Drabbles - Sinnoh & Johto, Highschool AUs
Author: nerrin
Rating: G
Warning(s): OOC everywhere, same AUs as the ones I keep posting o/
Title: Sinnoh Academy Highschool AU [1]
Character(s): Palmer, Thorton
Summary: This may or may not need to be continued.
+
Palmer grimaced, then tried pulling a pout much like that of Japanese idols (mostly female).
However, unlike them, he had male genitalia and was not entirely decked out in ridiculous shades consisting mostly of nuclear pink and black (which did not have shades unless varying degrees of gray counted). Palmer was also not holding any offensive objects of every size, material, and shape imaginable, including kryptonite. He also happened to not sport any hairclips the as big as tarantulas. Neither was he wearing an obnoxiously huge wig which doubled as the perfect breeding ground for a mold civilization.
In short, he had absolutely no idea what the hell he was doing but Palmer being Palmer, did it anyway.
Thorton looked up from his calculus in surprise. After years of having to be around Palmer, he had sort of developed both an immunity and honed sense to Palmer’s illogical-ness. Much like Cynthia’s very much attested-for Gaydar, which was so accurate that it had to be spelt with a capital ‘G’. Except what would he call such a sense? ‘Palmerdar’? Forget it.
“Palmer,” he asked, from all the way across the office. “What on earth are you trying to do?”
Argenta was out, and Dahlia on leave. Darach dropped by often enough to play his part as the Mysterious English Head of Department but he wasn’t here today either. So it was only Thorton, Palmer, and the stupidly-big office that was meant to hold five but now only held less than half the number. Thorton supposed it was better than it holding approximately half. He wouldn’t quite enjoy the site of a person dividing, in the more literal sense of the word.
Besides - Argenta encouraged Palmer’s bullshit, Dahlia didn’t do anything about anything, and Darach was too busy playing James Bond. So Thorton was the one left to deal with the backlash of Palmer’s insanity. So to speak.
“I am trying,” Palmer said, “To make,” between face-pulls, “Expressions.”
Thorton felt something connect with another something rather messily in his mind. “Captain Obvious, you have made at least fifteen different expressions in at least three different directions over the ten-second course of your previous statement. Elaborate, please.”
“You know the meetings we always hold between the affiliated schools?”
“The Academies of Kanto, Johto, Hoenn and this one, Sinnoh? Then yes, I do. Only the Principals and the Vice-Principals are to attend twice a year unless in the case of emergencies, am I right?”
“And then someone said I wasn’t expressive enough the last time round.”
Thorton did an exceptionally violent double-take and almost threw his calculus at Palmer’s mirror. But his aim was poor, he’d probably hit the man instead. Not so much a loss (it was always fun to bully or tease the guy, really) but the consequences he would rather not have the luxury of experiencing.
“You are the most expressive person I know,” Thorton said. “And I know many people.”
Palmer peeled his gaze away from his own reflection in the mirror. “Is that a compliment I hear?” he asked cheekily, lazy smile playing on his lips. Thorton decided that maybe throwing the calculus hadn’t been such a bad idea after all.
“Depending on the context, I’d say no, not really.” But then he caught the despondent look in the older man’s eyes, and sighed. “But for you, yes, it could be considered a compliment.”
“Just barely,” Thorton added hastily, when Palmer’s face lit up in the more figurative sense of the word. But it was Palmer, and quite frankly, he wouldn’t have been the least bit fazed if the man had suddenly decided to channel a lightbulb. Over the course of their years together, Palmer had been known to channel quite a few oddities. One of which had been especially terrifying, but that was another story altogether.
Thus Palmer shook his head, chuckling, while Thorton merely shrugged and returned to counting the expenses the school had incurred with his mathematical instrument. The number was quite an impressive one and he silently wondered how the hell the school paid for this shit.
Silence descended as it always would when the room was filled but no one spoke. Thorton decided to take the damned thing and break it in two, Palmer looking up from his Principal’s Position with an air of mild surprise, a pen still stuck behind his left ear.
“You know,” he said, “Now would be a very good time for someone to make an overly-flashy arrival.”
And then Argenta burst in, complete with fanfare from the school band.
“Thorton,” asked Palmer innocently, “Are you psychic?”
END.
Title: Johto Academy Highschool AU [1]
Character(s): Morty, Eusine
Summary: Faggots. :l
+
In the corridor, Morty drew his scarf tighter around his neck, the purple fabric thick and seemingly frozen. “Hell must be freezing over.”
“And why’s that?”
“Look,” he gestured at the snow coming down as manly tears would after a particularly heartwarming ending to a series. “It’s snowing.”
Eusine furrowed his brow. “Well, I can see that. So?”
Morty rolled his eyes, but his fingers were far too frozen for him to make a slap at his forehead, so an exaggerated sigh would have to do. “What month is it?”
“June. Why?”
“Did you ever notice,” Morty explained patiently, “That we’re currently in the middle of summer?”
“…Oh.”
END.
Title: Johto Academy Highschool AU [2]
Character(s): Morty, Falkner, Volkner
Summary: Morty fails epicly when it comes to tests of physical fitness. VERY epicly.
+
“You,” Falkner wagged an indignant finger, near breaking-point, “Are hopeless.”
Volkner nodded dismally. “Normally I’d hate to agree with you, my brother from another mother, but yeah. He’s hopeless.”
Morty sighed. “Give me a break, guys.”
“No, we can’t give you a break,” Falkner rubbed his temples. “And I should be the one sighing at you! How can someone be this un-athletic!?”
“But -”
“Morty,” Volkner knelt down on the grass beside the guy, and placed a hand on his shoulder. “You can’t really argue with my not-brother when you can’t even do thirty push-ups.”
“But -”
“In the girls’ position.”
Morty slumped further down into the ground in defeat.
Volkner exchanged a look with Falkner. “Give him credit, he tried.”
“But it’s not enough!” Falkner was wringing his hands now, desperate. “If he doesn’t get better by the next Physical Fitness Test, we’re going to be screwed!”
“Is it really that serious?” Morty looked up from his careful inspection of the damp, not-so-fluffy grass. It prickled against his skin quite comfortably. “Couldn’t I do something like pulling out?”
“Every member of the class has to run the 2.4 kilometers. If not, you’ll still have to retake it.”
“But that’s just for the class’ average timing, right? I mean, it’s not exactly that important.”
Falkner shot him a look of utter horror mixed in with a generous helping of disbelief. “Clair will kill you if the Elite class screws even this one up. Hell, she’ll kill me as well! And if that’s not good enough for you, try Clair and Karen together. And if you want, maybe even Whitney -”
Morty held up a hand, face buried in the other. “Okay, enough, I get it. If I don’t at least pass, I’ll suffer a spectacular demise.”
“Exactly. All you need to do is pass. The rest of us will make up for you.”
“Really?” tried Morty hopefully. “Then why can’t I just fail and have all of you pull up the average?”
“You can take over an hour just walking fast,” Falkner explained patiently. “It’s not going to work.”
Volkner glanced at Morty, then at his brother. He shook his head. Ah, the woes of youth. Having to subject oneself to endless torture under the sun, and for what? A medal? Oh, hell no. Recognition, as far as he was concerned, wasn’t worth anything. He’d fail tests as they came and pass the really important ones spectacularly.
Except some others didn’t quite agree with him (read: Cynthia) but it really wasn’t his problem that he was lazy. Really. But then again, Volkner digressed.
“So?” he said, ‘What now?”
Falkner glared at him, then at Morty, whom was still attempting recovery on the hillside. The boy shook his head, sighing. “Another round. Not push-ups. Running.”
Volkner shrugged, he was okay with it.
Beside him, Morty groaned.
END.
Rating: G
Warning(s): OOC everywhere, same AUs as the ones I keep posting o/
Title: Sinnoh Academy Highschool AU [1]
Character(s): Palmer, Thorton
Summary: This may or may not need to be continued.
+
Palmer grimaced, then tried pulling a pout much like that of Japanese idols (mostly female).
However, unlike them, he had male genitalia and was not entirely decked out in ridiculous shades consisting mostly of nuclear pink and black (which did not have shades unless varying degrees of gray counted). Palmer was also not holding any offensive objects of every size, material, and shape imaginable, including kryptonite. He also happened to not sport any hairclips the as big as tarantulas. Neither was he wearing an obnoxiously huge wig which doubled as the perfect breeding ground for a mold civilization.
In short, he had absolutely no idea what the hell he was doing but Palmer being Palmer, did it anyway.
Thorton looked up from his calculus in surprise. After years of having to be around Palmer, he had sort of developed both an immunity and honed sense to Palmer’s illogical-ness. Much like Cynthia’s very much attested-for Gaydar, which was so accurate that it had to be spelt with a capital ‘G’. Except what would he call such a sense? ‘Palmerdar’? Forget it.
“Palmer,” he asked, from all the way across the office. “What on earth are you trying to do?”
Argenta was out, and Dahlia on leave. Darach dropped by often enough to play his part as the Mysterious English Head of Department but he wasn’t here today either. So it was only Thorton, Palmer, and the stupidly-big office that was meant to hold five but now only held less than half the number. Thorton supposed it was better than it holding approximately half. He wouldn’t quite enjoy the site of a person dividing, in the more literal sense of the word.
Besides - Argenta encouraged Palmer’s bullshit, Dahlia didn’t do anything about anything, and Darach was too busy playing James Bond. So Thorton was the one left to deal with the backlash of Palmer’s insanity. So to speak.
“I am trying,” Palmer said, “To make,” between face-pulls, “Expressions.”
Thorton felt something connect with another something rather messily in his mind. “Captain Obvious, you have made at least fifteen different expressions in at least three different directions over the ten-second course of your previous statement. Elaborate, please.”
“You know the meetings we always hold between the affiliated schools?”
“The Academies of Kanto, Johto, Hoenn and this one, Sinnoh? Then yes, I do. Only the Principals and the Vice-Principals are to attend twice a year unless in the case of emergencies, am I right?”
“And then someone said I wasn’t expressive enough the last time round.”
Thorton did an exceptionally violent double-take and almost threw his calculus at Palmer’s mirror. But his aim was poor, he’d probably hit the man instead. Not so much a loss (it was always fun to bully or tease the guy, really) but the consequences he would rather not have the luxury of experiencing.
“You are the most expressive person I know,” Thorton said. “And I know many people.”
Palmer peeled his gaze away from his own reflection in the mirror. “Is that a compliment I hear?” he asked cheekily, lazy smile playing on his lips. Thorton decided that maybe throwing the calculus hadn’t been such a bad idea after all.
“Depending on the context, I’d say no, not really.” But then he caught the despondent look in the older man’s eyes, and sighed. “But for you, yes, it could be considered a compliment.”
“Just barely,” Thorton added hastily, when Palmer’s face lit up in the more figurative sense of the word. But it was Palmer, and quite frankly, he wouldn’t have been the least bit fazed if the man had suddenly decided to channel a lightbulb. Over the course of their years together, Palmer had been known to channel quite a few oddities. One of which had been especially terrifying, but that was another story altogether.
Thus Palmer shook his head, chuckling, while Thorton merely shrugged and returned to counting the expenses the school had incurred with his mathematical instrument. The number was quite an impressive one and he silently wondered how the hell the school paid for this shit.
Silence descended as it always would when the room was filled but no one spoke. Thorton decided to take the damned thing and break it in two, Palmer looking up from his Principal’s Position with an air of mild surprise, a pen still stuck behind his left ear.
“You know,” he said, “Now would be a very good time for someone to make an overly-flashy arrival.”
And then Argenta burst in, complete with fanfare from the school band.
“Thorton,” asked Palmer innocently, “Are you psychic?”
END.
Title: Johto Academy Highschool AU [1]
Character(s): Morty, Eusine
Summary: Faggots. :l
+
In the corridor, Morty drew his scarf tighter around his neck, the purple fabric thick and seemingly frozen. “Hell must be freezing over.”
“And why’s that?”
“Look,” he gestured at the snow coming down as manly tears would after a particularly heartwarming ending to a series. “It’s snowing.”
Eusine furrowed his brow. “Well, I can see that. So?”
Morty rolled his eyes, but his fingers were far too frozen for him to make a slap at his forehead, so an exaggerated sigh would have to do. “What month is it?”
“June. Why?”
“Did you ever notice,” Morty explained patiently, “That we’re currently in the middle of summer?”
“…Oh.”
END.
Title: Johto Academy Highschool AU [2]
Character(s): Morty, Falkner, Volkner
Summary: Morty fails epicly when it comes to tests of physical fitness. VERY epicly.
+
“You,” Falkner wagged an indignant finger, near breaking-point, “Are hopeless.”
Volkner nodded dismally. “Normally I’d hate to agree with you, my brother from another mother, but yeah. He’s hopeless.”
Morty sighed. “Give me a break, guys.”
“No, we can’t give you a break,” Falkner rubbed his temples. “And I should be the one sighing at you! How can someone be this un-athletic!?”
“But -”
“Morty,” Volkner knelt down on the grass beside the guy, and placed a hand on his shoulder. “You can’t really argue with my not-brother when you can’t even do thirty push-ups.”
“But -”
“In the girls’ position.”
Morty slumped further down into the ground in defeat.
Volkner exchanged a look with Falkner. “Give him credit, he tried.”
“But it’s not enough!” Falkner was wringing his hands now, desperate. “If he doesn’t get better by the next Physical Fitness Test, we’re going to be screwed!”
“Is it really that serious?” Morty looked up from his careful inspection of the damp, not-so-fluffy grass. It prickled against his skin quite comfortably. “Couldn’t I do something like pulling out?”
“Every member of the class has to run the 2.4 kilometers. If not, you’ll still have to retake it.”
“But that’s just for the class’ average timing, right? I mean, it’s not exactly that important.”
Falkner shot him a look of utter horror mixed in with a generous helping of disbelief. “Clair will kill you if the Elite class screws even this one up. Hell, she’ll kill me as well! And if that’s not good enough for you, try Clair and Karen together. And if you want, maybe even Whitney -”
Morty held up a hand, face buried in the other. “Okay, enough, I get it. If I don’t at least pass, I’ll suffer a spectacular demise.”
“Exactly. All you need to do is pass. The rest of us will make up for you.”
“Really?” tried Morty hopefully. “Then why can’t I just fail and have all of you pull up the average?”
“You can take over an hour just walking fast,” Falkner explained patiently. “It’s not going to work.”
Volkner glanced at Morty, then at his brother. He shook his head. Ah, the woes of youth. Having to subject oneself to endless torture under the sun, and for what? A medal? Oh, hell no. Recognition, as far as he was concerned, wasn’t worth anything. He’d fail tests as they came and pass the really important ones spectacularly.
Except some others didn’t quite agree with him (read: Cynthia) but it really wasn’t his problem that he was lazy. Really. But then again, Volkner digressed.
“So?” he said, ‘What now?”
Falkner glared at him, then at Morty, whom was still attempting recovery on the hillside. The boy shook his head, sighing. “Another round. Not push-ups. Running.”
Volkner shrugged, he was okay with it.
Beside him, Morty groaned.
END.