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POSTED ON Aug 22, 2021 20:19:17 GMT

Post morning workout, no shower, he'd made it here earlier than normal, earlier than they opened actually.

Luckily, one of the staff that recognized him let him in; the facility in full would be opening in an hour.

There was apparently some one else who wanted to use the facility early as well.

He didn't know who it was but the staff was willing to accommodate the Head Ranger if they were already doing it for someone else.

He washed himself, sat in the hot spring for thirty minutes, rinsed off and sat in the heated stone room.

With twenty minutes or so left until the facilities opened, the only other client in the building walked in.

● tags: FERNANDO SILPH
● notes: 951 Heat Points

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POSTED ON Aug 23, 2021 0:46:29 GMT

FRICTION BURN

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FERNANDO’S VACATION IS BARELY ONE AT ALL. Read, then write, receive a question, present and answer—find time to live somewhere inbetween the wait time. It’s why he rarely leaves his room aside from the occasional visit to the hot spring or massage room.

Today is no different. While the traditional employees sleep, Fernando burns on last night’s oil, wrapping up today’s agenda before sending it well ahead of business hours. Until they log in, he’s free to dawdle.

His first visit is the heated stone room. Having sampled it twice, he’s grown accustomed to the red welt they leave, only to wash away the comfort in a welcome lounge in the hot spring.

What he doesn’t anticipate is that someone has beaten him to the punch.

“Tch,” he comments when the door slides open. He doesn’t even spare Senon a glance, reaction aimed at the fact that someone—anyone really—is already here. The fact he doesn’t recognize the Head Ranger just yet staves off the awkward encounter.

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POSTED ON Aug 26, 2021 6:00:19 GMT

The heat was so staggering the redhead exhaled with a controlled and precise exhale; he like was blowing an old gaming cartridge.

For a moment he kept his eyes closed focusing on his breathing and building on his meditative state.

The humidity of the steam room made the heat so much harder to take. Best to go hard or go home.

Lifting off the wooden benching he went over pouring the available water over the partially glowing rocks.

Filling the room with humid steam before he could see just who entered.

● tags: FERNANDO SILPH
● notes: 827 Heat Points

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POSTED ON Aug 30, 2021 12:21:18 GMT

FRICTION BURN

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CONTRAST RELIES ON TWO TO MAKE A COMPARISON. Wherein Senon uses the getaway as a chance to better his mental state Fernando sees it as a way to ease his physical stress. Warmth seeps into his bodies and muscles relax against the slick of his own sweat.

There is no meditation for the Silph. Instead, he yawns, weary from a lethargic day of lounging around while glued to his laptop. MISTY TERRAIN bleeds from his pores, forming small beads of sweat as his portion of the sauna becomes invasive.

It lacks any distinct sound but the air becomes noticeably thicker and sweeter as his terrain spreads.

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POSTED ON Sept 5, 2021 19:02:38 GMT

FERNANDO SILPH likes this

An old tool from an old season in his life meditation provided an abyss he could throw his mind into for escape.

Cheaper than drugs, less addictive than video games. Or was it the other way around?

Granted the abyss was harder to conjure now; he had to focus a little harder these days to let everything "un-focus" appropriately.

There was always something stuck in his abyss now, stuck in the center of his mental 'space'.

()

His mental image of eternal darkness stained with the memory of Dialga staring him down. It wasn't easy to shake off, those cold eyes he'd gotten so close to.

If what he saw was the real it to begin with.

It sure as hell felt like it when it roared.

In the pitch black of his consciousness today, Sootopolis played back to matter how many times he tried to push it away. The ZAP CANNON that blasted him out of the fight (even with the electrical damage healed, on lessening occasions his muscles would still spasm) and the sight that distracted him into getting hit in the first place.

()

The close synapse thoughts of the two brought back that grating fixation on the third.

If the two of them were real...

As (allegedly) pink dragons entered his mind, pink wisps entered his nose providing a pink fog of mystery to his thoughts of the last of the creation trio.

Suddenly soon after, his self-awareness returned, breaking his meditation and jarring his eyes back open only to see the steam had been flavored cotton candy.

He couldn't remember why 'sweet pixie fumes where there are no pokémon' was so familiar.

● tags: FERNANDO SILPH
● notes: 825 Heat Points

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POSTED ON Sept 7, 2021 7:01:25 GMT

FRICTION BURN

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WEARINESS BECOMES DROWSINESS. Fernando’s towel starts to slip, still snug in a closely ties knot, but bordering his waist as he leans against the wood grain walls. Eye closed, he may be mistaken for meditation, but his head bobs on occasion, nodding off.

His consciousness might slip but his innate powers do not. They flourish as he sifts through the mental turmoil that comes with integrating with wt001. This time, the mist is harmless, but its color is heavy enough to obscure. The source is obvious with the way it flares with a certain direction.

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POSTED ON Sept 7, 2021 13:53:17 GMT

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What the hell even was this shit.

It smelled sweet, obviously he could even taste it on his tongue which kinda pissed him off, it felt invasive.

Not just that but apparently it was insistent as hell, more pink mist than white steam.

It swirled about one area moving outward.

Trying to piece together what he was looking at the obvious answer came to him and it was nostalgic as hell.

"Hey! Pass the candy cigarettes or put em away, dick." He would have lit his own candy-flavored roll if it wasn't really goofy health-wise to inebriate in a steam room.

Actual candy was a little more fair game; puff puff pass, ass.

● tags: FERNANDO SILPH
● notes: 816 Heat Points

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POSTED ON Sept 7, 2021 19:23:35 GMT

FRICTION BURN

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SENON’S CALLOUT BURSTS HIS BUBBLE. It causes his eyes to open wide, blinking several times as he gathers his bearings. There’s a certain sense of vulnerability that comes from falling asleep accidentally, that leaves him to adjust.

A few seconds later, when fully conscious, his MISTY TERRAIN retracts. It seems to dissipate, fading into obscurity, proving that Senon’s initial hypothesis was wrong. Or maybe it wasn’t? Who knows how quickly the smell and second hand smoke dissipates when left to aerate in a sauna?

“Apologies.”

Little does he know who he’s apologizing too, leaving the call empty and in the open without a clear line of sight.

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POSTED ON Sept 26, 2021 3:02:08 GMT

He was forcibly deflated by the apology. "Awwww, you gave up too easy. . ." Turns out he didn't actually want the pink coloring to go away as much as he simply wanted to bark at someone for it.

An apology went the distance but he would have settled for an explanation, assuming the source wasn't candy smokes.

He leaned back again against the wall as the pink wafting dissipated at its own pace.

"Now I feel like an ass for being confrontational." He couldn't pick Fernando's voice out of a crowd either.

● tags: FERNANDO SILPH
● notes: 808 Heat Points

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POSTED ON Sept 27, 2021 11:36:15 GMT

FRICTION BURN

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CONFUSION SETTLES OVER THE WRINKLES BETWEEN HIS BROWS. The way his face contorts shows his genuine reaction, unabated now that he knows it’ll remain unseen. As for the intention of the other person, he deems them less than stellar.

“Sounds like self realization,” he hums, playful in nature, or as playful as Fernando Silph could be.

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POSTED ON Sept 27, 2021 17:35:43 GMT

It started off as a twist in his cheek, a curl at the end of his lips. The muscle strain became too much to fight and his skin creased and dented a dimple formed on his right cheek. "Hahhhhh." Untethered he let himself enjoy the well timed stinger with a lingered chuckle.

But like any fire feeding it oxygen only made it stronger.

Before another second or two he was laughing in full.

It wasn't for a long time, but it sounded like a good time. "We all get there someday."

● tags: FERNANDO SILPH
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POSTED ON Oct 1, 2021 4:26:02 GMT

FRICTION BURN

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HIS LAUGHTER IS CONTAGIOUS. Fernando’s own laughter is muted in comparison but still hearty considering the source. A good guffaw passes over before his intake of air snuffs the flames of his humor.

“Agreed.”

The sound of him leaning back against the wood cuts through the sizzle of steam.

“When you’re old and have nothing better to do than lounge around.”

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POSTED ON Oct 12, 2021 5:40:01 GMT

Getting to yourself was a lot easier to do when no one else was around for a long time.

A small luxury of the elderly.

The youth had to go throwing themselves into circumstance, happenstance and every other stance to get the experience needed to figure out something, anything about themselves, about the world.

Mistakes would be made. . .

"So until you get there, when you have to, you try to show some humility to balance out showing your ass." -but atonement and perhaps humility wasn't a fitting flavor on everyone's tongue.

"If you're into that sort of thing." He knew plenty who weren't.

● tags: FERNANDO SILPH
● notes: 782 Heat Points

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POSTED ON Oct 19, 2021 7:47:44 GMT

FRICTION BURN

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HIS WORDS SEEM WISE BEYOND HIS YEARS. But where does this wisdom follow in regards to action. To praise and speak so eloquently without practice is nothing more than empty lip service. Fernando considers this now, reflecting on his own views, before answering.

“And where is your humility?”

Innocent in tone but provocative on paper.

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POSTED ON Nov 8, 2021 1:40:29 GMT

Just like a stranger to hold up a mirror to block another stranger's bullshit.

Some of the most honest and most human interactions happened between strangers.

The thought dyed Sénon's mind vexed; how natural it was for pretenses and expectations to keep us from showing those we knew and loved, and even the ones we hated, who we were.

Instead we showed them who we wanted them to see us as.

People you loved got the front row seats and your haters got the sky box seating, but strangers "Well."

-strangers got the backstage passes.

"I'm not done showing my ass yet."

● tags: FERNANDO SILPH
● notes: 769 Heat Points