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POSTED ON Apr 23, 2022 17:39:01 GMT

luciano fisk likes this

From what little he could understand, he was basically fucked.

The fact that his nonna wasn’t going to reply back to him unless he answered back in the same language had him literally thrown into a loop, and then he was told to get a fish.

The thing is, she didn’t specify what kind of fish.

When he tried to ask what fish it was, all he got was ‘a fish’, and his next question was ‘what fish’ (after approximately two minutes of racking his brain) but he was just sent away with nonna yelling ‘A FISH!’ with no context whatsoever.

So basically he was… pretty much fucked.

Where the hell was the fish market again?!

timeline: a few months after arriving in Alto Mare, so basically sixteen years old. He has like extremely limited knowledge of that language so RIP his accent

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luci

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POSTED ON Apr 24, 2022 3:54:18 GMT

Laurence Anderson likes this

[nospaces]

[attr="class","luci2top"]

[attr="class","luci2"]

mother had left him to his own devices again.

[break][break] she said she could do what he wanted, while she was at a business meeting. the freedom that he got was merely a luxury of being one of the oldest. she no longer needed to supervise him — at least not as much as she had used to, when he was younger. she could trust him enough to hone his talent.

[break][break] but with freedom came it's own set of dilemmas. and there a young luci lay, on the crux of a choice, paralyzed in the center of a fork in a road — whether it be metaphorical or physical.

[break][break] so lost in his thoughts, he barely noticed that of another boy on the road.

[break][break] so much so that he bumped into him.

[break][break]

[attr="class","ooc"] Laurence Anderson

☉

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Lars

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POSTED ON Apr 26, 2022 16:11:28 GMT

luciano fisk likes this

He’d only been here several months yet every single day out in the city proper was the equivalent of an adventure—because of so many things.

For one, the constantly sweeping throngs of people hustling and bustling through the crowded streets. Another factor were the tourists—he could immediately tell who the locals were and who weren’t, because of the way the colorful languages clashed in discordant noise.

At least… he could understand some of the local dialect now. Only some.

And unsurprisingly the first words he’d easily picked up (to nobody’s absolute surprise) were the cuss words.

He’d been standing there for so long he didn’t realize that someone had already crossed his field of vision and—

“Mamma mia, where’d you come from?” he blurted out, shaken from his reverie.

timeline: a few months after arriving in Alto Mare, so basically sixteen years old. He has like extremely limited knowledge of that language so RIP his accent

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luci

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POSTED ON Apr 26, 2022 16:27:40 GMT

[nospaces]

[attr="class","luci2top"]

[attr="class","luci2"]

he stumbles against the pavement, blinking bright lights out of his eyes. sunshine gleams in the hot alto mare sun, and he turns to see the face of another blond.

[break][break] ah, how embarassing.

[break][break] "scusi," he says, blinking. "i must not have been watching where i was going."

[break][break] luciano is not a native — at least not to alto mare — but his sinnoan accent bleeds clear through his speech. "ah — mio scalpello." he points at a fallen chisel by the other's ankle. "would you mind?"

[attr="class","ooc"] Laurence Anderson

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POSTED ON Apr 26, 2022 16:45:03 GMT

To be honest, fucking same.

“At last, someone who doesn’t force me to speak the local language all the time,” he exclaimed. Fucking hell, it was a nightmare and a half at home.

Why were nonnas like that?

And then his gaze followed the other’s, seeing a fallen object not too far from where he stood. “Colpa mia,” he added as he quickly grabbed the chisel and dusted it off as best as he could before holding it out.

“You lost or anything?” he followed up. If he remembered his shit right, there was a place not too far away where there were artists of all kinds literally painting the scenery in the streets… maybe the other was headed there?

timeline: a few months after arriving in Alto Mare, so basically sixteen years old. He has like extremely limited knowledge of that language so RIP his accent

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POSTED ON Apr 26, 2022 16:57:41 GMT

Laurence Anderson likes this

[nospaces]

[attr="class","luci2top"]

[attr="class","luci2"]

oh, not a local? made enough sense. not that - of course - luciano was a local either. he missed the cooler temperatures of the sinnoh biome to the breezy onslaught of alto mare's beaches.

[break][break] he digresses.

[break][break] "thank you," he says, taking the chisel and placing it in his pocket. if Laurence Anderson looked carefully, he would find that the blue-haired teen had a satchel on his possession that had all different lengths of chisels, brushes and the like.

[break][break] his brow arches, a smile blossoming across his lips.

[break][break] "why? are you going to be my tour guide?"

[attr="class","ooc"] Laurence Anderson

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POSTED ON Apr 26, 2022 17:17:47 GMT

The satchel on the other’s person was the clue that tipped him in that the other was either a student at one of the many art-related schools around here, or they were looking for a place where they could paint or create art in peace.

“There’s this stretch not too far from here,” he continued as he pointed behind him, “…where artists have their easels and shit set up. Are you headed there by any chance? Or are you looking for one of the institutions around here?”

One way he could tell he was lost is if he ended up in the ‘artist alley’ (the self-nicknamed place where all the artistic types tended to gather) and not headed towards the open-air market. Honestly, why were there limited or no street signs around here?

Stick out like a sore thumb much, Lars?

timeline: a few months after arriving in Alto Mare, so basically sixteen years old. He has like extremely limited knowledge of that language so RIP his accent

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POSTED ON Apr 26, 2022 23:48:08 GMT

[nospaces]

[attr="class","luci2top"]

[attr="class","luci2"]

sea breeze eyes drift over. sure enough, there they are — a myriad of artists all set up on the easel, ready to paint whatever comes to mind.

[break][break] his lips press together. something akin to displeasure filters through his eyes like ripples on the water.

[break][break] when he turns to Laurence Anderson however, his expression is placid. "i'm not sure what i'm looking for yet honestly," he admits. a muse, his mind betrays, but that is not so easily found. not even in a paradise such as alto mare.

[break][break] instead, he opts for a chance of a topic.

[break][break] "how about you? what are you looking for?"

[break][break]

[attr="class","ooc"] Laurence Anderson

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POSTED ON May 20, 2022 12:40:07 GMT

“The fish market, actually,” he remarked as he began wringing his hands.

“I think I’m headed the wrong way, because that’s where all the nice people who make paintings out on the street are,” he added a few moments later with an embarrassed chuckle.

For a few moments, he grumbled.

“Why the hell did they send me out to buy the fish, I can’t even speak a proper lick of the language,” he continued with another sigh as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

And then there was that little problem…

“…do I have to go to the pier and catch the fish?”

timeline: a few months after arriving in Alto Mare, so basically sixteen years old. He has like extremely limited knowledge of that language so RIP his accent

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luci

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POSTED ON May 20, 2022 17:04:26 GMT

[nospaces]

[attr="class","luci2top"]

[attr="class","luci2"]

the fish market, huh?

[break][break] "i can show you the way if you like. i should pick up some ingredients for dinner," he says, already beginning to pocket the rest of his materials by his satchel.

[break][break] it had been on his list of things to do for the afternoon — perhaps he would strike a muse in the recesses of the market. though, somehow, it seemed unlikely.

[break][break] a laugh erupts from the young artist as the other mentions catching the fish.

[break][break] "i suppose that is another way to do things. in fact — " his eyes sparkle, as if suddenly reaching something of interest. the fish market sounded unpleasing, but the seaside? now, that was an idea. "let me escort you, amore. i want to view the seaside." a smile blossoms to his face.

[attr="class","ooc"] Laurence Anderson

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POSTED ON May 22, 2022 20:38:15 GMT

“Please,” he blurted, not caring if he sounded desperate at that fucking point.

Honestly, everything was still so bright, so shiny, so new his mind hadn’t had time to properly catch up and process what was happening so his mouth was definitely going to be running a lot for the next few weeks or so.

“I don’t care if I gotta use some damned string and a lure if I gotta get my hands on the fish, nonna just said ‘get a fish’, and I was like, ‘what fish?’ and all I got in answer was ‘just get a fish!’ and she sent me on my way.”

He… yeah, for lack of a better word Lars was a fucking wreck at that moment in time.

timeline: a few months after arriving in Alto Mare, so basically sixteen years old. He has like extremely limited knowledge of that language so RIP his accent

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luci

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POSTED ON May 29, 2022 4:35:00 GMT

[nospaces]

[attr="class","luci2top"]

[attr="class","luci2"]

please.

[break][break] now - he couldn't exactly deny the other, now could he? besides the fact that he had already accepted, noemi had taught him better than that. he knew how to be a gentleman, even at the young age that he was.

[break][break] a laugh bubbles to his lips. "i don't think a simple string would be effective. here, follow me." luciano begins to lead the over to the markets that are nearby; sure enough, a lovely woman helps them out. with a lift of his hand, luciano picks the two most expensive rods, a box of bait and glittering lure. he hands one of the bamboo rods over to Laurence Anderson. "here you are. let us go now."

[break][break] in a matter of minutes, they are at the docks, wind blowing in their hair.

[attr="class","ooc"] Laurence Anderson

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Lars

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POSTED ON May 29, 2022 15:44:30 GMT

Another thing that nonna had forgotten to do was give money to Lars to buy the fish, and since he didn’t want to steal from just any random stand—

Okay, going fishing was going to be the next best solution they had at this point.

“Wait, did you just—” he stammered as he took the other rod and watched, dumbstruck as the bluenette took the lure box and off they went to one of the quieter sections of the pier to—

Actually fish.

Only then did it hit him that nonna had literally not given him any money to buy the fish, so—

This young man was a blessing sent from who-knew-where, a savior!

“Do—do you mind if I let some of my Pokémon out for fresh air? I swear, they’re not overly large,” he asked the other. Because of course he would ask before doing anything crazy as he opened the lure box and began thumbing through the selection of lures that were available to them to use.

timeline: a few months after arriving in Alto Mare, so basically sixteen years old. He has like extremely limited knowledge of that language so RIP his accent

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luci

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POSTED ON Jul 10, 2022 20:20:32 GMT

[nospaces]

[attr="class","luci2top"]

[attr="class","luci2"]

to be honest, money had never been a factor to luciano. after all, he was a fisk — born and raised. if there was a thing that they would want or need, noemi would provide it. simple as that.

[break][break] his head tilts towards the other. "sure — of course i don't mind." as they get to the docks, he leads them over to to nearby chairs and begins setting up the relative poles. he also kneels over to open a fisher box that he had also purchased, eying the different types of lures that were offered.

[break][break] he glances up at Laurence Anderson. "do you have a preference? there is a spheal and a mudkip?"

[break][break] both were particularly cute - it brought a slight smile to the man's face.

[break][break]

[attr="class","ooc"] Laurence Anderson

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Lars

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POSTED ON Oct 5, 2022 10:34:51 GMT

“Ooh, a Mudkip would be nice,” he nodded—casually fumbling around and then popping up one, two, three—actually, four various Pokéballs and watching as a Metang, a Marshtomp, a Swablu and a Riolu emerged from their respective beams of light.

“Say hi to… to my other family,” he continued as the Marshtomp let out exactly one gleeful cackle before taking a dive off the pier into the salty brine below; while the Swablu floated around on the salty updrafts and waved one of her wings in the bluenette’s direction.

The Metang, not wanting to partake in most of the shittery his other companions were up to, decided to settle down somewhere behind the two; content to take up ‘guard duty’ while the two were fishing.

And then the Riolu decided to peer right over the edge of the pier, down into the water, before seeing a Magikarp looking up at him and then splashing the small Water-type Pokémon!

“Alph, what the hell,” he chuckled as he began to string up the fishing pole before hooking the Mudkip lure on the end of the line.

“Oh! Introductions. The Marshtomp that went straight into the water is Suijin, the Swablu’s name is Nami, the Metang who’s hiding right behind us likes to be called Ro, and… well, the Riolu’s Alpha.”

timeline: a few months after arriving in Alto Mare, so basically sixteen years old. He has like extremely limited knowledge of that language so RIP his accent