☀ 01
[Introspection → 7136 Brook Street]
[loss is a difficult feeling to describe because words don’t do it justice; confusion is even worse. right now, Red is feeling a poignant mixture of both that begins the moment his exhaustion-addled brain registers that what he’s lying on right now isn’t the bed of leaves he’s made for himself on the cold, hard ground in a secluded, safe part of Mt. Silver’s network of caves, but in actuality a mattress. it’s fluffy and comfortable - perfect in every sense of the word for a good night’s rest. idyllic is the keyword for this morning; when he opens his eyes fully, the first thing he notices about the room he’s in is that it’s completely and utterly quaint , so much so that he finds it very difficult to believe that this has anything to do with an abduction plot. what kind of kidnapper takes up interior decorating anyway?
it’s all very troubling…but it’s also very familiar, too. so much so that it might come as a little uncharacteristic to see Red pull himself into an upright sitting position in bed just so he can hug his knees and bury his head in the space between them and his chest.
silly room. silly, boring clothes. silly home in the middle of a very silly little town located in the corner of a world that he knows next to nothing about, but that doesn’t change the fact that it seems to know everything about him and sees nothing wrong with using that information against him. there’s only one place that comes to mind that would do something like this to him and he’s honestly surprised that he hasn’t thought once of it since returning home…if he was even really back in Kanto to begin with. maybe that’s just another one of the town’s tricks, too; making you forget about it so it can cover its tracks.
there’s one thing that is out of place, though, even for Mayfield: try as he might, he definitely doesn’t remember waking up with his belongings intact when he found himself in the town for the first time. there are three Poké Balls on the nightstand beside him, and folded up at the foot of his bed are his clothes - his real clothes - and hat. this doesn’t make any sense… why would the town let him keep his Pokemon? is it a trick?
only one way to find out. hesitantly, he takes the middle Poké Ball, aims it away from his bed, and presses the button. a bright but brief flash of light fills the room for one second, and Red hears an intensely frustrated little squeak soon after.]
”Pika!”
[he inhales. Pikachu bounds up onto the bed and buries himself in Red’s lap, static crackling at his cheek pouches as he rubs against the covers, irritated and somehow anxious at the same time.
Red sits there like that for a very long time, expression blank and unreadable even as his drone mother begins yelling his name from some part of the house, calling him in for breakfast.]
[Action → Mayfield High]
[school seems to be inescapable at this point in time. unlike his last stay in Mayfield, he has a drone to watch him and make sure that he gets on the school bus this time. however, she doesn’t seem to notice the little red and white balls that hang clipped to Red’s belt, nor does she comment on the way his backpack seems a little more full than it should be. and that it seems to have picked up the unfortunate habit of squeaking, too.
he doesn’t even know what classes he’s supposed to be taking. surely none of the teachers will mind seeing a strange new boy show up in their classrooms - a boy who, weeks ago, was once talkative and social; a typical drone, nothing that out of the ordinary here. for the rest of the day, Red can be seen doing one of the following:]
(a) [sitting in the cafeteria at lunchtime with his backpack in his lap. if you’re sitting next to him or close by, you might see him pick food off his tray and shovel it into his backpack, trying and failing to be discrete because said backpack won’t stop quivering and making the cutest strangest noises. he’s a little irritated by this point.]
(b) [falling asleep in class and making no excuse to hide it either. it’s been forever since he’s attended a class, and this one is so incredibly boring - it has absolutely nothing to do with training or studying Pokemon, and therefor it’s useless to him. he spreads his elbows out on his desks and lays his head down, eyes closed.
it’s definitely just your imagination that his backpack is snoring, too.]
[Phone]
[the call goes out later when he gets back from school. his voice is soft, but not apathetic or unkind. he's still very unused to this kind of thing.]
...Is it normal to go home, then come right back? I've heard that it is, but I'd like to make sure.
[a pause, then:]
I remember everything, too. And I have my Pokemon with me. That feels a little strange. I don't trust this town to do anything nice for me without expecting something back; none of you should.
[...did that come off a little too strong? aaaa, he REALLY isn't good with this. maybe he should just hang up and be done with it. but...that would be even more rude, wouldn't it? crap. time to change the subject. he takes a deep breath.]
Can anyone tell me what's happened since April? I don't remember anything past that month.
[loss is a difficult feeling to describe because words don’t do it justice; confusion is even worse. right now, Red is feeling a poignant mixture of both that begins the moment his exhaustion-addled brain registers that what he’s lying on right now isn’t the bed of leaves he’s made for himself on the cold, hard ground in a secluded, safe part of Mt. Silver’s network of caves, but in actuality a mattress. it’s fluffy and comfortable - perfect in every sense of the word for a good night’s rest. idyllic is the keyword for this morning; when he opens his eyes fully, the first thing he notices about the room he’s in is that it’s completely and utterly quaint , so much so that he finds it very difficult to believe that this has anything to do with an abduction plot. what kind of kidnapper takes up interior decorating anyway?
it’s all very troubling…but it’s also very familiar, too. so much so that it might come as a little uncharacteristic to see Red pull himself into an upright sitting position in bed just so he can hug his knees and bury his head in the space between them and his chest.
silly room. silly, boring clothes. silly home in the middle of a very silly little town located in the corner of a world that he knows next to nothing about, but that doesn’t change the fact that it seems to know everything about him and sees nothing wrong with using that information against him. there’s only one place that comes to mind that would do something like this to him and he’s honestly surprised that he hasn’t thought once of it since returning home…if he was even really back in Kanto to begin with. maybe that’s just another one of the town’s tricks, too; making you forget about it so it can cover its tracks.
there’s one thing that is out of place, though, even for Mayfield: try as he might, he definitely doesn’t remember waking up with his belongings intact when he found himself in the town for the first time. there are three Poké Balls on the nightstand beside him, and folded up at the foot of his bed are his clothes - his real clothes - and hat. this doesn’t make any sense… why would the town let him keep his Pokemon? is it a trick?
only one way to find out. hesitantly, he takes the middle Poké Ball, aims it away from his bed, and presses the button. a bright but brief flash of light fills the room for one second, and Red hears an intensely frustrated little squeak soon after.]
”Pika!”
[he inhales. Pikachu bounds up onto the bed and buries himself in Red’s lap, static crackling at his cheek pouches as he rubs against the covers, irritated and somehow anxious at the same time.
Red sits there like that for a very long time, expression blank and unreadable even as his drone mother begins yelling his name from some part of the house, calling him in for breakfast.]
[Action → Mayfield High]
[school seems to be inescapable at this point in time. unlike his last stay in Mayfield, he has a drone to watch him and make sure that he gets on the school bus this time. however, she doesn’t seem to notice the little red and white balls that hang clipped to Red’s belt, nor does she comment on the way his backpack seems a little more full than it should be. and that it seems to have picked up the unfortunate habit of squeaking, too.
he doesn’t even know what classes he’s supposed to be taking. surely none of the teachers will mind seeing a strange new boy show up in their classrooms - a boy who, weeks ago, was once talkative and social; a typical drone, nothing that out of the ordinary here. for the rest of the day, Red can be seen doing one of the following:]
(a) [sitting in the cafeteria at lunchtime with his backpack in his lap. if you’re sitting next to him or close by, you might see him pick food off his tray and shovel it into his backpack, trying and failing to be discrete because said backpack won’t stop quivering and making the cutest strangest noises. he’s a little irritated by this point.]
(b) [falling asleep in class and making no excuse to hide it either. it’s been forever since he’s attended a class, and this one is so incredibly boring - it has absolutely nothing to do with training or studying Pokemon, and therefor it’s useless to him. he spreads his elbows out on his desks and lays his head down, eyes closed.
it’s definitely just your imagination that his backpack is snoring, too.]
[Phone]
[the call goes out later when he gets back from school. his voice is soft, but not apathetic or unkind. he's still very unused to this kind of thing.]
...Is it normal to go home, then come right back? I've heard that it is, but I'd like to make sure.
[a pause, then:]
I remember everything, too. And I have my Pokemon with me. That feels a little strange. I don't trust this town to do anything nice for me without expecting something back; none of you should.
[...did that come off a little too strong? aaaa, he REALLY isn't good with this. maybe he should just hang up and be done with it. but...that would be even more rude, wouldn't it? crap. time to change the subject. he takes a deep breath.]
Can anyone tell me what's happened since April? I don't remember anything past that month.