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Appetite; Solo RP
Topic Started: 11 Feb 2013, 09:23 AM (369 Views)
Posted Image InsecureJolthead
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Pokemon Declaration

Roscuro stopped walking.

The shadows that veiled his vision were slowly receding back to the trees they were bound to, intimidated by the rising sun. To her, however, Roscuro raised his head high, waiting for her blessing of light to shine upon his eyes. He could eventually see her from behind the trees, stretching her limbs from her long rest. Slowly she rose from her bed on the horizon, letting her radiant locks loose in the dark sky. Roscuro viewed the spectacle in silent awe, his love for the beauty growing deeper.

The sun began to reclaim her throne in the sky, spreading her reign to the entire forest. Her rays passed over the sleeping forest inhabitants, quietly encouraging them to wake up. And to the little Pokémon, who had waited patiently for her full arrival, she bequeathed a lone ray that crept towards his pupils.

For a moment, there was only white. Everything else- the world, the forest, his being- no longer existed.

How pure. How lovely.



This was wrong.



Bowing his head, Roscuro retreated to the security of the shadows. They caressed the critter with their branched limbs, as he fluttered the blinding white out of his eyes. The world soon returned to him, his vision once again filled with the silhouettes of the trees that defined the forest. Slight movements in the distance indicated Pokémon waking up from their sleep, preparing themselves for the day to pass.

Roscuro was disturbed: This was all wrong.

He shouldn’t be awake this early.



Solemn stomps guided by his sensitive antennae replaced the bug’s normally jovial step. Weaving around the debris littered on the forest floor, Roscuro could only think about his friend.

The first sign that something was wrong was that he didn't have a bed time story the previous night. Each evening, as Roscuro was sent out to hear the night's tale, he would notice Cyril's eyes would light up with excitement as he flipped through his notes, hunting for a story to entertain them both. It was difficult to miss the passion in his voice as the story was told, and his accompanying body movements further proved his enthusiasm. To hear nothing but the fire cracking as the duo ate dinner gave the night an eerie mood.

The second was Cyril himself. Upon freeing him from his capsule that morning, the young man only stared at Roscuro. Normally the nincada loved attention from his partner; this instance, however, had made him feel uncomfortable. No greeting was given, nor the concerned instruction to return to him after a set amount of time. He only looked down and gazed at him, not moving a muscle.

The third was the sunrise. The last time Roscuro had witnessed the sun’s awakening was with an aging man with a rough voice and gentle hands. Ever since he was paired with his new partner, he was only released at mid-day for lunch, late afternoon for exploring, and at night for a story. Despite their brief time together, Roscuro had already accepted this pattern as the norm; to break this sequence didn’t seem to be something Cyril would purposely initiate without warning.

He may not be the smartest bug, but his experience with Frisk had taught him that strange behavior from humans meant that something was wrong. It also meant that they wouldn’t admit to him that there was a problem.

<Humans are irritating in that way,> Roscuro thought as he climbed over an undulating root. <Of course,>

His footsteps paused.

<Even if they said something, what could I do to help?>


(Edits: Changed "its" to "their," three sentences before the break; changed "and eerie mood" to "an eerie mood," second paragraph after the break; Added "Ever" before "Since he was," fourth paragraph after the break.)
(2nd Edit: Added 'Pokemon Declaration' spoiler. I'm sorry it took so long for me to add it, and I understand if I will be penalized for it.)
Edited by InsecureJolthead, 15 Apr 2013, 09:42 PM.
Cyril Whitetune • Story Teller • Total EXP Gained: 16 • PokeDollars: 3,378 *poke* • Location: Skytouch Forest, East Godai

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Cyril didn’t care that the sun serviced him in the past- he refused to be part of her kingdom.

Back pressed against the tree behind him, Cyril tightened his embrace on his folded legs as he leaned his head forward to rest on his knees. Through half-closed eyes, he glared at the ground before him. The sun was spreading her rays around the forest, her goal to claim the location as her own. However, her majestic rays were being screened by the canopy, reducing them into patches of various sizes upon reaching the ground. They dotted the forest floor in the random patterns that Cyril had admired during the first few days of his venture into Skytouch. One mosaic in particular lay before him, as if beckoning him to extend his legs and be blessed by her light.

He pressed his legs closer.

In the pocket of shade Cyril sat for minutes on end, the slow rise and fall of his chest the only indication he was alive. No; not alive. He was physically living, true, but he refused to believe he was alive. Being alive meant being vitalized with a purpose, having the motivation to live for that purpose, and doing anything to fulfill that purpose.

To Cyril, being alive meant finding stories to tell.

A week ago he would have considered himself alive. Entering the forest on his own for the first time excited him, driving him deeper into the collection of trees. Surrounding himself in an entirely new environment, Cyril sincerely believed that he would walk out of the thicket of wild life, needing to purchase a new notepad.

Yet the forest proved to be a great disappointment to him. While the environment was certainly interesting, nothing out of the ordinary occurred: the plant life was flourishing, as it should be this time of the year, while Pokémon were going about their daily lives, paying no heed to the human who watched them carefully. The forest was as pure as can be, save for his presence. In fact, Cyril couldn’t recall meeting other humans in the woods- none at all.

As such, the last five pages of his pad were merely observations of the forest, many of which were common behaviors of its inhabitants. These observations weren’t stories in the slightest- they were scenery, and nothing more. Of course, that didn’t bother Roscuro. The bug’s eyes would light up with awe over these descriptions, seduced into staying still. One of Roscuro's primary traits was that he was easily amused. It didn't matter what the content of the tale was.



How disgusting.
Revolting.
Putrid.
Nothing has ever made his stomach churn in-



A sigh of air exited his nostrils.

“Really, Cyril; going after Roscuro as the source of your woes? Are you alright?”

He allowed himself a small grin, though the thought still lingered in his mind: Was he alright?


For the past several days, Cyril endured a persistent headache that caused him to slow his pacing. He took frequent breaks, each one longer than the last, and used them to recover from sudden spells of fatigue. His attitude became more acerbic, as his tolerance for the wilderness decayed: on multiple occasions, Cyril wanted to scream at a root he stumbled on, a stray twig that scratched him, a Pokémon that threatened to make contact with his body; it was only through grudging effort that he managed to channel his rage through cold glares.

Roscuro annoyed him the most. The bug was always so cheerful when he was out of his Pokeball, relishing the nature surrounding them. Cyril would only stare in discontentment as the bug frolicked amongst the trees and bushes. To find so much joy over the same elements that made him melancholy, it was as if the pest was intentionally reminding him of his despair.

Yet, surprisingly, Cyril managed to hold back his irritation. He gave Roscuro reassuring smiles and words of concern whenever the young Pokémon was exploring. He tenderly laid food before him, and ate with the nincada in silence. He weaved a blanket of imagery with the notes gathered that day for the bug to snuggle and sleep into.

The first mental crack happened the previous night.

In his mind, Cyril reasoned that there was nothing to tell; that the day only provided the same scenes he had grown accustomed to. However, a mind that belonged to a bitter soul was never right. He wanted to watch Roscuro to squirm in the uncomfortable atmosphere, to make him as miserable as he was. In silent satisfaction, he eyed the bug jittering in anxiety as they ate a wordless dinner. The food that Cyril put into his mouth that night was bland; the food that he absorbed through his eyes was delectable.

He woke up earlier than usual, a craving sensation gnawing at his body. He was hungry again. Rolling the ball on the tips of his fingers, Cyril pondered as to how the urchin would react this time around. Perhaps he should take- no. No notes. Rule 1: No intentional manipulation of events.

But that didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy the show.

Flicking the orb into the air, he released Roscuro from his capsule. As the bug glanced around the dark surroundings, the sun not yet up, Cyril swiftly returned the ball into his pocket, and turned his head down towards him. With secret delight, he observed the bug groping around the area, trying to understand what was going on. What he didn’t anticipate was Roscuro making eye contact with him.

They were confused. They were sad. They were scared.

Bowing his head to the ground, Roscuro slowly walked away from the make-shift campsite. Cyril’s eyes didn’t follow him. They were looking down at the ground.



He felt awful.



He still felt awful.

Roscuro had done nothing to deserve that type of treatment from him. His frustration over not finding a story didn't stem from his partner. It was… unimportant.

Cyril stood up, stretching his limbs and dusting his pants in the sunlight.

He needed to find Roscuro.
Cyril Whitetune • Story Teller • Total EXP Gained: 16 • PokeDollars: 3,378 *poke* • Location: Skytouch Forest, East Godai

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---
<Step 1: Have a clear view of your victim without being in plain sight.>
---




<Don’t worry, Blitzle, I’m sure he’s fine.>

Her mouth twitched into a smile, causing the cheri berries dangling from her lips to sway. Yes, of course Pachirisu was okay. He was never the best at keeping his promises concerning curfew, but in the end he always managed to arrive without a hair on his coat lost. Any moment now, she’ll see the elesquirrel in the horizon, scurrying towards the tree they agreed to meet at, a berry as big as his head carried by its stem with his teeth.

That would block his vision.

Making him oblivious to any obstacles in his path.

Potentially making him trip.

And hit a sleeping Snorlax.

That would roll over in his sleep on top of Pachirisu, squishing the poor guy and rendering him helpless for hours as he squirms around trying to find a pocket of air to breathe in and-

<For the love of everything good in this world- where are you?!>



---
<Step 2: Double check your surroundings to confirm that there are no obstacles in your way.>
---




where are you

where are you


where are you

re are you


are you

you


Blitzle jolted her head back, taken aback by the forest’s mockery. Where was she? She was where she needed to be: in front of the pine whose top could not be seen, whose towering height dwarfed the surrounding trees. It was Pachirisu that was lost, not her.

…Right?



---
<Step 3: Make sure your target is relaxed and suspects nothing.>
---




Taking a moment to absorb her surroundings, she acknowledged how still the forest was. The usual the hum from bug pokemon beating their wings at rapid speeds still floated high above her, yet without the layer of sounds from the ground level to accompany the droning buzz, the forest didn’t feel like her home.

There was no doubt in Blitzle’s mind that most their neighbors were still asleep. After all, she deliberately woke up early than normal with Pachirisu to complete their task without much disturbance. She hadn’t paid much heed to how much time had already passed, but surely if the other pokemon in the area were still resting in their homes, then it couldn’t have been that long.

It never occurred to her how easily her home could transform into an entirely different place based on the time of day. Despite its unfamiliarity, Blitzle found that she was fond of the serene forest morning. Perhaps she should wake up early on a regular basis.



---
<Step 4:>
---




The cheri berries fell to the ground as a confused yelp exited her mouth.

The projectile came from above, hitting the center of the right side of her nuzzle with impressive accuracy. Her head, under the will of the throw, twisted sharply to the right; the rest of her thin frame followed suit. She instinctively tried to retain her balance by crossing her right limbs over her left, but the attempt had only sealed her fate: with a graceless crash, Blitzle was on the forest floor.

Her heart beat rapidly in her chest as the rush of adrenaline through her body overpowered her sensibility. The young pokemon flailed her bony legs wildly in the air, confused as to why her hooves weren’t making contact with the ground.

She had to get away. The monster was coming. She had to get away. The monster was going to capture her. She had to get away. The monster was going to devour her.She had to get awayShe had to get awaygetawaygetawaygetawayget-

<Um, don’t overdo it, I suppose… Oops.>

She stopped kicking the air upon hearing the familiar squeaks. Pachirisu was scurrying down the tree he had hidden himself in straight towards her, eyes wide in anxiety. The pounding in her chest slowed as she slowly picked herself off the ground, shaking her body to remove the debris that clung onto her coat. Pachirisu paused to sigh in relief, and quickly closed the gap between him and his monochrome companion. <Oh geez, Blitzle, that wasn’t supposed to happen! Sorry about that--- um, Blitze?>

Head held high and posture erect, the victim glared down at the perpetrator. First he made her wait for Arceus knows how long, with only worry for this jerk lingering in her mind. When she finally managed to calm herself down, he threw – her eyes flickered to the ground- a oran berry right to her face! Now this idiot thought he could make up for throwing her down on her side with a simple apology?! She was up to her limit with this insensitive, thoughtless, selfish, egotistical-

<Moron!>

The smaller pokemon’s head flinched downwards, face hidden in his stubby arms, awaiting his punishment.

The space between his ears suddenly felt warm.

Blitzle tenderly nuzzled her friend.

<I’m glad you’re safe.>


Pachirisu stared at Blitzle’s mane, mesmerized by its bobbing motion as she walked. Always on the go, he had always paid little heed to his companion’s appearance; after being persuaded to accept her offer to ride on her back, he found that her looks was the only thing he could think of.

White stripes, white mane, white tail, but black coat. Against the dark fur, her white features were sharp and pure; conversely, the bright details made her black coat look bold and deep. White and black worked well with one another, he noticed.

Wait.

She had a black coat.

He had a white coat.

Black and white.

White and black.

White and black worked well with one ano-

He squished his face on the berry he was clutching between his paws, its cool surface feeling heavenly to his reddening cheeks.

<Do you think we gathered enough, Pachirisu?> Blitzle asked through clenched teeth biting down on the dangling cheri berries.

<You kidding me?> He began as he lifted his head, secretly relieved to be distracted from his thoughts. <Our pile would satisfy the hungriest snorlax in the forest! Don’t worry, Blitzle, we did great.>

<But Slakoth said that the Beast was far more dangerous than any pokemon in the forest,> Her tone suddenly elevated. <If it’s not pleased, it’ll destroy our home!>

That’s right: the Beast.

Ever since their encounter with Slakoth the day before, Blitzle was higher strung than she normally was: walking slower and with more rigid steps, jumping into an offensive stance at the slightest noise, staying by his side any opportunity she could get, the poor thing was almost more of a nervous wreck than when they first met. Not that he could blame her.

Nonetheless, the mischief-maker did his best to ease the worrisome creature.

<I know what Slakoth said, Blitzle, but relax, will you?> Pachirisu began, hopping over the oran berry to lean his back against Blitzle’s neck.

<We started getting food really early this morning to avoid most of the competition, and heck, he was pretty astonished by how much we collected so far! Dunno why he told us to go deeper into the forest to get these last two,> -He flicked the blue berry up in the air with his tail, and caught it gracefully as it descended back down- <But he said that they would be the last additions to the pile. Speaking of that guy, I still don’t understand why he could at least help us out here.>

<Well,> She stopped walking, and took a moment to think about the question before craning her head to look at her passenger; <It seemed that he was having a hard time himself, trying to make the food look presentable, especially since earlier we were giving berries to him at a pretty quick rate. Maybe that’s why he wanted us further away- poor guy was overwhelmed.>

Pachirisu wanted to sneer; he may not have known Slakoth for very long, but he knew a lazy pokemon when he saw one. <‘Make the food look presentable;’ what kind of an excuse is that? The Beast won’t pause to give props for how the food looks- it’s a beast! It’ll just guzzle down the food unceremoniously until it’s full, right?>

None of these thoughts were expressed to Blitzle. Truth of the matter was that he wasn’t sure of the nature of the Beast. He hadn’t seen nor heard of this creature before until Slakoth told the two of them about it the previous day; he initially thought that the drooped-eyed pokemon was lying, but Blitzle’s expression of dread told him that the demon was anything but imaginary.
he’s gone, he’s gone
He didn’t know much about the Beast, and poor Blitzle’s heart would give out if she had to concentrate on describing the monster to him; all he knew was that it existed.

<Besides, he’s the one who has to give it; I say we have the easy job, Pachirisu.>

The smaller pokemon let out a small scoff. <Psh, whatever you say.>

The two exchanged presents of silence with one another, and opened their ears to receive the other pokemon’s gift. Blitzle’s was a sweet melody of motherly concern, wrapped under layers of hesitance. Pachirisu wished that she wouldn’t open his parcel of loud, garbled anxiety, hoping that she would be turned off by the packaging of apathy. Unfortunately, Blitzle’s sharp ears could hear the fretfulness screaming underneath its casing.

<What's wrong?>

His lips tightened. A lot of things were preoccupying mind: Slakoth, the Beast, berries, black and white, white and black-

<Pa->

<Are you okay, Blitzle?>

A whinny of confusion rumbled in her throat.

A turn of his head to the right prevented Blitzle from seeing his face. <From earlier- when I hit you by accident.> His tone became uncharacteristically gentler; <I’m sorry. It was stupid, and it wasn’t supposed to happen as it did. Can you forgive me?>

He could hear her smile. <I already have, you Moron.>

Pachirisu had to steady himself as Blitzle suddenly resumed walking. Her steps were more relaxed than before, supposedly lightened from the satisfaction of reassuring him- and even herself, he suspected- of their friendship. Even her voice was a hair more vibrant as she addressed him.

<Though, you haven’t given a reason why you even did that in the first place.>

His mischievous smirk reappeared on his pink face.

<To make you smile.>


Introduced Pokemon
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Blitzle
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Pachirisu

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Cyril Whitetune • Story Teller • Total EXP Gained: 16 • PokeDollars: 3,378 *poke* • Location: Skytouch Forest, East Godai

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“Roscuro?”


“Roscuro!?”

“Roscuro?”

“Roscurooo?”

“Roscuro??”




“Roscurooo!?”



“RoscuuURO!!!



Merely seconds after it was born, the scream was swallowed by the silence.

All at once, multiple sensations attacked the fallen man’s body: The feeling of suffocation as the breath was knocked out of him; the pain from the collision with the ground becoming sharper with each moment that passed; the unpleasant chill of the cold ground touching his feverish skin; the throbbing headache that plagued his mind made more intense, more spiteful, more torturous...

Using his elbows as support, Cyril hastily picked his torso up from the cold ground, wincing only for a moment at the surge of pain that briefly numbed his mind. Eyes wild with fury, he immediately twisted his head to look back at the obstacle that had tripped him.

His gaze landed upon an undulating tree root, ensnaring his right foot.

This wasn’t the first time he had been a victim to this forest’s antics. Throughout his search, Cyril noticed that these situations increased in frequency the further he went. It was true that he was feeling a bit under the weather, but he knew that it was not his condition to blame for his increased clumsiness. No, the real perpetrator was the forest itself- he was sure of it. The way these annoying pranks grew in their concentration… it was toying with him. He could feel the trees’ condescending gaze as they bemused over how weak he was, how the bushes and shoots giggled amongst each other over his helplessness. He knew- ha ha, yes, he absolutely positive- the entire forest was against him, playing these irritating pranks on him, wanting to see how far they could go before the storyteller lost his cool.

Now, as he leaned on the forest floor- regaining air in his lungs, pain numbing his chest, head throbbing, freezing, burning- Cyril knew he couldn’t take much more of this humiliation. His tolerance for such pranks had long since passed its limit, and was only through the remainder of his faltering self-control that he was able to- just barely- hold his emotions in. But oh, how they longed for release: to commandeer his frail figure, transforming him into a savage, a creature that knew nothing- not reason, not rational thought, not morals- but the ecstasy of rage. His agitated soul yearned to roar, to weep, to make others understand-

But that would mean triumph for his tormentor. And though he had no will within himself to gain the upper hand against the forest, he nonetheless refused to give it the satisfaction of victory.

Squeezing whatever willpower remained in his soul, Cyril relaxed his body, freed his mind from all thoughts, and focused only on steadying his breath.

In.



Out.



In.



Out.



In.


Cyril crawled backwards,


Out.


slowly untangled his foot from the undulating root,


In.


and sat back against the tree






its jagged bark digging into his back.

Growl.

Cyril’s body tensed once more as his anger grew, enraged that it was being resisted, suppressed, held back. Without hesitation, he folded his legs inward, while burying his clammy hands into his face, as the feeling of disorder swelled in his chest.

This was it. He hadn’t the strength to fight on much longer. Control over his body began to slip as his breath grew more rigid, heels dug into the earth, hands slammed on his thighs-

Cyril's eyebrows twitched upward. He had completely forgotten it was in his pocket.

Though the storm within him was far from being calmed, control over his body returned to him as he used his left hand to pull out the notepad. His right hand fingers tenderly glided over the laminated cover, as if touching something sacred.

For dragging moments, the only thing the man did was stare at the pad. He didn't notice that his lips had curved into a small grin.

He positioned his right thumb on the bottom edge of the pad-



The thumb hesitated.



Wait. Roscuro was still missing. He had to come first.

"story story tell a story"

The smile he wore bent backwards into an indecisive frown.

"hungry starving feed me feed me"

But the nincada was the entire reason why he set forth in the first place.

"quick one quick one it won't be long"

"A...quick story..." Cyril breathed, repeating his soul's demand. Yes, a brief tale shouldn't hurt; a temporary escape from reality should surely ease his temper, and it had been a while since he last told a proper one for himself. Besides, Roscuro could wait for a bit.

"openitopenitopenitopenit"

The story teller carefully lifted the sheets, opening to a random page. As his eyes read over the hastily scribbled words written on the page, the smell of alcohol wafted into his nostrils...
Cyril Whitetune • Story Teller • Total EXP Gained: 16 • PokeDollars: 3,378 *poke* • Location: Skytouch Forest, East Godai

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The burrow hidden under the tangle of roots seemed cozy enough: there was plenty of space for a few pokemon his size, a section off to the side where gathered food would be stored (currently empty), the floor was clear of debris, and most importantly, there was no one there to ward him away.

Darn it.

Roscuro brushed his antennae around the nest once more, making sure he didn’t miss any secret crevices pokemon may be hiding in; yet even from the start, he knew his search would be fruitless. Within minutes, the nincada retreated out from underneath the tree, his heart filled with an expected disappointment.

Quieter and quieter Skytouch became the more he wandered. At first he suspected that the silence was attributed to the sun not yet waking the pokemon from their slumber. However, as the sight of beams of light touching the ground increased in frequency, Roscuro slowly reached a new revelation: his presence warded the pokemon away. Why wouldn’t this be the case? It had been that way ever since he was introduced to the forest: squeaking signals such as “run,” and “monster,” Pokemon nearby would scurry away as soon as he got near, daring not to attack. The realization that others were easily intimidated by him felt good at first, and he would raise his thorax before the frightened pokemon as a gesture of his power.

Roscuro took a moment to pause and take in the forest’s silence. Word must have gotten around that a strange new beast had plagued their serene forest, scaring everyone from the area. Rather than feel the same sense of pride he had felt in the past, the ends of his claws tingled with anxiety, as a second epiphany hit him: He was all alone.

<Just great,> the bug moaned. <Now how am I going to know the time?>


Time had seemed to lose all relevance when Roscuro had weaved aimlessly through the forest, lost in a winding trail of thoughts; eventually a point was reached where his thoughts had reached a dead end, snapping the nincada back to reality. As he had observed the area around him, his blurred view was filled with unfamiliar trees- not that there were familiar trees in the first place. No, it had not worried Roscuro that he didn’t know where he was; in a forest as vast as the one he was in, he had expected that getting lost was something unavoidable.

What did become his concern, however, was the degree of how lost he was: Was the campsite only a look to the left plus a few steps? Or did have to head to the second tree to the right and straight on till whenever? To find that out- or at the very least, give him a rough idea- Roscuro needed to know how long he had been wandering. He wished he could look up to the sun for the time, but he knew that the thick canopy above shielded her from his view. His reliance then shifted over to the residents of the forest; that is, if there were any.



The path Roscuro tread on seemed to narrow with each step he took; before long, he found himself sandwiched between two grassy slopes that threatened to swallow him up. Yet before Roscuro could pay mind to his ravenous environment, he stopped in his tracks as he jolted upwards.

<Hello?>

Though no reply was given, the nincada's heart fluttered. He heard it, he knew he heard it! A soft growl, barely loud enough to be considered a sound, had reached his tympana. Somebody had to be near by, he could feel it from the pit of his...

Oh.

Ooooooh.

What began as a light chuckle quickly evolved into a bitter groan. <Now I know what time it is,> he whimpered. <Lunchtime!>

A sigh. <I've been out that long already? Geez, its going to take a while to go->

<Back.>

Roscuro stiffened. Automatically, his mind transported him back to the moment he had woken up...

The dirt his claws probed into nipped at his exoskeleton in an icy manner. The bark his antennae glided over had a weary character, its hide rough and its wrinkles deep. The debris that his hind legs crunched on provided the world dead melodies as they waited to absorbed back into the earth. These sensations proved to him indefinitely that he was as far from asleep as possible.

There was something that didn’t sit well with the bug; from the back of his mind, he heard his conscience warn that there was something odd about this situation. Maybe if he shifted over to the left a bit…

Why was it lighter here? No, it couldn’t be, the bug thought as he went back to the right.

It was; it was lighter there, and darker here. He was under a shadow.

What was making the shadow? No, not what, Roscuro realized, but who; who was making the shadow? He brought his head upwards, a wide grin on his face. His heart fluttering with absolute relief, knowing that it was his only his friend, and that he was being absolutely silly earlier because he must had been let out because it must be meal time, for there was no other time it could possibly be, and he was let out for some fresh air and for his friend to tell him that he was a good little bug, and-

Why….

Why was he staring at him?




He squeezed his eyes shut. <No, stop it!> he chastised himself through gritted teeth. <Stop thinking about what happened!>



Cyril’s eyes became clearer as Roscuro’s pupils adjusted to the lighting.



He began shaking his head violently and pressed his eyelids tighter together.



The golden orbs communicated disdain for the bug, silently jeering at his confusion, insecurities, false hopes for a friend-




<STOP!>




As his cry faded between the trees, Roscuro found that his eyes were wide open, the natural forest filling his view. The illusion was broken; he was far away from the condescending eyes.

The trainee pokemon took a step forward, his eyes raised straight ahead. <You know what? I’m tired of being scared of Cyril!> He took another resolute step. <I’m going to go up to him, and snap him out of his grumpy mood one way or another!>



Left.

Right.

Left.

Right.



<I’ll hug his foot, and then he’ll kick me for it, but that’s okay because I’ll laugh even though I’ll probably be in a lot of pain because I’ll know that I have my friend back, and he’ll see me laughing and he’ll laugh too!>



Left. Right.

Left. Right.



<Then my tummy will growl and he’ll hear it and realize that his tummy is growling as well, and he’ll take out some food for us and as we eat he’ll try talking to me and then he’ll apologize for being ‘awkward,’ but doesn’t have to because he’s the best talker in the world!>



Left. Right. Left. Right. Left. Right. Left. Right.



<Yeah, that’s how it’ll go! I’ll do it! I’ll help Cyril! I’ll help him! I'llllllwoah!!!>

Because his head was raised high, Roscuro didn't immediately get the opportunity to see the object he had stumbled over. He staggered a few steps away from the obstacle, and hastily turned to face the object, his stance strong and ready for combat; a laugh escaped his mouth as he loosened his posture, realizing what he had gotten worked up over.

Roscuro crawled closed to the pecha berry, allowing his antennae to tenderly probe the fruit; despite tripping over the soft fruit, the berry fortunately did not suffer any bruises. Other than flicks of dirt that clung on its skin, its pink skin remained pure, easily seducing Roscuro to come closer.

The situation was rather curious: there were no other pieces of fallen fruit, nor were there any pecha berry trees to be seen nearby. It could have been that a forest pokemon had dropped it, but the berry had been removed from its tree a while ago; why didn’t anyone reclaim the berry as their own? The signs of an unusual predicament were lain before Roscuro, spelling out for the bug pokemon that something was off about the situation.

For example: Why wasn’t this berry already in his stomach?

Eyes shut for the purpose of having his sense of taste be the predominant sense, Roscuro leaned towards the berry with his drool-coated tongue hanging out. As his mouth made contact, he could feel the berry lift him off his feet as it took him away to a brighter place.

<W e l l...w e l l...w e l l,...y o u ’ r e...n o t...a...f a m i l i a r...f a c e.>

Literally.
Cyril Whitetune • Story Teller • Total EXP Gained: 16 • PokeDollars: 3,378 *poke* • Location: Skytouch Forest, East Godai

Cyril’s Pokemon
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