Boredom takes its toll (Active/Open)
Characters: Pika
Content: Pika's way to pass the time.
Location: Bryant Park Hotel, an empty hotel room.
Time of day: Early morning.
Warnings: Nothing much. Auto-translated for the readers. Might cause tears.
Pika had been honing this skill since he got here. He might not of been the best, but he had his own style to work with. It made the time go quicker. Although in this place that didn't mean much. This wasn't his world, in every sense of this phrase. "{Zapdos wing... why can't we just leave...}" he tried to put thoughts like this out of his mind, but they crept back in when he thought of this place, its every smell and taste. It was depressing. And there was no thrill in the fight here, crabs were simple, inelegant, there were only numbers to overcome. No drama, no love in the fight here.
There were no other Pokemon to fight, Bolt was not combative, and he doubted he could truely take on a human here, they were so strong. Which lead to him trying Human things to pass the time. This by far was his favorite though now. He put his paws into the red liquid he was working with and leaped around. Fury and gentle swipes intermixed, practice in this was like combat, the more he worked the better he got. In fact, his style used his combat a lot, sometimes to get the right lines he'd use his tail in a graceful Tail Whip, or his paws in a Pound, or use the speed from Agility or Quick Attack to get exactly the image he wanted.
His every stroke and movement made him long for home, but he had to. He had to get rid of the fear he'd forget the details. He had to make sure in his mind he could still see them. He moved onto other colored liquids, one after another, washing his paws and tail when he was done with one part. Every movement made it clearer, more obvious. And made him miss home more.
A few hours of these quick, but thought out, movements toward the canvas and he was done. He took a step back and washed off his extremities one last time and looked at his work. Another painting done. The room was filled with paintings, each one a show of his improvement. "{Might not be a Smeargle, but I can handle my own,}" Pika commented to himself, proud he still remembered what they looked like.
Each painting had similar subjects, some details were missing, this painting had a boy, in a red hat, and a red jacket over a black shirt, blue jeans, and a bandanna tied to his leg. Around him were a series of creatures, a blue thing with a spiral on its torso and no head to speak of but eyes attached to its shoulders. A giant snake-like dragon creature, blue with long whiskers. A large gray dinosaur creature, with a great wingspan and long tail. A big green creature with a forest growing on its back. A blue-green bear with a white belly, which is incredibly fat. A small lilac-colored cat-creature, with a gem on its forehead and a tail that splits in two. And finally, smiling on the boy's shoulder was... Pika himself. Everyone else's face seemed happy, the whole group seemed to enjoy life.
"{I miss you... master...}"
Content: Pika's way to pass the time.
Location: Bryant Park Hotel, an empty hotel room.
Time of day: Early morning.
Warnings: Nothing much. Auto-translated for the readers. Might cause tears.
Pika had been honing this skill since he got here. He might not of been the best, but he had his own style to work with. It made the time go quicker. Although in this place that didn't mean much. This wasn't his world, in every sense of this phrase. "{Zapdos wing... why can't we just leave...}" he tried to put thoughts like this out of his mind, but they crept back in when he thought of this place, its every smell and taste. It was depressing. And there was no thrill in the fight here, crabs were simple, inelegant, there were only numbers to overcome. No drama, no love in the fight here.
There were no other Pokemon to fight, Bolt was not combative, and he doubted he could truely take on a human here, they were so strong. Which lead to him trying Human things to pass the time. This by far was his favorite though now. He put his paws into the red liquid he was working with and leaped around. Fury and gentle swipes intermixed, practice in this was like combat, the more he worked the better he got. In fact, his style used his combat a lot, sometimes to get the right lines he'd use his tail in a graceful Tail Whip, or his paws in a Pound, or use the speed from Agility or Quick Attack to get exactly the image he wanted.
His every stroke and movement made him long for home, but he had to. He had to get rid of the fear he'd forget the details. He had to make sure in his mind he could still see them. He moved onto other colored liquids, one after another, washing his paws and tail when he was done with one part. Every movement made it clearer, more obvious. And made him miss home more.
A few hours of these quick, but thought out, movements toward the canvas and he was done. He took a step back and washed off his extremities one last time and looked at his work. Another painting done. The room was filled with paintings, each one a show of his improvement. "{Might not be a Smeargle, but I can handle my own,}" Pika commented to himself, proud he still remembered what they looked like.
Each painting had similar subjects, some details were missing, this painting had a boy, in a red hat, and a red jacket over a black shirt, blue jeans, and a bandanna tied to his leg. Around him were a series of creatures, a blue thing with a spiral on its torso and no head to speak of but eyes attached to its shoulders. A giant snake-like dragon creature, blue with long whiskers. A large gray dinosaur creature, with a great wingspan and long tail. A big green creature with a forest growing on its back. A blue-green bear with a white belly, which is incredibly fat. A small lilac-colored cat-creature, with a gem on its forehead and a tail that splits in two. And finally, smiling on the boy's shoulder was... Pika himself. Everyone else's face seemed happy, the whole group seemed to enjoy life.
"{I miss you... master...}"