Post by tate & liza on Aug 2, 2013 22:31:30 GMT -5
Wake up at the crack of dawn, stretch and rise with the sun. Make sure not to wake Liza -- that was Very Important! -- and step on the one-way teleport pad into the restroom. Wash face, brush teeth, do your business, then step onto the tile that brings you into the Training Room: a space with light radiating from an unknown source, casting the white, padded walls in a flat, dimensionless glow. Tate took a deep breath.
The boy sat down in the center, his legs crossed as the lotus, and he began to meditate. Unlike his sister, whose Room was in absolute darkness, he couldn't properly relax without the omnipresent light -- nor could he work in the dead of night, as she did. He smiled to himself. They had formed a trade-off. As long as he didn't disturb her in the mornings, she wouldn't comment on how he trained and vice versa; it was difficult sometimes, with their frustrations occasionally spilling over and disturbing the other, but it was the best they could come up with.
His eyes closed and his breathing became regular. In, out. In, out. Breathe in his surroundings, breathe out his thoughts -- relax until everything was blank, just as he had been taught. It was only when there was no Self to interrupt his thoughts that Tate reached into the part of his mind where his power lay. First was exploration -- expand his mind to fill the room, taking into account each curve and dent in the walls. Then came the Gym, which was already bustling with activity at such an early hour. His mind brushed past the thoughts of those who had become used to his soft touch every morning, the whisper that told them he had passed by.
Tate made sure to avoid his sister's room.
With a final push, Tate's mind expanded to encompass Mossdeep. Most of Mossdeep was asleep at such an early hour, excepting the few who worked the graveyard shift (or perhaps the more unsavory residents of the city), and Tate was ready to pull back into the comfort of his own mind when particularly loud thoughts crossed his path. Curious in spite of himself -- what would Liza say if she knew he was getting distracted? -- the boy explored a bit more. The thoughts were confusing, everything melding together into a strange, mixed-up jumble, and he wondered what could possibly cause such a whacked-out train of thought.
The conclusion he came to made him blush.
Tate fell out of the air, his mind snapping back to him like a rubber band.
"Ooow." The boy rubbed his rear, glad for the padding on the floor. With the amount of times Tate had lost his concentration and hurt himself as a result, Liza had deemed it necessary to implement padding on all surfaces of the Training Rooms (and, as much as he hated to admit it, it was an excellent idea). Tate stood up, activating the mechanism that would bring him out of the Room, and glanced at the clock once he found the kitchen and shoved whatever food he could find into his mouth. "Eight-thirty," he mumbled. "Not bad." Better than nothing, anyway.
A glance out the window told him the day was going to be a beautiful one, and he grinned. Tate grabbed his pokeballs and dashed out the doors of the Gym, releasing his Metagross as he went. The boy jumped onto the pokemon's back, riding it as if it were a surfboard. "Let's see if we can't run people over today, Orion," Tate cackled. Or we could find a way to give Liza an amazing surprise when she wakes up.
notes anything bolded in salmon is tate's dialogue, and this is anything said telepathically, although it's usually just between tate & liza and their pokemon. (teal is liza's color.)
The boy sat down in the center, his legs crossed as the lotus, and he began to meditate. Unlike his sister, whose Room was in absolute darkness, he couldn't properly relax without the omnipresent light -- nor could he work in the dead of night, as she did. He smiled to himself. They had formed a trade-off. As long as he didn't disturb her in the mornings, she wouldn't comment on how he trained and vice versa; it was difficult sometimes, with their frustrations occasionally spilling over and disturbing the other, but it was the best they could come up with.
His eyes closed and his breathing became regular. In, out. In, out. Breathe in his surroundings, breathe out his thoughts -- relax until everything was blank, just as he had been taught. It was only when there was no Self to interrupt his thoughts that Tate reached into the part of his mind where his power lay. First was exploration -- expand his mind to fill the room, taking into account each curve and dent in the walls. Then came the Gym, which was already bustling with activity at such an early hour. His mind brushed past the thoughts of those who had become used to his soft touch every morning, the whisper that told them he had passed by.
Tate made sure to avoid his sister's room.
With a final push, Tate's mind expanded to encompass Mossdeep. Most of Mossdeep was asleep at such an early hour, excepting the few who worked the graveyard shift (or perhaps the more unsavory residents of the city), and Tate was ready to pull back into the comfort of his own mind when particularly loud thoughts crossed his path. Curious in spite of himself -- what would Liza say if she knew he was getting distracted? -- the boy explored a bit more. The thoughts were confusing, everything melding together into a strange, mixed-up jumble, and he wondered what could possibly cause such a whacked-out train of thought.
The conclusion he came to made him blush.
Tate fell out of the air, his mind snapping back to him like a rubber band.
"Ooow." The boy rubbed his rear, glad for the padding on the floor. With the amount of times Tate had lost his concentration and hurt himself as a result, Liza had deemed it necessary to implement padding on all surfaces of the Training Rooms (and, as much as he hated to admit it, it was an excellent idea). Tate stood up, activating the mechanism that would bring him out of the Room, and glanced at the clock once he found the kitchen and shoved whatever food he could find into his mouth. "Eight-thirty," he mumbled. "Not bad." Better than nothing, anyway.
A glance out the window told him the day was going to be a beautiful one, and he grinned. Tate grabbed his pokeballs and dashed out the doors of the Gym, releasing his Metagross as he went. The boy jumped onto the pokemon's back, riding it as if it were a surfboard. "Let's see if we can't run people over today, Orion," Tate cackled. Or we could find a way to give Liza an amazing surprise when she wakes up.
notes anything bolded in salmon is tate's dialogue, and this is anything said telepathically, although it's usually just between tate & liza and their pokemon. (teal is liza's color.)
