somewhere between the cruel and humane [tik]

[lou]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=style, width:300px; background-color:ddd; border-bottom:1px solid #aaa; padding:10 0;] [/style] [style=font-family:georgia; font-size:18px; text-transform:lowercase; color:#333; text-shadow:1px 0px 0px #eee; font-style:italic; font-weight:bold; text-align:center;]pixiv red sucks

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and i'm sacrificing my dignity with this thread

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It's a little town called Pallet, and people call it a haven. To Red, it's always been a prison. Surrounded by water on one end and violent creatures that could kill in a heartbeat on the other, Red has never, ever found himself staying here.

There's too much of his father in him, his mother used to say. He's too impatient, he's too eager, he's too confident. But Red's never taken any of it to heart. He walks with an easy confidence, because he's the best. All these years, only one challenger, a young woman with a Typhlosion, has been able to stand against him and make it worth his time.

But she's gone now. She failed, and he turned his back on her and never saw her again. He doesn't wonder about her. He just thinks of her trudging silently down the mountain, swallowing her battered pride.

If the Ursaring got her, then nothing would be lost. Red spares no compassion for weaklings.

He refuses to look at his old childhood home. He doesn't like the memories it brings back. He keeps his crimson eyes on the lab. Hopefully no one would recognize him. He's tall now, a bit more rugged from the mountain, and that stupid hat's been long gone for ages.

But there's still that same intensity and arrogance in his gaze. He's quieter now, having had no reason to prattle on as he used to do, but bits of the hot-headed youth that had burned through Kanto still show in his poise.

And he's not sorry for leaving. He's only loathing the return.

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MADE BY RIVER!, WHO IS FOREVER DOING THE HORSE DANCE

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[touko]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=style, width:300px; background-color:ddd; border-bottom:1px solid #aaa; padding:10 0;] [/style] [style=font-family:georgia; font-size:18px; text-transform:lowercase; color:#333; text-shadow:1px 0px 0px #eee; font-style:italic; font-weight:bold; text-align:center;]though we're down and out

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we won't let you win, won't let you in

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He wakes to a soft, insistent beeping. Squinting his eyes against the bright sun pouring in through the cracks in the blinds, Blue slowly climbs to his feet. He clumsily shoves his feet in the direction of his slippers, then gives up when one flies under the bed, out of reach. Not bothering to throw on a shirt, he shuffles towards the door, before realizing the sound is coming from his desk.

The light on his pokedex is blinking softly, and the little device is letting out beep after beep, faint but irritating. It’s probably low on batteries. How long has it been since he picked it up?

since the day he became champion. Since the day he came home. Since the day he abandoned training. They’re all the same.

There’s a pack of batteries in his desk drawer. He debates getting them out, but it’s easier just to flip the little pokedex over, yanking out the little door, and slip the batteries free. With a soft whine, it goes silent, the light abruptly going off. He drops the batteries on his desk, ignoring the one that rolls to the floor, and tries to head back to bed.

He can’t. He’s awake now, there’s sunlight leaving the room bright as day, and he’s suddenly all too aware of the noise from downstairs. Daisy must have friends over, because he can hear bright, chattering voices.

Force of habit leads him to grab his belt full of pokeballs as he lays out clothes and heads off to the shower. The last of his dignity is enough for him to dry and spike his hair after he gets out and dries off, but he’s glum and quiet as he pulls his clothes on, and he doesn’t bother to say a word to Daisy as he leaves the house.

There’s a little island-like block of land to the south of Pallet, if one surfs the small bit of water between it and the town. The perfect place to spend a little time in the company of his Pokemon- and away from the rest of the town. He makes for that water, a pokeball in hand.

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MADE BY RIVER!, WHO IS FOREVER DOING THE HORSE DANCE

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[proton]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=style, width:300px; background-color:ddd; border-bottom:1px solid #aaa; padding:10 0;] [/style] [style=font-family:georgia; font-size:18px; text-transform:lowercase; color:#333; text-shadow:1px 0px 0px #eee; font-style:italic; font-weight:bold; text-align:center;]come here to mend

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what's come before will come again

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He can smell the pond in the distance.

He remembers catching a Rattata on the first route. A Pidgey, too. He remembers the day that Rattata failed, and he left it, weakened, on the route. The Pidgey's gone too, passed into the hands of someone else. At the time he thought it had been sane. Now Red grimaces at the thought.

He still has no room for weakness, but there are better ways to force his tools to their maximum potential than the threat of abandonment. Suck a reckless child he used to be, speaking aloud to strangers and laughing at their problems because his were far more important.

And they call him a hero now. It almost brings a smile to his face, but he's been alone for so long that he's almost forgotten.

And there's something here he can't ignore. A face he's seen so many times before. And when he speaks, it almost makes his throat sore, because he's been alone so long and he's never had a need to call out for whatever silly reason.

"You."

There's no expression on his face. He swallows again, wetting his throat. There, much better.

"You're a gym leader now."

He says it with a note of disbelief, perhaps a bit of disdain.

And it shows that even though he's quieter now, even though he's not getting up in Blue's face and screaming at the top of his lungs, he's still Red.

And he's still mocking his old rival. It doesn't show on his lips, but it shows in his eyes.

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MADE BY RIVER!, WHO IS FOREVER DOING THE HORSE DANCE

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[lessa]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=style, width:300px; background-color:ddd; border-bottom:1px solid #aaa; padding:10 0;] [/style] [style=font-family:georgia; font-size:18px; text-transform:lowercase; color:#333; text-shadow:1px 0px 0px #eee; font-style:italic; font-weight:bold; text-align:center;]I'm an old abandoned church

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with broken pews and empty aisles.

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There he is.

He’s so used to that rush of panic that he instinctively holds his breath to try to stay calm. Every time he sees Red, disaster isn’t far behind. Every time he sees Red, his little, hard-earned victories fall by the wayside. Everything he fights for, Red takes from him in instants.

But there’s nothing left for Red to take.

He smiles. It even reaches his eyes.

“I was.”

Briefly. Even with his champion title stripped away, even with nothing left to phone home about (not that Daisy ever picks up) or tell his Grandfather about (red filled the pokedex first), he’d given it a second try. He’d pulled himself out of his slump, taken back his hasty vow to leave training behind, and taken a position as the leader of Viridian City gym.

It lasted two months before he walked out.

It’s petty, but he can’t help but ask. “Did you come all the way back to challenge it? You’re a few months too late.”

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MADE BY RIVER!, WHO IS FOREVER DOING THE HORSE DANCE

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[proton]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=style, width:300px; background-color:ddd; border-bottom:1px solid #aaa; padding:10 0;] [/style] [style=font-family:georgia; font-size:18px; text-transform:lowercase; color:#333; text-shadow:1px 0px 0px #eee; font-style:italic; font-weight:bold; text-align:center;]the world on my own terms

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give me disease but not the germs

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There are always things left to take.

And yet Red finds nothing worth his time in his old rival's stance. He's not even sure if he can use the term 'rival' anymore. That would imply that Blue was on his level, capable of standing on the same ground with him. And Blue isn't.

Red's face remains stoic, though there's a definite hint of mockery beneath his words. "No thanks. I've better things to do than beat you down again." Then, slightly cutting, as if he knows this will sting. "I'm here to talk to your grandfather. We've always been close, after all."

There's no room for mercy in Red's world, either.

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MADE BY RIVER!, WHO IS FOREVER DOING THE HORSE DANCE

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[lamarck]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=style, width:300px; background-color:ddd; border-bottom:1px solid #aaa; padding:10 0;] [/style] [style=font-family:georgia; font-size:18px; text-transform:lowercase; color:#333; text-shadow:1px 0px 0px #eee; font-style:italic; font-weight:bold; text-align:center;]every minute is a mile

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This time there’s nothing for Red to take- but that’s a pyrrhic victory in and of itself, isn’t it? And then Red speaks, and Blue realizes, there is something left for him to take. He’s taken his Grandfather’s affection, won it away years ago, but then he’d left. And while Blue had never been subject to the praise and encouragement Oak lavished on Red, he’d been at least able to salvage something. An errand here. A day helping clean the lab there. Little moments with Oak, even if all he did was prattle on about the latest news of Red. Now that Red’s back, that’s over. There’ll be no place for Blue.

Unless he can find one. Unless he can dig his way in, unless he can get Red to pull him in- because that’s how this works, doesn’t it? Everything he has, Red takes, but Red could just as easily carry him along if he wanted. Blue doesn’t need, knows he can never have, the spotlight. All he’s asking for are Red’s scraps.

“Let me go with you,” because a casual offer to accompany him would be turned down, wouldn’t it? Wouldn’t pan out even if Red agreed. He’s asking his permission, and it’s pathetic, but he’s spent the last month doing little more than eating, sleeping, and breathing. He sold his dignity when he spent that first day in bed, staring aimlessly at the ceiling, realizing he’d just walked out of the last thing left in his life. He doesn’t even know who took over the gym. He doesn’t even care.

And Red can’t turn him down, can he? Because what Red needs is someone to outdo, someone whose dreams he can take and shatter. Blue remembers that day back on route one, he remembers watching Red battle. He remembers watching Red release his Pidgey after it was defeated, after it was knocked out trying to fight for him. He remembers watching the bird stumble off dizzily, before finally taking flight.

He’d flown too, as far as he could, leaving Red behind. But wherever he went, Red followed. He had failed hundreds of times, but there was still no release in sight.

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MADE BY RIVER!, WHO IS FOREVER DOING THE HORSE DANCE

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[proton]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=style, width:300px; background-color:ddd; border-bottom:1px solid #aaa; padding:10 0;] [/style] [style=font-family:georgia; font-size:18px; text-transform:lowercase; color:#333; text-shadow:1px 0px 0px #eee; font-style:italic; font-weight:bold; text-align:center;]ghosts and clouds

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and nameless things

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He should be kind, but kindness hasn't gotten him this far. He should be merciful, but mercy exposes the throat. Red doesn't need to help Blue. He tells himself he can let Blue watch from outside.

But Red doesn't believe in unnecessary cruelty. That's a waste of energy. Much like smiling or laughing when there's no one around. Every heartless action he performs, Red likes to think, has a purpose. Making Blue suffer when Blue knows his place... Now that's hardly something he should do.

"He didn't say I should bring someone," says Red, "but he didn't say I shouldn't, either." He shrugs. "Guess if you must."

He's become so stiff and formal.

Maybe he needs to start talking again.

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MADE BY RIVER!, WHO IS FOREVER DOING THE HORSE DANCE

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[lamarck]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=style, width:300px; background-color:ddd; border-bottom:1px solid #aaa; padding:10 0;] [/style] [style=font-family:georgia; font-size:18px; text-transform:lowercase; color:#333; text-shadow:1px 0px 0px #eee; font-style:italic; font-weight:bold; text-align:center;]the harpoon is loaded

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the cage is lowered

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Red sounds indifferent, as if it doesn't matter to him. Blue wishes he had the luxury of apathy, of not having a fully formed opinion of Red. But when Red’s chosen to entwine himself with Blue, to weave in and out of his path, that’s not an option.

He hopes what he’s feeling is hate. Because if that’s a tinge of gratitude welling up in him, gratitude at being able to visit his own grandfather…

It’s not a long walk, but Blue feels awkward by the time they’ve taken the first step. Lately, he doesn’t have the energy for his usual brash proclamations, but he’s still so uncomfortable with silence. And Red is, as always, terse and taciturn. He has no words to spare for his old rival, does he?

“… So, you were away a long time, weren’t you? I was starting to think you’d never come back.”

That’s a dangerous path. It’s apparent that he was hoping that. He shifts the subject.

“Were you really living up on Mt. Silver all by yourself?”

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MADE BY RIVER!, WHO IS FOREVER DOING THE HORSE DANCE

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[proton]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=style, width:300px; background-color:ddd; border-bottom:1px solid #aaa; padding:10 0;] [/style] [style=font-family:georgia; font-size:18px; text-transform:lowercase; color:#333; text-shadow:1px 0px 0px #eee; font-style:italic; font-weight:bold; text-align:center;]are you made of calcium

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if you're made of calcium i'll have to take a taste

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"Yes."

He says it so matter-of-factly. Doesn't everyone enjoy hypothermia? Red's never been afraid of the extreme conditions.

"And I'm only back for a while." Because Red already feels confined. He's already looking around at the trees and the pond and he already knows he hates it here.

"For an hour, maybe, two at most."

With no time to spare for his mother.

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MADE BY RIVER!, WHO IS FOREVER DOING THE HORSE DANCE

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[archer]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=style, width:300px; background-color:ddd; border-bottom:1px solid #aaa; padding:10 0;] [/style] [style=font-family:georgia; font-size:18px; text-transform:lowercase; color:#333; text-shadow:1px 0px 0px #eee; font-style:italic; font-weight:bold; text-align:center;]I've never felt so hollow

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An hour or two. He’s waited so long for Red to be gone, for Red to be out of his life, but he doesn’t have a life anymore, does he? Everything he had has long since fallen by the wayside. Red is, ironically, his last tie to how things were, how they should have been. It’s paradoxical, but he finds he doesn’t want him to go.

They’re at the door. Blue almost reaches for it, but Red’s the one leading them here, Red’s the one his grandfather wants to see. He hangs back and waits.

“I’m sure everyone will be glad to see you. Your mother must be worried.” There’s a dry, bitter note in his voice. He’s tried talking to her a few times, thinking that perhaps with Red gone for so long… But she isn’t Oak, she won’t accept a substitute. She’s still convinced that any day now, he’ll be back, back for good.

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MADE BY RIVER!, WHO IS FOREVER DOING THE HORSE DANCE

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