[attr="class","evantalk"]

The tables have all been pushed to the walls in a frantic fashion, evident by the unceremonious dissaray of the tables and chairs. They are placed haphazardly like the only thing that mattered was clearing room. Because it was- he can clean the rest of the place back up after breakfast. The night before was quiet anyway, he'd been able to retire early enough to be caught in the nightmare to begin with right?

Images had tumbled around in his mind once he gathered it back together and out of fear that he might lose hold of what happened the man took to the empty floor with paper after paper. Some of it lined, some of it from the printer, others left from his various sketchbooks ripped out so he could use the vacant space.

The first several were all the same thing. A single crude depiction, like the kind you would find etched into the walls of a ruin and it was undeniably recognizable. Darkrai. Other images were clearer, sketching what he saw was how he learned, how he imprinted important things into his mind and he could not deny that there was something important in this dream of his. He could feel it in the back of his mind and the phantom aches of his body. He could feel it in his bones.

The depiction continued as he sketched the many scenes he saw over the course of the nightmare, sat in the corner to remind him. Furious and imperfect, sketches meant to simple transfer it from mind to paper, to be certain he could not forget whatever this was meant to be. Witness? A test? Guidance? Isn't that why Darkrai sat bellow his heart, at the bottom of his ribs? That phrase rolled over in his head and he left it across the many drawings. darkrai was the bringer of nightmares, nightmares were meant to incite fear. He rolled the faint sentiment over and over in his head. You place Darkrai bellow the heart so that your fear makes you stronger.

He refused to think it was nothing at all because there were too many others showing themselves, there was no way this wasn't by design. There was not way this wasn't real in some way. The bringer of nightmares had done something tonight.

Pencil is on paper when the door swings open, he rarely locks it because he does not fear disturbance. His mimikyu puts herself between Evan and the intruder in an instant, more startled by it being a face she recognizes than not. She jumps and scurries to his side, disturbing more of his sketches as she moves and the change from a focused frown to one of alarm is uncharacteristic of Evan but it is not because Lars startles him.

It is because Evan is becoming unraveled and there should be no witnesses.

Laurence Anderson
>>As a note evan's a pretty good artist because he draws a lot when he wants to remember something really well.

He was a fucking mess, honestly.

Having come over to Rustboro from Verdanturf at three in the morning wasn’t exactly the best of ideas, so he was in the middle of guzzling down the bottle of water (which was almost empty, who knew that walking that fast took a lot out of you) when he saw a familiar, not-Pikachu spooked by his sudden appearance and fleeing to hide behind her owner.

And then there it is.

Evan, looking up, startled at the sight of him.

“You… please don’t tell me… did you have a n-n-n-n-nightmare?” he began, stammering and stuttering on the words. It really scared the balls out of him. “Like… like waking up somewhere. Full moon. And then… tentacles. Fucking… fucking tentacles,” he breathes out, his voice raspy, throat dry as he spots an overturned chair.

Kicking it up, he swivels it around and sits down in it, the back in front of him so he can rest his elbows atop it.

“What… who are you drawing…”

Shit, he could use a drink, but the fear of throwing up was there, so he decided to just quench his thirst with the water bottle. It was almost empty.

[attr="class","evantalk"]

And there it is.

Lingering in the air between them while Evan fails to speak.

Confirmation.

Lars saw it too.

Evan had not realized that while the other talked he had been holding his breath until he had to force himself to breath. It was more than just the nightmare, the mere presence of another was both a much needed comfort and just as terrifying as the nightmare. Most didn't even know he could draw let alone like this- let alone what and when. The disaster around him matched the disaster Lars seemed to be. His eyes didn't leave him, watching him like an animal watches a threat (how unusual, since when did he feel threatened? Something only humans can do. They are the thing he fears most of all.)

Even as he reaches for one of the most far off drawings, motioning for the mimikyu to go to it and hold it up, Evan's eyes don't leave Lars. The part of him that is more human than not, irrational and hungry for a companionship he's never had wants to speak and take solace in this but the better conditioned part is quiet, choosing only to have his pokemon hold up an image of tentacles gripping feet and arms. Another comes after it, bodies being lost and torn apart and a scrawl in the corner in a language the other will not know says something he doesn't really need to be told.

Then they smelled like burning and my lungs felt like they would die.

He takes a deep breath. "I'm drawing it. The whole thing. It makes it easier to remember."

The rational choice was to try and forget but Evan did not believe in that. Though it touched on things that made him unsteady it also gave him a thrill he couldn't give a name to- and above all else it proved that whoever spoke that phrase was right weren't they? Below the heart to make sure your fears made you stronger.

"You.... you didn't make it all the way did you? I didn't see you but I saw-" he can't quite say it, the pokemon that stood by him at the end. All he could do was let them go when the waters rushed over him

Laurence Anderson

Lars didn’t know that Evan had quite the hand for drawing—the thing is, the sketch that the not-Pikachu was holding up in his direction made his skin recoil.

It looked… too real. He instinctively flinched at the sight.

“Fucking…tentacles. Everywhere. They were… everywhere. Touching places that shouldn’t be…touched,” he continued haltingly, cringing internally at the thought of those impersonal violations of his private space. “Snared me… and Daena. And then… and then, someone set them on fire. Half… I think. Someone else helped me get… free,” he rambled, trying to recall as many details as he could.

He remembered seeing a few faces as well. Some he recognized, but others were just fleeting. Too fleeting.

“People lost. Someone lost an arm, I think someone else lost a leg… I remember seeing familiar faces… I didn’t know you were there too. Was there that many people affected by this?” he added a few moments later, trying to drain the dregs of the water bottle.

“Then I flew. No way was I going to stay on the ground…” he recounted, shivering. “Stupid tentacles can go… die in a fire.”

It’s at this point he feels something burst out of his pocket—two somethings, actually. He doesn’t know what had triggered this, but he watches as two beams of red light shoot out of the Dusk and Moon Balls, clattering to the floor as his Lucario and Ampharos appeared in the confines of the bar.

The two Pokémon, not realizing that Lars was alive (and seated right behind them) made a beeline right for Evan, worry written all over their features.

[attr="class","evantalk"]

He gulps.

The fire was left out on purpose, hinted at in his drawings so he knew that's how they got away but he did not want it at the forefront of his mind. The thought of it made him sick. that wretched taste in the air, the smell, the smoke how it seeps into your lungs and makes them heavy with heartache and guilt. Like it's all falling apart around you and he visibly begins to squirm under the wait of his own psyche fraying at the memory.

"Please don't talk about the fire." He looks down so that Lars can't see the gut wrenching reaction to the smell filling his nose again, still a fresh memory through the haze of their nightmare. A smell he registers too strongly. A smell that resonates in a way he doesn't want it to. Something his mind fights to run away from.

Deep breaths are interrupted by the appearance of the two pokemon that had helped him in the end. The ones that may very well be the only reason that he made it as far as he did whatever the reason for that may have been.

He shushes the mimikyu that tries to cease their advance, her shadow growing in the space between and threatening the worst in his defense. Fiercely protective in a manner that terrifies even Evan sometimes. He reaches for her and pulls her against him to keep her from lashing out and she retracts, rag disguise rattling in annoyance though she allows them to close in.

"Shit I'm sorry, it's okay, she gets protective when i'm not okay-" he stops himself short because that's not a phrase he's too willing to admit, something he rarely is willing to say. "I'm sorry." he looks between Lars and his pokemon, moving to hug them against him just as well, the only thank you he can give for their attempts to save him because no words are enough. Not even the slightest.

What a mess.

If only Lars had waited until morning, when he had collected himself. Then this wouldn't feel so bad, he'd be talking about it with a smile on his face instead of feeling like a freaked out mess. It didn't matter that it was normal- it wasn't normal for the Evan fader that owned the stray, the evan fader that took on a mountain side like it was child's play, the evan fader that would stare down a dragon for the fun of it. He just wanted to collect his feelings and put them in the right boxes so he could go back to that again.

Laurence Anderson

Between them, the Ampharos is the more skittish, while the Lucario is impassive. Although, there’s a questioning look on Alpha’s face as the not-Pikachu begins to growl rather aggressively in his direction.

With his best attempt at a withering glare, he tries to silence the complaining Mimikyu the closer they get, but it’s the human who actually bridges the gap.

The Lucario watches as the little not-Pikachu gets picked up before they all collide in a sudden show of affection from Evan—even Lars is surprised at the sudden motion. Blinking, all he could do at this point is to stand up from the chair and be swept up in the embrace.

It’s here he realizes that there is something really wrong—and it’s with Evan. He knows the other to normally be stoic, and devil-may-care when it comes to attitude, however the way he was behaving right now—with all the drawings scattered around them, the frightful images, the scenes they’d witnessed…

Honestly, it was a miracle at this point that Lars hadn’t run away screaming from the area. How was he holding it in?

He had no idea either.

Sighing, all he could do is to let the other sweep himself up in the show of emotion, because it’s very rare for the other to be so open about something at a time like this.

“There… there’s no need to apologize,” he finally says at last, his own voice getting wound up and dry.

Or is there? He’s not sure either.

[attr="class","evantalk"]

He let's go. his arm lowers to settle over his stomach as the mimikyu takes a place at his feet. His hand absently lays at the bottom of his ribs without him meaning for it to. "I didn't expect company this late." he breaths deep. "That dream- whatever it was just rattled me a bit and she can tell and she gets protective. Especially since-"

He doesn't want to think about waking up to her sitting on his chest, the little appendages that hide below her rag disguise pulling at his shirt and whimpering. Waiting for him to come back to her, scared that he wasn't going to, that he'd be lost in there forever. Fierce as she was capable of being the little thing was as often and equally scared of everything. Her strength came from him just as much as his comfort came from her. If either of them lost the other it would be the end of them, of that he was certain.

Evan looked down at the pokemon again whispering a gentle "Thank you." because what else was he supposed to do? supposed to say? What were either of them supposed to say? Evan knew all the phrases you said in these moments to placate people, he'd uttered them many a times in estranged politeness, when people of status were in the room- but neither of those things were here and he couldn't pick the right words to deal with the fact that of all the places and people for the other man to have gone he came here.

It was too many things he didn't want to deal with all at once and the usual answer was easy- walk away. He'd normally hide himself in the woods for a week until he was all nicely stitched together again but that wasn't really an option anymore.

So instead he tried to turn things away from himself and focus on Lars, dealing with that was easier than dealing with himself and the fact that he was both perfectly fine- excited by the prospect of what had been witnessed- and not okay with what it might mean. The experience itself was perfectly thrilling to think about but the deeper meaning behind it rattled him to his core.

"Are you okay? Why are you here? This is a long way to go." he moves behind to the space behind the bar, the clinking of glass on the counter top there a comfort as he fills it with water to offer him before distracting himself further with rifling through the cupboards for something for the pokemon, feeling the need to make at least a small offering for the trouble of his Mimikyu.

Laurence Anderson

“I just woke up in a cold sweat. Long day,” he began shortly, shaking within the hold. While the Ampharos and Lucario didn’t know that they were in the presence of the one they thought was dead, the point came when they had to separate. It wasn’t until the Electric-type turned around and her eyes almost bugged out of her head did the Lucario notice that his companion was acting all weird.

Following her gaze, the Lucario turns on the spot, before coming to a stop. Wait—wasn’t he… didn’t he die? Wasn’t… wasn’t he disintegrated in the blast of the Hyper Beam?! How come… wait, was he still in that nightmare, or was he really seeing Lars in the flesh again?!

“What…? Alph, why are you looking at me like that…” he asked the Lucario. It was like the dual-type had seen a ghost. Frightened, the Ampharos quickly made a beeline toward where Evan had gone, the better to hide. There was distress and disbelief on her face and she didn’t want to believe what she was seeing. No, no, no…

The Lucario continued to stare at Lars quietly, wondering if his senses were tricking him.

“What,” he continued quietly, shrugging in Alpha’s direction. “Look… I don’t know if… I don’t know where Ro is. Not Nami, either. Ryujin… and Gareth… I’m not dead,” he added, emphasizing it by gesturing at himself.

The Lucario was still squinting at him suspiciously. His senses were going haywire, he was absolutely certain that he saw Lars disintegrated… how real was this? The dual-type turned to where Evan was, and noticed that the Ampharos was hovering on the outside of the bar proper, before slowly inching his way over to where the other Pokémon had gone to.

“Wow, Alph… rude,” he said with a hint of an ironic laugh a few moments later, staying where he stood.

[attr="class","evantalk"]

Evan nodded his understanding, he had woken in much the same way. He knew why, it had to be the stress on the psyche from being pulled into the nightmare. It was the only thing that made sense. Much like how a real nightmare can make so much distress on the mind the body responds in turn. Especially with the events of their nightmare, the collectiveness, the cohesion. It wasn't the subconcious disaster that was typical of dreams. That only made the mind stretch more in an attempt to grasp hold.

He's pulled from his thoughts on the matter before he can speak them. The ampharos underfoot makes him smilefor the first time since Lars had entered the building. "Easy darling. I need those to stay up right you know." that sounded much more like him.

With a little effort he gives them an offering of pokefood sprinkled with treats, something for their journey and for the effort they had put into helping him when they had no lars to depend on. "It is him you know, I think.... i think when we died in the dream and the stress got to be too much we were forced awake. I imagine the rest of your's already are." the look he gives lars is hopeful, more for his sake than anything else because he already knows the fate of his pokemon.

But as far as evan knows he made it to the end, lars didn't.

"Meg died, I got a little reckless after. But she was there when I woke up, scared shitless I wasn't going to." he adds, hoping it may give the other man some solace, though he couldn't be sure without seeing the pokemon returned to the waking world himself either.

Laurence Anderson

The Ampharos spotted the treats first and began to hesitantly pick at them. Slowly, slowly… before deciding that they weren’t going to kill her and began eating them. A few were passed to the Lucario, who was still in silent disbelief at what he was witnessing—the very same man he thought he saw die was right there, several feet away from him, in the flesh, alive.

Over where Lars had resumed his seat on the chair, he sighed. “Fine, don’t believe that I’m real then, Alpha. I thought you were smarter than that,” he began, before looking away. Now if his Lucario was perceptive enough, there would be a rather large wave of annoyance coming from Lars, headed right at him like a miasmic cloud. A cloud of annoyance and disbelief, most likely.

Turning to the tattooed one, the Lucario considers the truth in his words—well, if the other human was here, alive and well (not alright in the head but at least physically sound) then he would be the judge of that in a few. Nibbling on a few more treats that the Ampharos had passed his way, he continued to look over where Lars was now most likely scowling at something that he couldn’t see.

“I lost… three more. And one of them… my Metagross. Ro. I’m pretty sure he despises me now for what happened… it was all an act of self-defense. All… I couldn’t believe what I saw either. One of the Gym Leaders had lost her mind. Like she was about to stab everyone in the elevator. And then… I don’t know if you saw it, but… there was this weird-looking green… flying… onion. With really wide-set eyes. Kind of like those magical girl transformations on TV commercials. I don’t know what it was, but I’m pretty sure I hadn’t seen it…”

He wondered if Evan had extra pen and paper. While he was no master artist, he could at least recall the other details. “You mind if… if I have some paper? I have to draw what I saw. Before I forget. But my drawing skills aren’t as nice as yours,” he added with a chuckle.

“I’m just going from memory here.”

[attr="class","evantalk"]

watching how the pokemon lars brought with him almost made evan a little sad, he supposed he had been blessed by comparison. Evan had always been a bit of a daredevil and a knack for getting the people around him to simply accept putting himself in harms way was par for the course, his pokemon included. Not a one of them was angry with him for what happened in the dream because once they woke up and realized they weren't dead they let it go, concerned more for their human companion than anything else. The musharna watched his dreams, and the other knew in an instant something else was afoot. He can only listen to Lars and smile solemnly at that fact he will have to repair his connection to his companions, something that can be hard to do depending on their temperaments.

He moves out from behind the bar again, moving to a stack of papers as he speaks and retrieves them, returning to sit at the front of the bar instead of behind and hands the other man a paper when he asks and a pen to go with. "I can't say for sure what choices you made that led to that, but the best thing you can do for them is reflect on them and determine what you could have done better. Speak with them about it even, they may be pokemon but the sentiment can be understood and it may help." but it won't fix it for good, that will take time.

Evan looks at the mimikyu that skitters up to the bar top to stay near him, as close as she can be while his other pokemon mill about the stray. They have all been on defense since he woke up, determined the rest of the night will go undisturbed and Evan can only be grateful the care he's shown them is strong enough for them to stay by him. "When I lost my three we were defending an elevator, they all understand I made the decision from a place of rational decision making, I understood the scenario enough not to let my emotions get the best of me." intended or otherwise, his way of telling his side is on purpose, the goal being to make Lars think about why he made the decisions he did because at this point he is familiar enough with the man to know he can be a bit hot headed, something that can lead to poor decision making in a situation designed to instill fear and then utilize that fear to pit people against themselves.

The more he goes over what happened in his head the more it feels like nothing more than a horror movie, and in a way he lets his brain think that way because it is easier than facing a truth he does not want to think about. Cannot think about. How easy it would be to slip back down the rabbit hole until he reaches the bottom and Evan already knows what is waiting for him there.

He chooses to wait for lars to make his sketch before he comments about the legendary that he already knows the name of. His hand absently rest of his right hip as he thinks about it, he had already met it once before but took it as a possible trick, many pokemon were capable of it but now this confirmed that it wasn't. But what was celibi? He forgets now. He knew it once, and his brows furrow at nothing in particular as the memory drifts by but he can't take hold of it long enough to be sure if it's right. He'll have to rifle through his notes later.

Before he can give lars a chance to ask about his face Evan begins picking up the papers he's laid around the floor, realizing as the night draws on it will likely be best to clean up and give lars a room, no sense in making him take the treck back home this late.

Laurence Anderson

Finding a piece of paper was easy. It took a few pens before he found one that still had ink inside. Shaking it out between his fingers, Lars drags the chair over to a nearby table and lays the piece of paper down.

The lines are rough, at first. But once he hits his stride, he starts sketching it out. Emphasizing the eyes, the size of the head. He could only guess where it had come from. He didn’t know much about Legendaries, or their ilk. At least for the ones outside of Hoenn.

He was familiar with the Weather Trio’s story, and that somewhere there were rumors of a pair of sibling Legendaries, but… this one didn’t seem to fit the bill of what little he knew.

Sketching the eyes until he was satisfied enough, he returned to the blank face and began filling it in. It was the size of the face he remembered the most. He didn’t know who had it at their beck and call, however. All he was sure of was that the moment their elevator was under attack, he distinctly remembered seeing this one trying to help drop their ‘cabin’ down into the flames that consumed all of their Pokémon.

He wasn’t satisfied until he added on the smaller body, before adding color notes here and there. “There. That one. Do you know who it is?” he inquired, showing Evan the picture once he was done.

While no means perfect due to him drawing freehand, it was a reasonable interpretation of Celebi. But of course, he didn’t know its name. Meanwhile, the Ampharos and the Lucario had finished their share of snacks, and were now waddling and yawning where they stood. Oof.

[attr="class","evantalk"]

he'll come back down later to finish the rest, he decides as he manages to get most of the papers under control. Evan is undeniably a mess when left to his own devices, used to doing this kind of mental maping out in clearings in the wood and even now he often takes to the nearby woods and trails for this rather than the building he calls a home. Somewhere in his mind he tacks up a note to work on that, he's what? 32 now? Maybe? Wait it's late in the month- he's nearly 33 and he should be able to be a bit less of a mess by now.

He only wanders back over to lars because he says something, otherwise he might very well have continued on upstairs without bothering him again for a bit. Peering over his shoulder at the paper he bites his tongue to keep from commenting. The drawing is rough and some might call it a disgrace to the gods to depict it in such a way but Evan won't tell him that. "I was afraid of that." he sighs. He knows the stories well, well enough to tell a fair share at least.

But for the moment he does not want to think about the fact yet another god was involved in tonights affairs. He does not have the mental strength for that at the moment, not when he has only just begun to mellow out by having someone else to focus on instead of his own thoughts rolling around in his head. "we can talk about it upstairs, might as well give you a room for the night, no sense in you heading back this late."

If he wishes to linger downstairs a while more Evan will let him, in the mean time he directs himself up the stairs off to the side of the bar itself, leading to the upper floor and it's share of rooms. The only one down stairs is reserved for him as the owner, the rest are for guests though not nearly as ready as he would like for them to be. The mimikyu skitters after him, stopping at the bottom of the stairs to watch the others for a moment before following, passing a yawning vaporeon along the way who has been listening from the steps most of the night.

Laurence Anderson