i was trying to keep myself from poasting with him for so long /HAS NO SELF-RESTRAINT
[If anyone frequents the library, they may have noticed over the past few days that it's had a new visitor. Ever since he's found it, Ara's visited the place like clockwork at the same exact time every day, staying for no less than two or three hours.
What exactly is he doing? Paperwork. Of a sort.
Ever since he was young and had gotten his first paperback journal, he'd faithfully kept records of his first two Pokemon, Ryuushi and Stardust. Their current health. What they had eaten that day, what they had done and any injuries they may have gotten. Their general moods. Everything that he thought might have been an indicator of their wellbeing, he'd note down.
As his team grew, so did the amount of work that he did. As he learned new things, new notes were added. The single journal grew into a binder of massive proportions, holding inside journals and folders and notes and sketches on various things-not only for each Pokemon that he had owned or cared for, but skills and stories he had picked up. Lists of berries and their purposes. Various herbs and medicines. Pokeblock and Poffin recipes. Old stories of lore, as well as scientific entries of the day. Ideas for therapies and training regimens. Even regular meal recipes.
After arriving at the DR, yet another series of journals have found their way into it: a separate record of his times in the DR. There's a part of him that still wonders how real everything is, and if the time spent here would even be applicable into the real world. It would be safest to keep all data obtained during that period separate for now, it could always be integrated later.
Even now, as he starts noting down progress of the berries he had planted in the area outside the building, there's a part of him that worries about what he's doing. How before, back home, little Rua had made him question all the work he had done in those years, how much of this paper would truly help in the long run. How every minute spent sequestered here was one less minute spent simply enjoying life with his Pokemon, understanding them in that way that only frequent interaction could. How being in here was just an escape, making him cold and indifferent to the outside world, changing him (even moreso after Satisfaction...). And as he worries about the productivity and usefulness of his actions, he wonders if perhaps he should just stop early, close up everything and just go back outside, like he used to. Who knows what his Pokemon were up to during the three hours he'd spend here every day. It was almost like abandoning them. Almost. Was it?
As he wonders, Ara continues to write, slowly, methodically.]
What exactly is he doing? Paperwork. Of a sort.
Ever since he was young and had gotten his first paperback journal, he'd faithfully kept records of his first two Pokemon, Ryuushi and Stardust. Their current health. What they had eaten that day, what they had done and any injuries they may have gotten. Their general moods. Everything that he thought might have been an indicator of their wellbeing, he'd note down.
As his team grew, so did the amount of work that he did. As he learned new things, new notes were added. The single journal grew into a binder of massive proportions, holding inside journals and folders and notes and sketches on various things-not only for each Pokemon that he had owned or cared for, but skills and stories he had picked up. Lists of berries and their purposes. Various herbs and medicines. Pokeblock and Poffin recipes. Old stories of lore, as well as scientific entries of the day. Ideas for therapies and training regimens. Even regular meal recipes.
After arriving at the DR, yet another series of journals have found their way into it: a separate record of his times in the DR. There's a part of him that still wonders how real everything is, and if the time spent here would even be applicable into the real world. It would be safest to keep all data obtained during that period separate for now, it could always be integrated later.
Even now, as he starts noting down progress of the berries he had planted in the area outside the building, there's a part of him that worries about what he's doing. How before, back home, little Rua had made him question all the work he had done in those years, how much of this paper would truly help in the long run. How every minute spent sequestered here was one less minute spent simply enjoying life with his Pokemon, understanding them in that way that only frequent interaction could. How being in here was just an escape, making him cold and indifferent to the outside world, changing him (even moreso after Satisfaction...). And as he worries about the productivity and usefulness of his actions, he wonders if perhaps he should just stop early, close up everything and just go back outside, like he used to. Who knows what his Pokemon were up to during the three hours he'd spend here every day. It was almost like abandoning them. Almost. Was it?
As he wonders, Ara continues to write, slowly, methodically.]