I’m in Omega’s custody, but I don’t think I’m where I should be. Fishing’s no good when the catch explodes. I went across the ocean and I seem to be in a hospital; got wires in my arm, at any rate. I might be okay when my head clears. Did you know that I was engaged? I didn’t know that. I should write better when I know better why my head hurts. Did I borrow your fishing pole or something? I’ll return it later. From Steven.

Looking at it blearily, he didn’t think it was a good message. He folded it up and was going to rip it up and toss it. But then footsteps sounded from past the curtain, outside the room he was in. He passed the folded letter to the Archen. “Get that to Wallace, quickly. Be careful.”

The Archen took the letter, puzzled. She couldn’t really fly, only glide. But the Metagross pulled away from the window and headed off to where the other Pokémon were hiding, outside of town. After some discussion among them, the Skarmory took the folded paper and headed out to the Sevii Islands, in search of Wallace.

Back in the hospital, a nurse had come in to check on Steven. “You shouldn’t be writing, Sam,” he said. “Are you alert?”

Sam? “I guess,” he said. “What’s going on?”

“You suffered a concussion when you hit your head on some rocks in the Whirlwind Islands,” he said. “You’ve been sedated for nearly a week while we’ve been giving you treatments. Most of the damage has been repaired, but you still shouldn’t have too much mental stimulation until your last treatment goes through.”

“Okay,” he said. “When’s that?”

“In a few minutes; I came to take you there.” The nurse put a clipboard down and started taking him off the monitoring machines. “You’ll be good to go in a few hours if you pass the cognitive tests.”

Steven nodded a little. Don’t get caught; you’ll be in trouble with Omega. He glanced over and saw the name ‘Sam Goodwin’ on the patient form. Now if he could just focus his mind enough to keep that name held, he might come out of this okay.

▉▉▉▉▉▉▉▉▉▉▉▉▉▉▉▉▉▉▉▉▉▉▉▉ ☆ ★ ☆ BALLADE

This was a conspiracy. She was sure of it. At first she'd thought she was going crazy or sleepwalking--which would have also involved being crazy, considering where she was ending up--but now she was convinced. Some set of someones--and Ballade was fairly sure of at least several--was conspiring against her, because without fail when she fell asleep, she was in the garden, and when she woke up, she was in that creepy little room with the creepy little not-actually-curtaining-anything curtains that matched the creepy little way-too-soft bed and it was driving her nuts!

Okay, so she'd slept there mostly intentionally that first time. But it was still raining and she'd lost her tent and after everything with the boats and the dragons and the bleeding people and that broadcast and then finally getting to clean up and having what she considered a well-deserved minor breakdown in the shower, she was really only interested in barricading herself away in some place with a clean blanket. She hadn't even noticed the curtains until she'd woken up.

Creepy useless curtains.

But then apparently being there once that suggested that she actually intended to always sleep in that room. Which she totally didn't. Even ignore the curtains--if you could--the bed was somehow twice as smooshy as the one in her cabin on the Ambition. She half expected it to swallow her while she slept. How exactly Wallace--since that seemed to be Swimming-Guy's name--had managed that, when the bunks didn't look any different, she had no idea, but the experience was completely disconcerting.

The garden was the obvious solution. She'd spent most of that next day there, between checking up on people. Preparing the soil, carefully planting her seed collection. Since they'd been thawed and left in the rain, there was no telling how long the seeds would remain potent, and she couldn't afford to wait until they reached the islands--assuming they ever did--to plant them. Everything went in, with the best fertilizer and mulch substitutes she could find to induce a rushed growth cycle to replenish her supply. And after all that, sleeping in the the garden made sense! She was used to sleeping outdoors, on something firm, and she wanted to keep an eye on the berry plants as they grew. It meant she could keep all her pokemon out with her, too: something she couldn't ever have managed in that little room.

So she intentionally fell asleep out there, with a nice warm set of blankets and a cozy Rapidash nearby, and then she woke up in that creepy little curtained room.

She could see sleeping through . . . whatever was happening that first time. Even if she was usually a fairly light sleeper, she'd been pretty well exhausted again, and had had every intention to sleep like a rock somewhere out where rocks would actually sleep. It was all the other nights that convinced her this was a group effort. To think that she wouldn't wake up or find any footprints or anything, and that none of her pokemon would see a single thing . . . Not to mention all her dreams involved Cottonee, which was a sure sign they weren't normal. She only ever dreamed about Cottonee when she'd asked Pooka or Tengu to Hypnosis her out so she could get her sleep schedule back on track.

And of course Nixie kept getting a little smirk whenever Ballade brought it up. It was bad enough that Nixie seemed to have adopted Wallace. Total betrayal.

It was a relief to finally hear that they finally were reaching the Islands. She'd just about worked up to making a scene in the mess hall just to find out who her midnight kidnapper was. If this went on any longer she was probably going to set those stupid curtains on fire, and then no one would be happy. But she'd waited to get onto solid ground for this long--something earth-bound, natural, not man-made! She could wait a little longer. A little.

When the shapes first appeared on the horizon, Ballade found herself pressed against the railing, watching the form resolve itself as it grew larger. She really wanted to be up in the air on Tengu--part to get there faster than this hulk of a ship, part in case that idiot Lance did actually pass out and fall like she'd told him he would. And that barrier. It was some sort of impressive. Actually pretty breathtaking, and she had every intention of visiting and investigating the pokemon who maintained it--later. For now, she couldn't get past it fast enough. Floe Island looming past it, bright and green and solid: that was what she'd needed to see. A real, natural place full of almost normal, and still plenty of places to hide away. A little breath of safe and a small bit of before.

The gangplank came down with a satisfying clang. She could feel it rumble through the handrail and the soles of her boots. Finally. "If anyone," she announced to the deck, "thinks I'm gonna sleep in a bed tonight, I will punch 'em in the face!"

☆ ★ ☆ Cynthia

The building was the Kimono Girls Dance Hall. Although it was still known by that name, most people didn’t speak of it that way. Instead, they called it the Sanctum; Cynthia always felt that was an overly formal name. The other option was calling it an Omega Church and there was already one of those in Ecruteak. Of course, she wasn’t going by her true name either.

A priest from the church was meeting with her, along with two Omega foot soldiers, both of whom were with two Pokemon. The Pokemon weren’t out, but the threat was there, if they should try any funny business. Silently asking the girl serving to pour him another cup of tea, the priest said to her, “Now, Matron Siki, your adherence to the laws of the faith, and that of your girls, has been unusual.”

Kneeling on the floor with them at the table, Cynthia was there under the make-up of Siki: pale face powder, a large black wig, a traditional orange and black kimono, a closed fan in her hand, and utterly calm and composed. “We must meet a medium between our service to the great Arceus, as well as Ho-oh and Lugia. We agreed to these terms with your church at the start.”

“Yes, although I wonder if it’s only cosmetic, the obvious things.” He glanced around. She knew what he meant; shortly after Omega had taken over Johto, the Kimono Girls had been forced to shut down their Dance Hall, as girls (especially the young ones that often joined) dancing publicly was seen as a horrible thing. Never mind that it was a matter of tradition and not sexuality.

But as that was one of their best sources of income, Cynthia had started up a traditional tea house in its place. “We would never dishonor the legendary Pokemon,” she stated. And that was, true, to an extent. But not to the extent Omega was taking it. “And we are still valuable to the community, you know that.”

And the priest must have hated that, although he simply nodded with a flat face. “Of course. But there has been a new order from our leader, who says women and girls are not to dress provocatively.”

Was that the point of requesting this meeting? Cynthia tapped her fan to her chin and gave an innocent look. “Oh? Do we provoke unclean feelings with you?” Then a quick sharp glance at the other Kimono Girl sitting at the table; Leah was starting to crack a smile and a laugh, but clamped down on it seeing Cynthia’s look.

Fortunately, the three men at the table had gotten too embarrassed at the question to notice the gesture. Even if they did see them that way, admitting it in front of the others was a surefire way to get backlash from the Omega organization. “No, no, we’re quite in control of our emotions,” the priest said, a little too fast to be the full truth. “I was simply concerned that maybe…” he tried to word it right.

“Our traditional dress code was made to downplay such things, so it is of no concern,” Cynthia said. “The dancing was too distracting, we see that now, but there should be no problem with the way we dress.” And if they were forced out of the traditional attire, there went anonymity. Still, it was one more sign that she needed to get the girls out of here before they were made examples of, like Giovanni.

“It is still something to consider,” the priest said, having gotten his composure back. “And I have heard that there was some fuss over in Olivine about one of your girls claiming to be engaged.”

That had been quite a knot to undo, but Cynthia was certain that was settled down by now. There was simply the question of what to do next. She sighed. “It was the foolishness of youth, letting her emotions get the better of her thoughts. Once she gets back, I intend on having a long talk with her about it, especially on keeping secrets from the group. I’m sure you remember being impulsive as a teenager in love.”

“There is that,” he agreed, shifting his position. “The timing of it was suspicious, though. I’ve heard rumors from the Olivine priest that the man may have been a rebel trying to escape justice.”

While that was of concern to her, Cynthia kept a straight face. “I heard from her that he doesn’t remember anything. Perhaps it was a matter of justice from higher powers.” She then smiled. If he was going to try getting the Kimono Girls in trouble, then as the Matron and leader, it was her duty to keep them out. “How are your plans going for finishing up your church? We could offer some assistance, at least as some extra hands to do work.”

▉▉▉▉▉▉▉▉▉▉▉▉▉▉▉▉▉▉▉▉▉▉▉▉ ☆ ★ ☆ Steven

It was the first time after he’d come out of sedation that Steven had been allowed to have visitors. There was only one, though, the girl who had rescued him. And she was a girl, not even half his age at 16. Thankfully, it seemed Omega had outlawed marriage and so it had not be hard to convince her and the hospital staff that it wasn’t going through. Although that might be the only positive to such an insane sounding law.

There wasn’t much he could tell about Mia at just this one meeting, though. She wore make-up that obscured her face, giving her the pale countenance that was one of the images he could recall after leaving the ship. With that, she wore an orange and black kimono that fully covered her body from the neck down, as well as a large black wig done up in a style common with geishas. Apparently this was because she was a priestess in a traditional Johto religion, which had been hijacked by Omega much like many other small local religions.

The whole time she was visiting, they were watched closely by the nursing staff. One of them knocked on the doorway to the room. “Excuse me, but Sam has an appointment with the doctor in a few minutes, to discuss if he’s ready to leave the hospital.”

“Okay,” Mia said, looking back at the nurse and making sure that she did walk off after saying that. Then she leaned in closer to him and whispered, “Me and the other Kimono Girls have been taking care of your Pokémon. Most of them are okay, just really worried about you. But the Skarmory took off, apparently because he had a message to deliver.”

Well that was a relief to hear. Steven hoped that Gale wouldn’t run into trouble flying out of here. Then again, Skarmories were native to Johto and he might have been mistaken for a local. “Good, thank you,” he whispered back.

“What was that message about?” she asked, curious.

He sighed. “To be honest, I don’t quite recall. My mind was still fuzzy and I shouldn’t have been writing then. I think I was telling a friend that I was still alive; I hope they’re okay.”

It hadn’t been an easy time here. He had been trying to act like he didn’t remember anything. Since he hadn’t been able to talk with Mia prior to now, it seemed the safest course in a hospital that was clearly supported by Omega (they had posters full of their propaganda everywhere here). But then he kept thinking about those who had been on the Ambition and the Steelstead when everything had gone chaotic. Were the others dead or seriously hurt? Had they gotten back to the protection of Sevii or had they gotten captured? It was distressing, being alone like this without even his Pokémon aside from little visits and sightings.

Despite that, he had to be stoic and pretend not to recall any of it. He had some experience in this. Back in his school days, he had managed to feign enough interest in dull classes to pass with good grades, and being able to maintain a stoic façade was a great assistance in business dealings. But there was a major difference between daydreaming about spelunking during a monotonous and repetitive lecture and faking amnesia when he didn’t know which of his friends and peers were still alive. Steven had managed not to come to tears, but he had felt pretty rotten about having survived that whole mess.

“I hope they let you go,” Mia said, straightening back up as the nurse had come closer again. “I think you should speak with Siki; she might know what to do to help you out better.”

Siki was apparently the leader of the Kimono Girls, someone Mia held in high regard. Since Steven wasn’t sure what to do until Gale got back with another message (or if the psychics managed to get their network up well enough to get in contact with Rusty), talking with her seemed as good a plan as any. He stood up, no longer getting dizzy or light-headed when he did so. “Sure, that might help.”

“Good luck,” Mia said as he headed off with the nurse.

The pale winter sun-disc hung suspended in the rose sky of Route 7, it’s feeble rays funnelled through the branches of gnarled trees. Frosted blades of grass crunched beneath heavy, cumbersome footfalls: the journey from Ecruteak had started nine days ago-- or was it ten? Sleep deprivation and hunger had taken it’s toll on Eusine, until he could no longer establish the difference between clear starlit skies and morning filled with birdsong, his bleary gaze unable to differentiate the sun and moon. His eye caught a Murkrow circling above. First Pokémon he’d seen in a while, he noted.

~

In a darkened room, a four-year-old Morty sat at the small round table, his mother sat to his left, an empty chair to his right. Three empty plates, three spoons, three glasses of MooMoo Milk. Anticipation gripped the household. Then a tall, suited man holding a small frosted birthday cake entered the room, a smile stretched from ear to ear. The smile was contagious, laughter and cheer filled the room. The boy’s mother presented him with a gift. Excitement caught the better of him, and he tore the paper away, piece by piece revealing a Pokéball. Black with a red band around the top and gold trim edging, the glow from the birthday candles reflected in it’s glossy finish.

“That’s a Luxury Ball, Morty. If you catch a Pokémon with that type of ball, it’ll recognise your kindness, your willingness to show affection and respect.” His mother’s smile reflected his own.

“Morty, always remember that a strong trainer doesn’t deal in absolute power. They follow righteousness, have a pure heart and strive to do good for this world.”

The boy pondered his father’s wise words as the man sat himself.

“Happy birthday, son. Now close your eyes, make a wish and blow out the candles!”

He took a breath and… the flames on the candles flared, sparked.

“Spooky, eh Morty?”

The boy smiled, laughed, coughed. Closed his eyes. Coughed again. Eyes open. And again. And again. And the coughing became a deep, whooping, rasping cough. Eyes wide with fear. Both parents were at his side, chairs, cake and candles falling to the floor, panic striken, his father performing the Heimlich maneuver. Raw, Choking. Eyes watering. Foaming at the mouth. His mother’s screams, plates and glasses shattering, splintering, milk splashed across the walls. Flow of Time, slowed. And slowed. To a precise pinpoint. Stop. Morty lay, his arms supporting his torso, with his parents either side. And the look of terror on their faces as they witnessed their son expel a thin phantasmagorical drape from his mouth. Floating in space, unbound by natural forces, forming shape, and detaching from it’s host. Backed into a corner and shielded by both parents, the three gazed at the entity as it formed into a face. Slowly, a Gastly materialised from the void.

~

Three miles along Route 7, Eusine came to a standstill. On the horizon, piercing the empty heavens, stood Castle Pandemonium. The Murkow was back, perched on a tree branch, squawking. He wouldn’t have minded, his trek had been filled with silence, but the cacophony was splitting his mind. He reached for a pebble and hurled it, missed, and the bird flew off.

“Blasted creature.”

He turned back to his path and startled at a Dusknoir floating before him.

“Wha-”

Searing light, then darkness.

Light pinpricked the dark, growing into hazy pools, globules swimming, distorting reality. A broken jigsaw of a monotone face pieced itself together, gaining clarity. Eusine could see his mouth moving, but a dull constant ringing was all he could hear. A hand appeared, offering a glass of water. He took it, but the strain of the glass was too much for him, and the hand took it back. Another dabbed at his mouth with a handkerchief. Then, clanking and rattling, and he felt lifted, his torso upright so he could see more of the room. Two Omega’s either side of him. A small room, with brickwork relatively new and of expert masonry. A desk with a photograph beneath a small windowpane with diagonal iron muntins and wooden frames. A man standing before it with his back turned to the room. A large bookcase filled with religious texts and methods of torture to the left of the window, and a Murkrow in a cage to the right. Three sharp hooks embedded in the wall with two Rattata’s impaled on one of them. He felt vomit rise up his throat but he swallowed it. The roof of his mouth burned, eyes watered.

“Leave us.”

The Omega’s obeyed the command.

“Why did you come here?”

His hearing was back, if a little echoey. But he remained silent. Moments passed.

“You didn’t walk all this way to keep your tongue.”

Eusine hesitated. Could he trust an Omega after all he’d witnessed over the years? They’d conquered most of the known world, brute strength veiled with clerical enlightenment. But this man was correct in his statement. He had pushed his body to the limits, and needed to know if it had all been in vain.

“I heard rumours. They say that Omega managed to find something I’ve been looking for. I wanted to know if the rumours are true.”

Eusine noticed Judge nod slightly.

“Go on.”

“I search for the Pokémon Suicune. When I was a boy, my friend and I, we saw him, by a lake. We were arguing about something, then Suicune came out the water. He stood there, silently watching us. We stopped arguing, but I don’t know if it was because we saw a new Pokémon, or some effect he had on us. I could have sworn he spoke to us. Maybe it was just my imagination…”

Judge caught sight of some activity outside.

“The legend goes that the three are reincarnations of beasts which perished in the blaze that destroyed the old Brass Tower. Suicune represents the rains that fell and quenched the inferno. It would make sense that his presence would be soothing.”

He turned to Eusine. His face was so old, but it wasn’t through natural aging, it couldn’t be. His beard was dark grey around his jaw and under the cheek bones, but his moustache, eyebrows and chin were white. He was going bald but he’d cut his white hair short. The skin under his eyes was heavy, leathery. And his crimson eyes, they had the look of a man who’d given up. Turned his back on humanity and chosen to live amongst the dead stars of cold space, the body a vessel for time to flow through and ravage, yet years of experience were void, nullified in the glass interior.

“The rumour is true.”

Eusine was dumbstruck. Omega couldn’t have found Suicune. Not when he’d spent his life searching for him, abandoning his family, friends, roots, the only thing in his world was Suicune. He lurched forward, arms outstretched, hands grasping, ready to throttle the truth out of this liar who dared to trivialise this revelation. Then he felt heavy, every molecule in his body under attack from intense gravity, his legs shook and buckled and he collapsed. An invisible vice clamped onto his head and it was craned upwards, with Judge towering over him and a Dusknoir floating besides.

~

Arthur was still shaking. He looked down at his hands, soaked in blood. Then the fresh corpse caught his gaze. The blood had stopped gushing out the throat and slowed to a thin trickle, feeding the widening pool. This--man? monster?--had talked him into taking another’s life. Like it was an everyday occurrence, a business transaction. How could one be so laid back after committing murder?

“There’s a place I want you to go to do some research for me. Go with my friends here to the docks at Slateport City. There’s a boat waiting for you, you’ll find food, a change of clothes and a bed. You’ll be heading to Sinnoh, Celestic Town to be precise.”

Gray then lowered his arm from around his shoulders.

“Go and check your Pokémon, Arthur.”

Whoever this Sinister Gray was, he seemed to voice Arthur’s thoughts the moment they were conceived. He turned and crouched over the waterfall, to see Bagon looking up at him with…fear?. Did he know what his trainer had just done? He recalled him back to his ball. Arthur knew he’d lost Bagon, he just didn’t want to admit it. Gray spoke up.

“It’s time to go.”

~

“I’ll cut you a deal, Eusine. I’ll give you Suicune, but you have to do something for me first.”

He couldn’t trust this man. But he had no choice. If he refused, he’d be locked away for working against Omega, then he’d be tried and executed.

“What do you want me to do?”

The notion of co-operating with the Omega sickened him. Judge smiled.

“You will go back to Ecruteak City. Bring the Gym Leader to me.”

Morty? His oldest friend, teacher, who’d always been there for support and wise counsel? Sell him out and sell his own soul in doing so?

“Not a chance. I’d never-”

“You want Suicune? You’ll do this.”

Silence spread over moments, minutes which could have been hours. Then static, and the Dusknoir flickered red, vanishing into a Pokéball. Eusine was released from his grip.

“You already know what you’re going to say to Morty to convince him to come here. Take this-” and he held out the ball “-and use it on him if he tries to stop you. Guards.”

The door opened and the two Omega’s returned.

“Take this man to the Station in Saffron City. Escort him to Goldenrod.”

▉▉▉▉▉▉▉▉▉▉▉▉▉▉▉▉▉▉▉▉▉▉▉▉ ☆ ★ ☆ RED

It'd been a few days or so since that disastrous encounter. The same day Red almost lost his hat, and the same day he lost - not that he ever had him - Blue. The raven was having trouble sleeping. More than usual. And all of his Pokemon could feel the change in his attitude, even though it was a minuscule and visually unnoticeable change. He'd become so cold and distant that he was below the freezing point. Surely. 

The worse part about it, was that the raven was blaming himself. Thinking that if he would've just stayed on the same ship as Blue, or fussed about the sleeping arrangements; either Blue would still be here, or he'd be dead. Right along with him. 

As anyone could have guessed, Red still wasn't talking. Perhaps it was even worse than before now that he'd lost such a good friend. MIA, was it?

Red pressed against the railing enclosing the boat as  it neared the dock. When it came to a stop he looked over to where the stairs led, and then to the island. He blinked once or twice, running his hand over Pikachu's head before finally stepping away from the railing. The raven watched as people began to leave the boat, many of them simply faces he'd never seen before. 

He heard his name a few times, though he wasn't very sure it was directed at him. Those scarlet eyes continued to follow the retreating bodies, wondering what everyone had in mind. How they could keep on living a normal life after this was beyond him. Then again, these people hadn't lost . . . Blue.

It was obvious that there was something troubling the kid. Not that he was going to speak up about it. Yeah. It was like that. Just as things were getting situated, too. Disaster hit. Red lost his best friend, as well as his rival. 

At the sound of a pokeball opening, and that red light flickering in his peripheral vision, the young man turned around. He looked down at Muse with a stoic look on his face. Kneeling down, he petted the snake for a moment. Wasting no time, he took out the proper pokeball  and returned the serpent to its home. He stood up and made his way over to where Alder, Lance and Lorelei were seated.

This being, where he heard his name. 

Red didn't particularly know the trio by name. He didn't know them very well, either. He didn't know anyone well other than Blue, it seemed.

Pikachu ran from one of Red's shoulder, to the other and happily 'smiled' down to Lance. " Pika! Chu chu! "  The furry Pokemon made no hesitation to do the same for both Alder and Lorelei, happily waving his tail back and forth. Unlike his trainer, the Pokemon was more than friendly and sociable.

It was a rare occasion that Red interacted with anyone, but it was also rare that your best friend . . . went missing. Of course Red would still be in denial about the situation, refusing to believe that Blue stopped treading this world, he had enough 'fight' in him to survive. Red's logic made no sense whatsoever. 

The young man loomed over the three awkwardly, whilst pikachu happily shot an attempt out to become friends with these people. Red didn't know what to say or do, because he had this intricate way of avoiding talking to people up until now.

 Would his voice - work correctly? Or would it be a rusty, hoarse, excuse for a voice. 

' I just have to speak . . . '

He meditated to himself as he stayed there awkwardly. Albeit he couldn't. 

After looking down at his feet for an extended amount of time, and shifting from one side to the other, he finally looked up. Momentarily, mind you. The raven rose a hand in a salute of sorts. Looking to each of them before moving his hand, he drew his hat down farther so that it shadowed over his eyes and proceeded to stare at the ground.

This. Was the greatest greeting he could offer. " . . . "

All that was left to do now, was to wait for a greeting back and well, to stand and listen as he always did. Talking wasn't necessarily below him. Yet it wasn't above him either.