Post by zat on Oct 24, 2009 14:39:18 GMT -8
It was one of those days. You know, the days you don't want to go out for all the money in the world - two days straight DOWNPOUR OF DOOM had turned the ground to an unspeakable muddy mess, all Pokémon was huddled inside their wherever-they-lived, not even the grass ones looked like they had much fun anymore. Ground ones had gone from "crawling in the mud" to "CRAAAWLING IN YOUR SKIIN". And it was still raining, althrough not this walk-ten-meters-and-look-like-you-had-a-waterbucked-thrown-over-your-head, but rather this stubborn-rain-that-leaves-you-wet-exactly-everywhere. The world was a foggy grey.
Except maybe Zio.
It was a Friday, of course. Fridays, then you want to stay home and wait for the weekend already anyways. Friday afternoon, this season then the sky was turning dark-ish even through it's only somewhere five-six maybe, Zio had no idea. He didn't even have a clock, why would he, anyway. His umbrella was slightly torn by the winds, but it's tempura-colored material and cheerful red "Frank Fisherman changes you to a battle!" logo still made it look uplifting in this weather. Well, god bless Frank Fisherman, because Zio Uncool Trainer Zio sure as hell would't change anyone to a battle anytime soon unless he got a Pokémon, and that's why he was standing outside this small building in the rain, hoping for thunder to strike him down or anything, anything to make his hands stop shaking in their worn, ugly fingerless gloves. The door seemed to be laughing at him. Zio was sure it was a Ditto. Which didn't exactly made him feel much better, what if the whole building was just one big, hungry Ditto? He had seen a horror movie about that once. He better go back. His mother sure must be worried. She was the sweetest woman alive, really. She would't want him to be eaten by a Ditto. Or anything purple. She was the sweetest woman alive, but she DID NOT LIKE PURPLE. Had something to do with a Nidoking or something. He didn't ask, Zio.
He wasn't really sure about this, Zio. He'd rather, you know, find a Pokémon he got along with himself. He wasn't even sure he really wanted a Pokémon - it was a pretty big thing, right? But the boat had taken him here, and it wasn't like he had any Pokéballs to catch one with himself. But still... It didn't feel right. Hey, I'm Zio, and we're going to be best friends. Pft. The weather must be affecting him. Zio didn't like cold weather. But he didn't like this building and their Pokémon much either, at least not the idea of it, so he simply did what feel right - screw Pokémon, let's get dinner. He was hungry, his hair was a mess, and it wasn't like those things was going anywhere anyway. Zio spun around, and walked back towards the habour instead - he still had some saggy hotdogs in his backpack, and hey, they might be great to the taste of artificial colored hair stuck in mouth and... What else he had. Probably rice. Rice was good. Some curry-bread. There was a place for camping somewhere along the coast, for those stupid fucks (Zio) that didn't know what a Pokémon Center was. He had seen it from the boat. It had a fireplace and a shelter that might actually be waterproof. He could eat soggy hotdogs and currybread alone, and think of what to do afterward. He didn't want to think about it. Should have thought about before, obviously, this Pokémon thing, but Zio was a social person that didn't like to be alone and thought cute warm things was the best, so he'd kinda assumed he'd go for something cute-looking and hope it worked out between them. He didn't want that now. They might not work out.
Oh screw this, Zio thought as he reached the shelter that turned out to be pretty waterproof after all, which was a good thing, because Zios shoulders was kind of DEAD, no, really, and there wasn't a matter of more then twenty minutes walking, but he had both his backpack and guitar and such... He really considered going back and ask if they had a stupid, nice, cute Pokémon he could use to carry his stuff and be nice to him. And he could win a lot of stuff and they would be really famous and his mother would be proud and Zio suddenly kinda felt like crying but he manfully willed it back by showing his mouth so full of currybread he choked and coughed and coughed. It echoed off the walls of the shelter. A big shelter. Probably meant for more then one person. Probably meant for Pokémon too. Zio turned up the volume on his IPod to a degree that would have killed a Jigglypuff. Im da master, he reminded himself. Would be, at least. Yo, world.
{haha, sorry, I just don't really think he's ready for a Pokémon the first thing he does, so I'll just have him... Walking around a bit. Ya know. Feel free to throw whatever you want at him. If it's eatable, he'll love ya.}
Except maybe Zio.
It was a Friday, of course. Fridays, then you want to stay home and wait for the weekend already anyways. Friday afternoon, this season then the sky was turning dark-ish even through it's only somewhere five-six maybe, Zio had no idea. He didn't even have a clock, why would he, anyway. His umbrella was slightly torn by the winds, but it's tempura-colored material and cheerful red "Frank Fisherman changes you to a battle!" logo still made it look uplifting in this weather. Well, god bless Frank Fisherman, because Zio Uncool Trainer Zio sure as hell would't change anyone to a battle anytime soon unless he got a Pokémon, and that's why he was standing outside this small building in the rain, hoping for thunder to strike him down or anything, anything to make his hands stop shaking in their worn, ugly fingerless gloves. The door seemed to be laughing at him. Zio was sure it was a Ditto. Which didn't exactly made him feel much better, what if the whole building was just one big, hungry Ditto? He had seen a horror movie about that once. He better go back. His mother sure must be worried. She was the sweetest woman alive, really. She would't want him to be eaten by a Ditto. Or anything purple. She was the sweetest woman alive, but she DID NOT LIKE PURPLE. Had something to do with a Nidoking or something. He didn't ask, Zio.
He wasn't really sure about this, Zio. He'd rather, you know, find a Pokémon he got along with himself. He wasn't even sure he really wanted a Pokémon - it was a pretty big thing, right? But the boat had taken him here, and it wasn't like he had any Pokéballs to catch one with himself. But still... It didn't feel right. Hey, I'm Zio, and we're going to be best friends. Pft. The weather must be affecting him. Zio didn't like cold weather. But he didn't like this building and their Pokémon much either, at least not the idea of it, so he simply did what feel right - screw Pokémon, let's get dinner. He was hungry, his hair was a mess, and it wasn't like those things was going anywhere anyway. Zio spun around, and walked back towards the habour instead - he still had some saggy hotdogs in his backpack, and hey, they might be great to the taste of artificial colored hair stuck in mouth and... What else he had. Probably rice. Rice was good. Some curry-bread. There was a place for camping somewhere along the coast, for those stupid fucks (Zio) that didn't know what a Pokémon Center was. He had seen it from the boat. It had a fireplace and a shelter that might actually be waterproof. He could eat soggy hotdogs and currybread alone, and think of what to do afterward. He didn't want to think about it. Should have thought about before, obviously, this Pokémon thing, but Zio was a social person that didn't like to be alone and thought cute warm things was the best, so he'd kinda assumed he'd go for something cute-looking and hope it worked out between them. He didn't want that now. They might not work out.
Oh screw this, Zio thought as he reached the shelter that turned out to be pretty waterproof after all, which was a good thing, because Zios shoulders was kind of DEAD, no, really, and there wasn't a matter of more then twenty minutes walking, but he had both his backpack and guitar and such... He really considered going back and ask if they had a stupid, nice, cute Pokémon he could use to carry his stuff and be nice to him. And he could win a lot of stuff and they would be really famous and his mother would be proud and Zio suddenly kinda felt like crying but he manfully willed it back by showing his mouth so full of currybread he choked and coughed and coughed. It echoed off the walls of the shelter. A big shelter. Probably meant for more then one person. Probably meant for Pokémon too. Zio turned up the volume on his IPod to a degree that would have killed a Jigglypuff. Im da master, he reminded himself. Would be, at least. Yo, world.
{haha, sorry, I just don't really think he's ready for a Pokémon the first thing he does, so I'll just have him... Walking around a bit. Ya know. Feel free to throw whatever you want at him. If it's eatable, he'll love ya.}