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POSTED ON May 15, 2022 8:43:00 GMT

The crisp air of the cold cave made his lungs come alive. Despite being a human fire-bug the heated half of the Head Rangers always felt so stifled in the tropical summer heats of Hoenn.

The Shoal Cave made his skin feel comfortable, his pokémon were less so.

Infernape crossed his arms on guard, mindful of its two trainers past and present. Chimchar seemed nervous so Gan was called out and made to TRANSFORM so the wine-colored monkee had a partner in crime.

They made way into the cave's mouth and shortly therein Mr. Game heeded to Mr. Anderson.

"So how does this work?" He looked over his shoulder at the heat rising from the ground causing refraction. "Maybe we should go a bit deeper to avoid any prying eyes, ears, mics or lenses."

Now that they were putting in the steps to victory, his caution was rising from the ground up as well.

● tags: Laurence Anderson
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Ven

Lars

he / him / his

thirty-two

july 26

Sootopolis, Hoenn

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POSTED ON May 19, 2022 16:36:08 GMT

“Not deep. Very deep,” he corrected as he gestured at the pathways that led into the belly of the Shoal Cave proper.

“They’re not exactly fond of coming out to the upper levels because it’s not that cold,” he said with a shrug, and for a few moments he thought he heard someone cackling in the back of his head.

“Pick up the pace, they’re not exactly a patient one,” he said as he wound his way deeper into the cave proper, shedding clothing as they went further into the cave.

It made him wonder—how the hell was the other going to survive the cold the further down they went?

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slowe

Masculine

Thirty One

November 13

Cinnabar Island

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POSTED ON May 20, 2022 0:30:59 GMT

Laurence Anderson likes this

Infernape took the lead just short of Laurs, lighting any darkened paths with his head flames as they made way deeper into Shoal Cave.

As much as he wanted to comment on the new tattoos, all of them, he was more thrown off by the removal of clothing articles. "Why are you taking layers off?" He didn't mean for his voice to sound half-nagging. Something about being a new father and talking to his babies hours of the day made him strike up such a tone.

Even if Articuno gave him some sort of high tolerance to low temperatures; "That doesn't make sense any way you slice it." Maybe the colder his body got the better his connection to the Legendary Avian on Ice.

Discreetly, Game checked his back pocket to make sure he still had that on his person.

● tags: Laurence Anderson
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Ven

Lars

he / him / his

thirty-two

july 26

Sootopolis, Hoenn

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POSTED ON May 20, 2022 8:12:35 GMT

? / genderless (they/them) / pressure / agility, freeze-dry, hail, blizzard, ice beam, sheer cold, ❆ the end of the world (z-move)

“It’s almost summer,” was his first answer.

And then, it hit him. Oh, shit.

This was the first time someone in general was going to see all of the tattoos he’d accumulated so far (hell, not even Skyler and Angelo had seen any of the ink) and he only realized it the moment he took his shirt off.

“Actually, it’s not tolerance to the cold that I have as part of my blessing, it’s complete immunity to the cold… and it’s the same for all of my Pokémon,” he continued as he passed by the familiar-looking frozen pillars that led to the deepest level of Shoal Cave.

“So I don’t know how you can hold off the extreme cold… are you going to face them alone?” he added as at this point, he peeled off his boots and socks completely—

Before the deity themselves came sweeping down into the cave proper, bringing a frigid blast of wind along with their entrance.

“And I apologize if they sound so snarky—”

‘Oh, stop putting words in my mouth, it’s a thing with you humans. What is it?’

There they were, in the flesh.

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slowe

Masculine

Thirty One

November 13

Cinnabar Island

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POSTED ON May 26, 2022 11:58:08 GMT

The cold swept across him like a metal detector pinging off gold.

It seemed to cling to him, with a mind of its own. Or so his bones told him as he actively summoned the will to endure the chilling gusts and icy walls. While lars had the blessing of an immunity to the cold, Sénon had to settle for ignoring it.

Similarly he ignored the blonde's pondering on how someone without his immunity could stand to be down here.

He balled his fists to fight off the encroaching tingle he could feel in his extremities.

"I have to; I don't want your connection swaying their decision to my side; not yet anyway. Besides..." They would enter main chamber as he finished his statement.

"-this is between two Kantonians."

He stared down the blue bird giving his pokémon orders. The infernape and d!chimchar were to come with him, the original chimchar was under strict orders to stay with Laurs.

"Get out of here." He sent Laurs away with a head nod.

As much as he didn't mind his co-Head watching what unfolded, he more so didn't want Anderson under the strife of having to pick sides.

"Watch my boy for a moment, and if something happens..." He wanted to say "Call my wife." but he didn't bother.

If this was where he ended, cait alfric would eventually show up on her own.

● tags: Laurence Anderson
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Lars

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POSTED ON May 26, 2022 17:07:16 GMT

“How sure are you they’re even from Kanto,” he rumbled as he pinched the bridge of his nose before the next words came pelting his way.

What, him, get out of there?

“Are you sure you want me to get out of here?” he blinked, before one of the Chimchars stuck to him like a leech.

‘Are you sure?’ the other Pokémon repeated, but alas it was only Lars who could hear their voice.

“Uhh… one thing, before I do—how are you going to hear them talking? Pretty sure you can’t hear their voice right now, only I can, unless…” he trailed off, before pulling a pack of cigarettes from the pocket of his shorts along with a cheap lighter he’d bummed off from Callan Young by accident (oops) and forgot to return.

“If you insist, then,” he said as he shook the box, pulled out a stick, and lit it before leaving the cavern so that the iceborne deity was now alone with the redhead.

And all they could do, at least for now, was stare right into the redhead’s gaze, wondering what the hell the other wanted from them.

This… was going to be interesting on so many levels.

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Thirty One

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Cinnabar Island

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POSTED ON May 26, 2022 17:38:18 GMT

He crossed his arms in posture, though the posturing wasn't empty. It kept his chest warmer than otherwise.

"How do you like this place?" He'd get no answer he could process, only cold eyes and an icy demeanor.

He couldn't understand Articuno, but Articuno could understand him. "I suppose one ice box is as good as any other." The 'sureality' of the moment wasn't lost on him. Before him were one of the legendary three pokémon of his home region.

According to Cait they were blessed lords just short of deity status at worst. Full blown gods at standard.

To Sénon they were idle gods or not, his smoldering stare hid his ire for their passivity. "I've come for your help." Infernape shot him a look of of disbelief. Gan seemed affixed on the legend.

● tags: Laurence Anderson
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Lars

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POSTED ON May 27, 2022 9:35:34 GMT

Meanwhile, outside…

Lars was smoking a cigarette—thankfully he’d gotten used to switching around from nicotine sticks to vape fluid, but the change was always jarring whenever he had to do it suddenly and not gradually.

‘I can hear him, but I can’t speak directly to him,’ came the snarky voice from the back of his mind.

‘Let me get that for you.’

After releasing a drag, he then turned around and stuck his head around the corner.

“They say it’s not as cold as that… that other place they’ve heard of, Seafoam, I think? Sorry, I’m not from Kanto, so it’s Seafoam—yeah, that place. Out in the middle of the ocean between Cinnabar and I think Fuchsia? But yeah, they said it’ll do… as it’s the only place cold enough for them to exist comfortably in this region.”

He then took another puff.

“What do you need their help for?” he followed up before turning away from the entrance, because he was pretty sure Sénon couldn’t hear the same voice nagging him in the back of his head unless…

After releasing another drag, he then stuck his head around once again.

“Piece’a advice, Red? Try opening your mind to their presence, at least temporarily. I can hear ‘em talking to me directly inside the back of my own mind however you can’t, but they can understand you, so… yeah.”

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Cinnabar Island

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POSTED ON May 27, 2022 10:49:29 GMT

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He should have been happy Laurs was offering to translate.

The moment his other stuck their head in to do some bridging of the conversational gaps, the fire-trainer looked to the left in agitation and then looked forward in agitation.

To the left at Laurs, forward to Articuno.
To the left at Laurs, forward to Articuno.
To the left at Laurs, forward to Articuno.

Each time the frustration on his face seemed to expand until he started to rub at his temple again.

He heard every thing that was said to him but the extra layer of interpretation was what he wanted to avoid.

Plus... "Red?" He squinted at Laurs for the detached nickname. In all their time together not once had Laurs addressed him by some takeaway feature of his person.

What the fuck was even happening to Laurs.

Maybe it was the same thing that was happening to him. Same stimuli, different manifestations.

The tattoos, the flippant nicknames; he was turning into some kinda proto-fuckboy. Sénon meanwhile was turning into a head case, or at least; moderately volatile.

"What am I? Supposed to sign a fucking contract in blood?!" He was yelling at both of them, but he didn't take eyes off Articuno.

In his head, he began screaming at the deity, repeating one of his earlier lines. "I've come here for your help."

In his head, he began screaming loudly at the deity.

"How much more 'open'" He had to take physical breaths between each burst, "do you need me," because he was also screaming just a bit under his breath. "-to BE!?"

● tags: Laurence Anderson
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Ven

Lars

he / him / his

thirty-two

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Sootopolis, Hoenn

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POSTED ON May 27, 2022 12:47:59 GMT

Lars could only chuckle softly as the other was looking from one direction to another. Unable to resist, he then lit a second cigarette before returning back inside the cavern proper, but leaning right at the edge of the entrance/exit way as he puffed away at the nicotine stick.

“Relax, man, there’s no need to sign patto con il diavolo,” he began with a smirk on his face. “And… they can understand Alto Marean. A bit. Somewhat.”

And then, at last, the same snarky voice that had been inside Lars’s mind space for twenty-four hours a day, three hundred sixty five (or sixty-six to account for leap years) days a year manifested with the redhead’s own mind space.

‘There’s no need to shout, you know. What is it with redheads being so noisy?’

“At least he’s not a dumb blonde,” Lars quipped from the back, cackling softly as he then quietly exited (again) accompanied by the other Chimchar, to leave them to talk in peace.

“Also, I chose ‘Red’ for you because of your mane,” he added once he was outside, loud enough for the other two to hear; which then caused the deity to cackle softly.

‘What do you need my help for? I’ve been overhearing bits and pieces of your conversation with him. I may or may not have eavesdropped on several other conversations between you two. What is it?’

There; direct to the point.

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slowe

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Thirty One

November 13

Cinnabar Island

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POSTED ON May 27, 2022 16:22:29 GMT

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Cooler heads always prevailed, despite being a fire tamer and a man of passion, he wasn't the hotheaded kid he used to be.

Or rather he wasn't supposed to be, in wake of Laurs' suggestion, Sénon did in fact, calm down.

What he did not do, was lay off.

The domineering weight of a second voice in his head nearly brought him to his knees. He shook his head in whiplash and he instinctively covered his ears.

Eventually he adjusted. "I need your help, to find the others." To spare them both the stalling question of "What others?" he was elaborated. "I was born on Cinnabar Island, so I have a good idea of where one is, or will be." The implications of rebirth and the reference to Cinnabar Island said what he implicitly didn't.

"The other one," The most dangerous one, by Sénon's approximation. "I doubt will be, cooperative." Not unless at least one of the other two was already on their side of things.

● tags: Laurence Anderson
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Lars

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thirty-two

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Sootopolis, Hoenn

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POSTED ON May 27, 2022 16:52:16 GMT

‘Oh. Are you talking about… them?’

Of course, with someone like Sénon this needed no explanation.

‘You are well aware of what happened at this—this ball, the Star Soiree as you humans called it. Of how Moltres was supposedly last sighted there?’

There was silence for a few moments, before they continued.

‘I… may have encountered the other one. But I am not sure if that was just a mirage—or if it was the real thing. I do not know how they had managed to manifest at the most unusual place—during one of Lars’s gym challenges. Those tests of might that you humans do in order to prove that you’re capable enough of handling all manner of strange situations…’

Back outside, though, Lars could hear everything perfectly well and could only snort as he lit up another cigarette, still waiting outside.

‘I may be able to help. However… I have a challenge for you.’

He already had an idea of what the mirage was planning, however he was not going to spoil it for his fellow Head Ranger what the iceborne mirage had in mind.

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Thirty One

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Cinnabar Island

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POSTED ON May 27, 2022 17:00:58 GMT

A deep sigh settled on the Red Head Ranger as the frosted fowl ultimately laid plain some willingness to assist if Sénon were to triumph in some challenge.

As irritable and absent-minded as he'd become post "SeaWorld" he remembered post-outburst some moments prior that he wasn't here to chomp at the bit of those would off their support.

If Articuno had a task in order to earn its trust or cooperation. Sénon's first task would be hearing them out.

"Tell me."

● tags: Laurence Anderson
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Lars

he / him / his

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Sootopolis, Hoenn

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POSTED ON May 27, 2022 17:14:48 GMT

‘Clearly there was a reason why you sent him out of the chamber.’

Back outside, Lars had to hold back a momentary fit of laughter because here it came…

‘It is but a simple challenge—can you bear the End of the World?’

And then, the loud snorting noise from outside as Lars hastily tried to cover up the laughter with a faked coughing fit. But one could tell the other was clearly enjoying this.

“Are you serious?” was all he could ask, and a loud, booming noise echoed from within the inner chamber. Damn, the icicles in the antechamber trembled, which meant the mirage was dead serious about what they were planning to do.

‘That is it. Bear the End of the World, and if you survive, then we can talk further. Are you ready.’

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Thirty One

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Cinnabar Island

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