Callan was dressed to the brim in clothes, a black cashmere coat over a set of dark blue denim jeans and a scarf that covered half his face, and especially nose, from the cold. Though there was no mistake who he was, he liked to believe it gave him some anonymity as he walked with Elinor. His piercings were cold against the winter snow.

Callan approached this walk with some degree of tepidation, fear. Unlike Elinor, who to him, was always in the suunlight, Callan himself had to pick his days, his moments. The moments where the overbearing feeling of crushing guilt did not sink him to the void, unable to move. In the Meteno project, in the moments between life and death, in the battles, he had purpose.

Now... everything was peaceful, and joyous. And it was difficult to live through that.

The truth was, he did feel better. Much better. Yes, there were still problems, yes Team Rocket was still rampant, yes Teravolt was likely to disassemble. But the fact that the barrier was now gone, he could hear his daughter's voice for the first time in half a year, and the fact that he was able to live past the meteor, he felt pretty good. He felt anew, like he had come out of it a different person, or perhaps, mega-evolved.

The trouble was, on the bad days, it was difficult to remember. And it would creep up, for no reason, and remind him of all the things that came with them. And that was why he felt shame with Elinor right now, he wasn't able to get out of his head, he was sinking into a pit, unable to get out himself and spend time with someone he loved--

POW!

Something cold and wet hits the back of his head. He had realized that their hands were no longer held together, and something heavy had struck the back of his head.

"Oh, very funny." Callan snorted, turning around back towards his girl. "I hope you're good at dodging Elly, my Ball Tossing skills haven't faded from Slateport." Scooping a handful of snow and packing it gently into a ball, not hard enough to form a dense clumb, he piled it into a palm sized missile and lobbed it like a fastball at the strawberry blonde. "Three hits and you're out, loser has to do what the winner wants for the day!"

If Callan thought her blind to his emotional turmoil, then he didn’t know her very well. She was no mind reader, but it didn’t take one to see when something was bothering him. Given what they’d been through it was understandable, but still.

Luckily no emotional turmoil stood a chance against a fun filled bout of snowball throwing. Elinor threw the first Snowball and hit square at the back of his head. It seemed the cold wet ball pulled him out of his own thoughts. Perhaps it even worked something within him from hibernation.

With a confident shit-eating grin did Elinor watch him scoop the first handful of snow, packing it. She didn’t reply at first. But then Callan suggested a mild competition, and Elinor had to oblige.

“Deal!” She spoke confidently as she readied herself to dodge the first throw. Knowing full well that she had to somehow do so and get another fistful of snow for her next ball.


OOC: Mission thread for FESTIVE FLIRTS
LOCATION: Slateport Park

Callan's snowball came out like a baseball throw hitting a red dot at the Slateport Dunk Contest. Except this time, the red target was Elinor's face, specifically at her cute pink nose.

"Easiest win of my life dear!" Callan cackled, as he moved to scoop up a second handful of snow.

"That's my line!" Elinor smirked.

The Snowball was thrown. Callan fired it with the precision of a well trained thrower. Little did he know that after the Ranger-pie-fiasko, she had honed her dodging abilities. She would no longer be involuntarily pied, or in this case snowballed, in the face.

Her movement was quick, fluid even as she sidestepped, bent down and grabbed a handful of snow in one neat almost figure-skating like movement.

She gently pressed the snowball, making sure it wasn’t too hard before letting it fly aiming at Callan’s chest

OOC: Mission thread for FESTIVE FLIRTS
LOCATION: Slateport Park

Splat! Callan moves, but not fast enough. Callan shifted left, diving outwards to avoid the snowball's trajectory, too slow. The snowball lands and clips Callan's ribs, two to zero in Elinor's favour right now. "It's not over yet!"

He dips into the snow and hastily scoops and piles snow together. The snow is ice cold to his fingers, bringing a pleasant numbness to his fingers. He grips it tight, and the snow cuts into his palms with a sharp refreshing chill. Callan launches the ball, copying her tactic and aiming for the chest.

Callan runs towards Elly arms spread while imitating the Grinch, to hoist her up his shoulders and deny her access to snow. "It's time to faceplant into the snow Anderson!"

Two down, one to go. Elinor was so close to a quick victory. So close that she might be getting a tiny bit too confident.

Where her reflexes were near instantaneous in regards to her face, her chest was not considered of the same importance. And so she was slow, too slow. The Snowball hit her right in left boob. A mild grimace on her face as the hurt runs through her for a brief moment.

But she didn’t get the time to ponder the pain. As Callan stormed forward, arms spread wide like the grinch. Caught in surprise she found his arms around her quickly hoisting her up with ease as he loudly proclaimed his intentions.

All she could do was laugh as she yelled. “This does not count as a hit!” before Callan would surely use her face as the centerpiece upon an imaginary Ice cream cake.

OOC: Mission thread for FESTIVE FLIRTS
LOCATION: Slateport Park

"It absolutely is!" He cackled, before lobbing Elinor like a basketball into the fresh snow.She'd sink into a pillow of fresh, soft ice before Callan leaped into it alongside her, landing atop her but making sure she wasn't squashed by his larger frame.

Callan lifts himself slightly, looking briefly into Elinor's eyes as he pecks her lips and brushes his hand over her cheek. Then rolls over onto his back beside her, looking up at an azure blue sky. He sucks in a breath and exhales, deeply. "It's nice today."

Elinor was thrown headfirst into the pile of fresh snow. She had expected the landing to be harsher. But no, the snow provided a soft bedding for her to land upon, as she would ever so slightly sink into the snow.

Callan was quick to join her. Landing atop her expeditiously, though he made sure to not squash her. She appreciated that.

Their eyes met. He peeks at her lips. She gently licks them expecting a kiss which he so often did. Yet all she was given was a gentle brush against her cheek before he rolled onto his back besides her.

She tried to smile as she looked toward Callan. “Yeah, it is.” The lack of a kiss didn’t sit right with her. Callan would surely never forego the opportunity, so something had to be wrong. But she didn't want to press it further for now.

OOC: Hoping I read it correctly. Otherwise let me know and I will rewrite.
LOCATION: Slateport Park

That however, was the crux of the issue. Nothing was wrong. And therefore, everything was wrong.

Tedium, tedium is the killer of Callan Young. Peace and absence, watching a sunset, experiencing culture, spending time with a loved one, it killed him in a way that nothing else ever did. The ice slides off his neck as he stares into the empty, clear blue sky.

The meteor was saved, and now he needed to save himself from his own thoughts. As he shifts away from Elinor, he knows he disappointed her. But that was a burden he could not manage to hold at the moment. "...I hate it." He says, looking at the clear blue sky. "Why does the sun have to glow so bright?"

If only Elinor could read minds, she would’ve been able to relate to Callan’s struggle. Though her own burdens were eased by the workload of the council placed upon her.

Callan’s words brought further worry to her. His focus on something that surely hadn’t changed in ages seemed weird.

Is he sick? She knew certain illnesses could make one light sensitive.

Her gaze hadn’t left Callan. Worried as it was, she tried to hide it to not place further burden upon it. But she knew the question had to be asked.

“Are you alright?” Worry seeping into her voice. She pondered for a moment if Callan would answer honestly or try to push the issue away.


OOC:
LOCATION: Slateport Park

The more he spoke the more he knew it was a mistake to speak, yet he did it regardless.

He sunk into the snow like how he had sunken the mood. The clear, azure sky was a mockery, that no matter how warm the rays were, Callan could feel none of its warmth. Callan's eyes turn towards Elly. If he was sick, it was nothing that was physical.

"I'm sorry for worrying you." Callan replied, smiling, though the joy from the corners of his lips did not reach his eyes. "Lately I've just been feeling..." He began, "Like I'm not myself, I suppose. Like everything that happened in the past wasn't something that I did, but someone else that did it."

He cleared his throat, "It just seems like one day, any day, it will collapse on me. And you'll see me in a different way."

"How about you, Elly? Are things... okay with you?" A twinge from the guilt of selfishness stung in his neck, coursing up his ears. Here was someone seven years his younger, dealing with the weight of an adult infant. When he felt it should have been the other way around.

Elinor listened. She did not comment, she did not judge. All she did was gaze upon the man she had fallen for as he bared his most vulnerable to her.

“I think so…” Elinor replied. She gazed downwards suddenly feeling the weight that she carried. But then she pushed it away. She could not push it upon Callan. He had too much on his plate already.

“But it sounds like you really aren’t in a good place right now.” Elinor stated.

“I hope that you know, no matter what, I will not see you in a different way. You will always be Callan to me, the Callan who rose from Ranger to Gym Leader, and then Elite Four within a rather short span of time.” Elinor reached out to him.

“But perhaps we should talk about this somewhere more warm?” Elinor suggested.

For all the clothes she wore. She was starting to feel, and she figured Callan didn’t want to display his vulnerability to the world.

OOC: Finishing post
LOCATION: Slateport Park