Melissa arrives from Maiden's Peak: Northern Entrance.
Melissa has arrived.

(look Melissa)

Carrying:
Melissa's Pokeballs
Melissa's Pokedex

Fair weather clouds sail across the blue sky, propelled by light breezes from the west. It's warm in the sun, cool in the shade, and the air is clear and dry. In the forest, the wind rustles the bright green leaves of trees and bushes and carries Oddish pollen, downy seeds, and the fragrance of wildflowers along with it. While at the coast, the ocean is a deep cool blue today, the waves lapping at the coast gently under the pleasant spring sky.

A perfect day. Fair weather, beautiful sunlight, and refreshing breezes... All of which do a good job not destroying the dark cloud above Melissa's head, but merely hiding it. Indeed; while other trainers and even pokemon have a spring in their step, Melissa Barlette from Pewter City, hands jammed into her pockets, walking slowly northward along the docks, simply trudges along, shuffling her feet. The breezes blow her hair in an eastern direction, and while many strands start to cover her face, the girl makes no moves to remove them. The trainer's face is not one of utter sadness or bitter disappointment, however - simply one of thought and recollection - a rather sharp contrast to the rest of her movements.

Wesley sits on the dock, legs swinging over the side. It is indeed a perfect day, so of course Wesley deals with it in all the wrong ways. Right now, he's peering intently at a book; the wonderful world within it absorbs all of his interest. This might not be a good thing, as he does have quite a few pokemon out. There's a Machop and a Drowzee, who spend their time looking out to sea, but verbally sparring as they do so. What's so interesting about the sea? There's an extremely cheerful Squirtle and a just as happy Staryu playing about the dock. <Yarr! 'Tis good t'get a fresh blast of dear ol' sea air!> cheers the Squirtle, before ducking under the water. <Yeah!> the Staryu responds, flashing his gem as he swims. A young male Nidoran prances around a Pikachu - before being Thunder Waved into stillness. Wesley would be proud of those two, practicing their battle moves when they could be playing. But, as it is, he's just not paying attention.

While deep in thought, Melissa is not exactly ignoring the world around here - almost as if guided by some other force, she turns, maneuvers, and dodges when obstacles such as rocks and people get in her way. It's unlikely she even realizes it. The wind picks up a bit right now, and Melissa is forced to react - her glasses almost tumble right off. "Ooh!" Melissa peeps suddenly, a rather loud and very shocked noise, complete with fumbling, grasping, and swatting as the girl attempts to snatch up her glasses before they tumble to the ground and break... or even worce, get propelled into the water. Thankfully, Melissa is able to grab on quick enough... but the action is enough to snap her right back into full attention and reality. The girl looks around, noticing a boy sort of peering at her. He asks if she's okay, and her reply is a soft, embarrassed nod and a quiet "Yeah... I'm fine." With a blush, the girl continues walking forward, this time a little more aware of her surroundings, her thoughts having been shattered for the time being.

Springtime means pokemon love all around, soon babies will abound! (Saving)

Fair weather clouds sail across the blue sky, propelled by light breezes from the west. It's warm in the sun, cool in the shade, and the air is clear and dry.

Sparkheart the Pikachu doesn't press his attack on Spike the Nidoran - mostly because this is just a friendly sparring session and he's only battling with a kid, after all. Melissa's loud noise distracts the Pikachu. <Someone's here, do we fear?> he chirps a question to Fistfight, Wesley's second in command. <And furthermore, ghost types should scare /anybody/, even if you can beat 'em!> Fistfight responds - but not to Sparkheart; she's continuing a nice little chat with ThoughtThief on the merits of ghost pokemon. <Trainer, trainer, we in danger?> Sparkheart turns to Wesley. "Sparkheart, deal with it," Wesley mutters a vague command. The Pikachu sighs. Well, all right. He trots down the bridge a bit, hoping to find the source of the sound. The Squirtle notes this and follows the Pikachu, the Staryu in turn following him. Now Wesley's group is splitting up. Great.

Figuring that now is as good a time as ever to stop, Melissa sighs softly, comes to a complete halt, and turns her head to the right. The fresh sea breeze feels good, and Melissa's hand finally comes up to pat down her ruffled hair, now completely messy and ruined from the walk. Granted, she gave it little care this morning... While she is within plain seeing distance of Wesley (and vice versa) she does not notice the boy - nor his two little pokemon as they approach. After a moment or two of simply peering at the water, Melissa detaches a pokeball from her belt, lifting it to her chest and embracing it softly... but she does not call out the pokemon inside. How strange!

<Ye wanna race, sparker?> asks Seafarer the Squirtle, now doing a lazy backstroke. <No, no, I go go,> is the Pikachu's response. <Race me!> begs the Staryu, and the Seafarer complies. The two pokemon go shooting through the water, the Squirtle with an obvious advantage but the Staryu certainly holding his own as well as can be expected for such a young looking pokemon. Sparkheart, now seeing Melissa, perks his ears. There's something familiar about the girl. Her scent...Either way, she looks like she could use a hug. Knowing the cuteness of his race is a rather large benefit in certain situations, Sparkheart pads over to Melissa and perks his head up at her. "Pi ka?" he asks, tilting his head and furrowing his nose, looking concerned. Maybe if she speaks he'll remember her voice and then he can place exactly where he saw her last. As for Wesley, the book continues to be read and his two favourite pokemon continue their debate, for now.

Melissa's first reaction is not to glance down at the Pikachu, but first to gasp and look up. Peering down at the Pikachu comes only a moment later. She doesn't greet Sparkheart quite yet... She simply glances right down at her pokeball, and quickly hides it behind her back. If the yellow thing's wild, the last thing she needs to do is scare him off with a pokeball. "H... Hello," Melissa greets at last, smiling ever so softly as she glances down at the Pikachu. "Are, um, are you, um, lost, little guy?" Heff. Perhaps if she needs to, Apple or Puff can translate... but the last thing she needs is one of her pokemon knowing their trainer's depressed mood.

Sparkheart's ears are perked as he stares intently up at Melissa's face. That voice...it's coming back..the Ivysaur! Fistfight told him her name - Melissa, his trainer's friend. <Oh, oh, hello hello!> he says, rather surprised. Fancy meeting her here. There's a pause as the Pikachu, peering around, can't see any other pokemon near the girl; he goes on the basic assumption she can't understand him. "Kaa," he says, pointing to his trainer.

Melissa glance up at Wesley, for only for a second or two - long enough to see the Machop waving at her. With a small smile, Melissa glances down at the Pikachu, nodding softly. "You are, um, lost, aren't you?" Bending down further, the girl points toward Wesley and his party, pointing them out for the little mouse to see. "I think that's your trainer right there. Um, do you, um, see the Machop right there? I think... he's, um, waving to you." Melissa's hand drops. This is suspicious. She glances down at the Pikachu. Young Pikachu... She glances back at Wesley's band. Pre-teenage boy... cheerful Machop... ... and is that a Drowzee? Melissa adjusts her glasses slightly. "It can't be..."

"Ow, Fistfight, stoppit, ow, this is a really good chapter..what is it?" Wesley grumbles sulkily, before turning his head to look sternly at his Machop in an attempt to stop her from poking him. He squints into the light. "Hmm?" A blink is given at the figure shrouded in the day's bright sun. "That..is Melissa, isn't it?" he says to Fistfight. <Yes!> the Machop responds with a chuckle, mussing up Wesley's hair. "Oh," Wesley responds. A wave is given to Melissa, a bit less enthusiastically than Fistfight's former wave, but Wesley always tends to be less energetic than his pokemon. Speaking of energetic pokemon...<I'm free!> cheers Spike, the Thunder Wave's curse broken, as he springs around the dock with the boundless enthusiasm of the young.

Melissa takes one last look at the Pikachu, before standing straight up, now glancing in Wesley's direction. She shifts uncomfortably - she's never been a real people person, but even now... Does she want to be alone, even if Wesley's right there? ... No, someone else needs to know about her inner struggles. And who better than the world's greatest pokemon trainer? Giving the Machop and her trainer a return wave, the teenager begins timidly walking toward Wesley, peering back only to see if the Pikachu is following her. "Are you... um, coming?" she'll ask, even if the electric rat should happen to bound right ahead of her. She and Wesley are not far apart - it should be only a few moments of walking.

Springtime means pokemon love all around, soon babies will abound! (Saving)

Sparkheart the Pikachu doesn't bound ahead of her, but instead walks beside the glasses-wearing girl. ThoughtThief notes Melissa's nervousness (he's spent enough time around a socially inept trainer not to know the signs) and blinks, but says nothing. Fistfight and Wesley miss it, as she's explaining their lack of water pokemon to her trainer, a task made all the more difficult by the bouncing Spike. "They're..what? Didn't I tell you to watch them?" Wesley says. <We took our eye off 'em just for a bit,> Fistfight responds calmly. Wesley frowns. Why does he even have all his pokemon out if he doesn't bother watching them, silly kid? "All right; ThoughtThief, stay here and find them. Fistfight, Spike, with me." With that, Wesley walks over to Melissa, a paperback book dangling from his right hand. Spike the male Nidoran reaches her first and prances around her feet, calling out a perky <hello!> "How are you, Melissa?" Wesley says pleasantly, once they reach each other, but he can't quite stop his gaze from slipping away from her lovely face and out to sea.

As she walks, Melissa reattaches the pokeball to her belt, so that now she walks empty-handed. No book, no notepad, no pencil. "Oh... Hello, Wesley," the girl greets the younger boy softly as she approaches him, coming to a complete stop and pretty much ignoring the Nidoran, only glancing down to slightly smile at him. She lifts her head back up, wondering how to answer Wesley's question. Lie? Lie but make it obvious? Tell the truth? With a soft sigh, Melissa remembers one of her mother's favorite phrases: Honesty is the best policy. "Um... Not..." She reddens greatly. "Not really... good." She tries to make direct eye contact with Wesley, though this might be difficult if he's glancing out to sea. "Are you... um... What are you... doing here? ... The tournament?" Seemingly idle conversation, but it means a lot more to Melissa than simply that.

The tide is low and slack.

At Melissa's first 'not', Wesley turns back to Melissa, surprised and worried by the negative reaction. People usually just say 'I'm fine'. It's part of those social pleasantries that took him ages to learn. "R-really?" he murmurs, brows drawing together in confusion. <What's wrong?> Fistfight says, really quite concerned. "Uh, yes, I'm here for the tournament," Wesley responds, obviously still more concerned with Melissa. A thought slowly forms in his mind, before working its way out of his mouth. "Are..you?" he says softly. His Squirtle and Staryu are forgotten now...but at least they're noticeable to the Drowzee watching out for them. Seafarer the Squirtle surfaces, gasping for air, as the Staryu rises more sedately beside him. <Ye *pant* can hold yer breath longer'n me, *pant* five point,> he grudgingly admits. <Where were you yahoos?> ThoughtThief rumbles. <The kid's sniffing around that girl of his and for once she doesn't seem to welcome it. I'm checkin' it out. Follow me or get lost, whatever.> The Drowzee hurries over to Melissa, Wesley, the prancing Spike who is now chasing Sparkheart around the human's legs, and Fistfight. With a curse or two thrown the psychic's way, Seafarer and the Staryu follow.

Fair weather clouds sail across the blue sky, propelled by light breezes from the west. It's warm in the sun, cool in the shade, and the air is clear and dry.

Melissa glances to the side, but she does continue speaking to Wesley stuttering no more than usual. "Yes... I'm, um, I'm also here for the tournament." Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. "Or... I was, at least." She brings her hand down to her pokeball - not to tear one of the red and white devices off of her belt, but, perhaps, only to show Wesley that she wasn't robbed. The rest he can inquire about... though they'll all mostly lead to the same answer. The girl gives off a very soft sigh. The wind picks up slightly, further ruffling her hair; it's looking like a mess now. She'll have to spend hours combing it back down.

Wesley feels chilled with small prickles of cold fear before Melissa begins her explanation, as ThoughtThief and his two water types come up behind him, the Drowzee's ears perked. Did another bad thing happen to her? Wesley's not an imaginative boy; the thought of 'another bad thing' isn't explored fully, but instead remaining a nameless, malevolent blotch on the landscape of his mind. As she speaks again he blinks in surprise. It's not...something that bad. "You..uh.." he trails off as she motions to her belt. <Oh, I'm so sorry, Melissa,> Fistfight says, her brown eyes practically dripping in sympathy. <It's tough, yer first real tournament loss,> she adds - perhaps because she's nervous Wesley won't actually understand what this is about. Wesley does, though, but says nothing. "I'm sorry," he says, softly, again not matching his Machop's warmth and caring but..making an attempt.

The girl nods softly to Wesley, shifting from one foot to the other uncomfortably. She removes her Ivysaur's pokeball from her belt - but again, she does not send out the grass type. "I... I don't know what I was... um, fighting... It was... blocky... and it glowed..." She shakes her head. "But Lamia... she just... couldn't... It was just..." The girl sighs gently, and shakes her head even more, this time a little more frantically. "It's not important," she concludes. "I may have lost..." She glances up at Wesley again, this time looking a little hopeful. She isn't purposely ignoring Fistfight, but she is anyway. "Are... I..." Blush. Turn to the side. Melissa takes a step or two closer to the ocean and, with her back turned to Wesley, sighs gently.

Springtime means pokemon love all around, soon babies will abound! (Saving)

Before anyone can speak, Spike does. <If no one's gonna play, guess I'll go into my pokeball,> he mutters. "I'll, uh.." Wesley says, glancing down and quickly recalling Spike. It's easier than dealing with..this. Splashing comes from the water on one side of the dock and Wesley, guessing correctly, moves over to that side to see two water pokemon playing. With a glare, the human opens the Staryu's pokeball and sucks it back in. "Stay there, Seafarer," the boy orders, a bit more sternly than he needs to. <Wes!> Fistfight hisses, motioning him closer to her. Wesley frowns, giving his Machop a troubled look and another glance at Melissa. Should he disturb her? <Think of how you felt at the Rory fights; she's goin' through it,> the fighting type murmurs. <Be kind so you won't rewind,> advises Sparkheart. <Try not to make her cry,> says ThoughtThief.

Purple, gold, and vermillion clouds grace the western sky as the sun descends toward the west.

Melissa turns her head to the side, causing the wind to be in perfect position to blow some hair right across her face. Some of it gets in her right eye, but her left eye remains looking right at Wesley as he speaks. Once the boy finishes, Melissa glances down, turning her attention back to the sea for a few moments longer. She's totally silent - the wind pushes her hair back behind her head, and it flaps softly in the wind. Eventually, Melissa turns around - this time more of smile beaming and shining on her face. "I know..." She takes two or three steps forward. "I know, I know... I... I, um, I don't... I didn't deserve to win, I guess." Melissa speaks the next part quickly, before Wesley can be contradicted. "Not because I... can't... but because I don't... I don't want to hurt my pokemon." A soft sigh. A glance at the pokeball in her hand. "But... this..." The girl bites her lower lip, peering up at Wesley, practically praying for help. "I think this... hurt her more than any training... could have." The sky behind Melissa begins to light up into soft, soothing colors... a sparkling but beautiful contrast to the realization Melissa's admitting.

<OOC> Wesley says "I'm just wondering - how far away are Wesley and Melissa?"
<OOC> Melissa says "Right now? After she's stopped walking? I'd guess... Two paces? A pace and a half?"
<OOC> Wesley nods. Thanks.
<OOC> Melissa nods.

Wesley is completely silent as Melissa speaks. It can be said that he's completely motionless, too, as he just stands there with somewhat muddled concern etched onto his face, moving only enough to keep his body functioning. As Melissa steps forward, he stands still, trying desperately to think. As she comes to her full admission, his confusion and fear of saying the wrong thing have mounted considerably. A deep, shuddering breath is taken. "I..." Wesley begins, before falling silent and swallowing. Slowly, unwillingly, he looks over at Fistfight. How many times has he let one loss of hers keep him from sending her into the fighting arena? Does it hurt /her/ more than she admits? But, no, she'd tell him if it did, right? ..Right? His stone-cold gaze returns to Melissa, and he looks guilty. "I...I don't think I'm the one you should be talking to, Melissa. If you think your pokemon's hurting, then..you should talk..." he trails off, suddenly scared. Wait. Melissa does mean just emotionally hurt, right? (That's what happened with him and Fistfight, and Wesley's been thinking along those lines). Lamia's not..dying? "Unless...how bad is she hurt?" he adds, fearful again, inwardly cursing his own stupidity.

"Not... I..." Melissa sighs softly, turning her head to the side. She's torn - part of her is just craving this, wanting this, desiring this like nothing else. To talk it out with her only friend! ... But another part of her simply wants lonliness, time to think, time to ponder... but that side must be ignored. For now, at least. "Lamia spent... all night recovering," Melissa explains softly. "She... and I didn't... speak much... Not because I'm, um, mad at her... I just..." A simple, helpless shrug. Didn't feel like talking? Lamia was mad at Melissa? Melissa was too busy? The answer doesn't come clear. "It was just... so... The pokemon used this attack... it, um, was a beam... and it didn't look physically like, um, like Lamia was in pain... but she was, oh, and something fierce... and the triangles... The... the other pokemon simply slow down... It would keep using that, that psychic attack... and the triangles... mental and physical..." As she speaks, Melissa's eyes start to water softly, and she clenches the pokeball softly as though it's her only last hope to keep her from crying. "And it was glowing... and Lamia just kept trying, but she couldn't... and... And she was in so much pain, and I didn't know whether to keep going or recall her but... but..." With lightning speed, the girl reattaches her pokeball onto her belt, and thrusts both hands up to her face, forming a cup over her mouth. She turns around, her body beginning to convulse softly. She makes no sounds of crying... but that's what she's doing. Even young Wesley, to whom Melissa has turned her back, will probably figure it out.

The orange-red sun sinks below the western horizon, leaving a darkening tapestry of purple and red-gold clouds behind it.

Wesley lets out a breath he didn't even know he was holding. Melissa confirmed that Lamia isn't dead. As his only true friend speaks, the boy listens, the concern on his face becoming a bit strained as he tries to make sense of all Melissa's pauses and stutters. As she speaks of the attacks, Wesley nods, slowly. He's seen psychic attacks performed on his own fighters and knows how painful it is to see them unable to do anything. He follows - he's idly wondering what this pokemon might be - but he follows. And then...Melissa cries. Wesley's stunned. His brain has shut down. He..can't deal with this.

It's not that Melissa isn't struggling to hold in her tears. Every sense of logic and reason in her body says that she shouldn't cry. Her Ivysaur is safe. There will be other days. This is not a thing to do in public. And yet the tears still come. And Melissa considers running away, simply throwing her hands down and running back to the Pokemon Center... or even better, rushing along the docks, throwing it all away for now and picking it up later. The thought seems so inviting and relieving... but then she feels something touch her leg. Dropping her hands, and peering through water-layered eyes, she glances down at Fistfight. Something inside shifts. Then comes the Pikachu - the one that brought her to her friend today in the first place. Then there's ThoughtThief - while he's not hugging, Melissa is so suddenly overwhelmed and so enthralled that he might as well be flinging flowers and chocolates her way. One hand goes up to her mouth again... but this time, not to hide tears. This time it's to cover his mouth in pure shock, excitement... and a kind of ecstasy. Slowly, cautiously, Melissa lifts her head, and turns it gently. While she is still turned away from Wesley, she is now looking at him over her shoulder... and that's basically as she does. Look at him for a moment. What is she feeling?

Brindled clouds conceal a few patches of starlit sky.

As Melissa doesn't turn away, Fistfight increases the pressure of the hug, ever so slightly. Sparkheart the Pikachu leans against Melissa's leg like a doe-eyed yellow dog with a look of commiseration on his baby-cute face. ThoughtThief looks over at Melissa, vaguely embarrassed that he's even here but knowing, that as much as he hates to admit it, he wanted to do this good thing, just this once. He'll practice his Disable attack on his trainer later to even out the score. Fistfight cranes her neck all the way up to catch a glimpse of the girl and offer her a comforting smile. But..Melissa's not looking at her by the time Fistfight decides to do so. She's looking at Wesley. Wesley's looking at his Machop. He's made up his mind. He /will/ do something. Even if Melissa might scream at him and cry and...no, he won't think like that, he's going to..h-hug Melissa. He'll be a..proper friend, the way Fistfight's been to him. Taking a deep breath he closes most of the gap between them, one arm lifting from his side slowly. He was planning to plant it around her waist, but just then Wesley looks up and sees Melissa looking at him. And freezes, looking like a panicked Nidoran in the headlights of a car, as ThoughtThief will no doubt describe it later.

Melissa begins to breathe a little more heavily now, feeling... something very different. She doesn't know if it's love; she's read enough romance novels to know that this isn't love. But then, who can measure love? Can you not love your mom, dad, sister, best friend, and pokemon, and have all kinds of love? But this... This feels like... Acceptance. A kind of complete and total comfort, a sense of You-Didn't-Do-Wrong. Relief on a higher plane. With a gentle smile steadily rising on her face, Melissa glances at Wesley more... but this time, her hand lifts softly, and comes into a beckoning pose. Though she doesn't say a word, her eyes, her hands, and her smile say that she wants him to come and join the group hug - but who knows how well Wesley is at picking up these hints?

Wesley really doesn't know much about human interaction. Facial cues mean little if anything to him. He's spent his life with either pages or pokemon; books can't be substituted for actual experience, and pokemon use their faces completely differently than humans do. As for beckoning poses - he's never been beckoned. Only ordered and commanded. If he has been beckoned, it's been in a distorted cradle dream, comforted by a blond, sunny figure he can barely remember. No, Wesley doesn't know much about humans. Or being a friend.

It's good enough. With what is almost certainly a lot more power than Wesley, she grabs him - bending down a little to go so - and gives him a much harder, much closer embrace. It should linger for five or ten seconds - should Wesley not struggle away, whether out of shock or simple discomfort. After that hug is finished (no matter what the time), Melissa won't stand back up - she'll bend down even further, giving both the Pikachu and the Machop - and perhaps just maybe ThoughtThief, though that's unlikely - a huge, loving embrace. "Thank you," she whispers softly, not even sure of what she means. All she knows is that she feels worlds better, and it's all because of the pokemon - and Wesley. "Thank you so much..."

Wesley does tremble (you sure it's not suddenly winter here?) and even squirm a bit. But he doesn't quite struggle away from the hug, though other than the trembling of his slim frame he makes no move to return it. This is new, and for a boy that thrives on routine, new is scary. Nevertheless, the hug lasts the full ten seconds; Wesley's just in a bit too much shock at his own daring, at Melissa's reaction, to break it. All those words he said couldn't even compare to what a simple hug could do. The pale haired boy stands stiff, arms falling limply to his sides as Melissa bends down to embrace his pokemon, his very breath shivering. Fistfight smiles and embraces Melissa as well, patting her gently on the back twice. <Anytime you need us, sweetie,> she murmurs kindly to the girl, a grin on her dear old face. <Empathy is her and me,> warbles Sparkheart - which comes out as adorable "chuu, pika, pii!" Before Melissa can even thinking of hugging him, ThoughtThief steps back. <Can the mush...> he mutters gruffly. For once he's suddenly glad Wesley's not like this. How 'bout that; he actually found something to admire about his trainer.

Melissa doesn't completely understand Fistfight - but with the girl's newfound experience with pokemon added to what little Melissa understands of the Machop's personality, she gets the basic gist of what the old pokemon offers, and she thanks Fistfight for it. "Thank you... and you, too." She gives Sparkheart a soft little pat if he'll let her, before standing right back up. Her tears are still wet on her face... but now they seem simply like foolishness of moments ago. Melissa feels great. Good about the future. There will be other battles. Lamia will make her decision whether to simply quit from here or keep on going - and Melissa has a hunch on which path the old pokemon will take. "Wesley," Melissa says softly, rotating her torso to glance at the poor pale boy. "Have you battled in the tournament yet?" Her speech is rather clear - a little slow near the end, but she stutters less than usual. It certainly won't last - but for now, it seems almost a little... odd.

Huh? Oh, she's talking to him? It takes a few seconds for this to sink in, and another few seconds for her question to do so. Wesley's mind needs to be thawed first. His mouth opens soundlessly, before the words eventually appear. "I..yes, yes I've...I've battled." Now he's the one who's stuttering. How ironic. Wesley pauses, not wanting to continue. She'll get mad at him. She'll feel bad again, and he doesn't think he can survive another hug. ThoughtThief walks back toward Wesley, but Fistfight and Sparkheart hang around her for a bit longer. "I..Seafarer, are you out there?" he turns and says softly. When there's no response, ThoughtThief takes matters into his own hands. <Seafreak! Shell over here now!> he calls loudly. <Bite my tail, mind muncher!> is the response, but nevertheless the pokemon does come when he's called. Wesley tries to take a step forward only to find his legs don't work properly. "I, uh, won," he adds, guiltily to Melissa then quickly turns away to recall Seafarer, who climbs onto the dock. Hey, she had to know sometime.

"You won?" Probably to Wesley's surprise, the girl's smile widens and shines. "Wesley, that... um, that's great. Don't you see? Had we, um, had we both lost..." The girl's head droops slightly, and she glances at the ground. "There would be nothing left for us here. This tournament would be over as far as we're concerned. This one person I know... Do you know Zeph?" She lifts her head. "He was... defeated by a girl. He's... um, he's the only other person I even know. Not even a friend..." Shaking her head softly, Melissa continues. "But now... We still have a chance! I, um, I can watch you... and... and we still have a chance! I, um, I know about the boy I fought... I could tell you, um, what I know about him..." The girl lifts her glasses, adjusting them very slightly. "Are you... are you staying at the Pokemon Center?" She turns her head to flash a grin at Wesley, then a quick grin at his pokemon. "If so... I can... I can tell you what I, um, know about his pokemon along the way?" She takes a few steps south, stops, and glances over her shoulder.

Wesley stares at Melissa as she smiles, his expression blank. Well...that's a good thing, at least, even if he doesn't understand why she's doing it. Wesley nods slowly as she talks, his nods increasing and then stopping suddenly as she speaks of Zeph. "Zeph! I know him!" the boy blurts out. <Yeah, Staryu guy,> Fistfight says. "Starmie," Wesley corrects Fistfight, but lowly, as Melissa continues. He frowns. Zeph defeated? Wow. That's got to be tough. The frown turns into a soft, slightly uneasy smile. Melissa..thinks that just because he won one round, that he has a chance? That's very flattering - dead wrong, because he's just Wesley, but still flattering. "Of course I am," Wesley says in response to her question about the Pokemon Center. "It'd be nice to hear some more about the competition." He walks towards her. "You can walk..me back," he says, with some slight amusement, remembering how he always used to ask if he could walk her home. Fistfight, Sparkheart, and ThoughtThief follow, the rhyming Pikachu running friskily in front, Fistfight walking beside and ThoughtThief behind.