Obvious exits:
East <E> leads to Celadon City: Main Street (North).

Wesley arrives from Celadon City: Main Street.
Wesley has arrived.

Heavy snow falls, making it hard to walk through the accumulating drifts, and occasionally even hard to see. All the world seems grey and white. The wind blows the snow about from the east, and it swirls around objects and never falls straight down. In the forest, the whirling curtain of snow accumulates in the forks of the trees and piles up in drifts against their trunks. While at the coast, the cold snow pelts the ocean, whipping it into a black frenzy with foam-white accents.

The Pokemon Center is packed today. The snow outside transforms the warm building into a safe haven from the cold, and everywhere in the esbtalishment trainers linger, many talking only to keep themselves from succumbing to the depths of uttermost boredom. Those who do not talk to their friends interact with their Pokemon: they have a conversation, groom them carefully, or watch two or more smaller Pokemon wrestle. There is one trainer, however, who seems detached from reality. Though the teenager has a small Nidoran snoring at her side, she seems oblivious to his presence. A small book is on the girl's lap, but it is closed, and she is staring down at the cover blankly. The girl is Melissa Barlette.

Well, the weather outside is frightful, but the fire is so delightful. And unfortunately, there's no fire in Celadon City's Pokemon Center. Unless you count the metaphorical warmth that comes from Nurse Joy's tender loving care of sick and injured Pokemon. But only a poet would do that, and a poet Wesley Brier is not. He's just a boy who's rushing out of the cold, a fallen Machop in his arms and a snow-covered Drowzee trundling after him. Wesley's frozen lips don't move to form words, but he does cast angry glares in the Drowzee's direction. The Drowzee himself doesn't look terribly concerned. It was Wesley's fault for having Fistfight out in the first place...could he /help it/ if she started harping on about how fat he was and he just /happened/ to Hypnotize her? And it's certainly not his fault that Wesley was too busy training Leochardo to notice for about twenty minutes. The boy rushes towards Nurse Joy, who seems to be happy to have something to do and looks the Machop over.

Wesley's entrance does not break Melissa's concentration on the book, but then again, no trainer in the past week has been able to penetrate into the girl's head. Melissa looks a little pale, somewhat skinnier, and her clothes appear wrinkled and a little dirty. Puff, the Nidoran at her side, mutters under his breath, <Yeah... snow's fun. I like... snow... zzz...> as he rolls over onto his belly. The teenager doesn't take any notice of her pokemon's actions. She is still caught in her trance.

Nurse Joy looks over the Machop, giving the boy a slight frown. "As tough as Machop are, they don't fare the best in winter climates," the pink-haired Nurse notes to the silly pale-haired boy. "Fistfight's usually good about them," Wesley speaks up, though it comes out more as "...Fist..g-g-goood 'bout..th-them," from all the shivering he's doing. The Nurse frowns slightly. "This is an old Machop - I wouldn't test her immune system too much. However, she seems to merely be a bit sleepy now; there's no harm done." Wesley smiles gratefully and accepts Fistfight back, before turning harshly on his heel and sucking ThoughtThief back into his Pokeball with a growl of frustration. The Nurse frowns at this some more, but declines to comment as Wesley has turned towards the couches to find a place to sit down anyway. And...catching sight of a rather /familiar/ Trainer as he does so. "M...Melissa?" he says, in a vague whisper. It's doubtful she can even hear him, but maybe Puff can?

The evil Rockets are on the prowl. Save the data, watch them howl! (Saving)

Wesley's whisper falls upon deaf ears, and Melissa makes absolutely no reaction. Puff, however, stops right in mid-snore, blinking open one eye. With a loud and overexaggerated yawn, the male Nidoran glances at Wesley from his position on the chair, his sight going from the boy's hips to his stomach to his face. <Oh, hi,> the poison-type greets quietly, before he goes back to sleep. Count one... two... three. Boink! The Nidoran quickly jumps to all four paws in one rapid motion, his face alight with excitement and joy. <What?! What are you doing here?! Hi!> The little guy's trainer adjusts her gaze slightly to peer out of the corner of her eye at her suddenly agitated Pokemon before she directs her attention back to the book.

Wesley stills holds Fistfight awkwardly in his hands, like a pale and shivering knight rescuing a fainted damsel in distress. Wesley is not a very observant boy, so it takes him a second to take in Melissa's somewhat bedraggled appearance. But even at that, he seems to reason, hasn't she always been like that? She has...right? The boy can't seem to remember as Puff begins to talk to him. "Uhm..?" he says eloquently. Slowly, hesitatingly, he moves towards the couch area, and is soon standing next to Melissa, eyeing both her and her happy Nidoran friend. "M-Melissa," he says, a bit louder this time, with a small yet friendly smile alighting on his face. Fancy meeting her here! In facty, he just read this great book just the other day and thought of her! He's sure she'd like to hear about it. His smile broadens, sligthtly.

Our lovely damsel hears the quiet knight's call, and sticks her head out of the window of her high castle. Melissa's head gently lifts in a smooth, almost robotic fashion. Her tired eyes rest upon Wesley's. She blinks. Twice. Her exhausted eyes widen slowly, almost to the point of comedy. "W... We..." she stutters softly, unable to pronounce the boy's name. No smile appears on her face, but certainly no anger or sadness does, either. Her face displays a kind of expression not surprise or joy, but a strange mixture of the two. In the meantime, Puff is close to bouncing off the walls with joy. <Yes! Yes! Let's go for a walk! A long walk! Let's do something! Something!> The Nidoran is ignored by his trainer for obvious reasons.

Wesley doesn't think so highly of himself that he expects a smile from Melissa each and every time he meets. He quickly slips over and sits down on the couch opposite of her, giving himself room to lay down the still sleeping Fistfight. Even the coldness of the outside couldn't wake her up, so Wesley doesn't get Puff's thoughts translated. "I read a very good book," he starts out. "I thought you'd like it." He's still cold, so he does shiver and stutter, but for the most part his words are audible. "It's about this girl who goes to a magic school and...oh, stupid, I forg--how are you?" he adds belatedly. "And...what does your Nidoran want?" he asks again. Beat. "Is he hungry?" Classic.

Only the faintest little smile forms from the girl's otherwise straight lips, which she bites softly as Wesley speaks. "Wesley..." she mumbles quietly, her eyes twinkling as she announces the boy's name. "It... I..." Melissa's hands suddenly snatch for the book on her lap, desperate to clutch onto something. She grabs the cover hard, and her breathing rate increases a little. "You don't... know..." What the heck is she talking about? Puff stops his frantic dance, glances up at his trainer, peers over at Wesley, and blinks. <She's been like this all w-> Suddenly, something else on the far end of the crowded Pokemon Center catches the Nidoran's eyes. It's another Nidoran, small, blue, and lonely. Well, since he's not going to get any action out of these two... He glances back up at Wesley, blushes, smiles, and bounds off of the chair, rushing over to make a new friend, leaving his trainer alone with the boy.

It's odd how Wesley is suddenly the talkative one. At Melissa's uninformative response, the boy tries to figure out what she means. As he does so, the niggling thought of her odd state occurs to him once more and his eyes flick over her form, her hand clutching the cover of her book. As he does so, like a bolt from the blue, Wesley actually has a thought. His earlier supposition was correct: she does look different. This is not how she normally looks. What to do about this, the boy has no idea. So he says nothing, erring on the side of caution. "No...I don't know," he says in an unsure mumble, his good spirits sinking a bit as he notes her almost..panicked reaction. If that's what panic looks like. Wesley's a rather poor judge at these things.

Melissa's tired eyes swoop downward for a moment before they perk back up to Wesley's face. She needs to tell Wesley, but... How do you explain something like... that... to a ten year old boy? And a best friend, too? The girl's voice slowly starts to break up as she says, "I... Wesley, I..." Her hand smacks the cover of the book once, causing a solid thumping sound. Her breathing rate increases, and her eyes begin to tear up slightly. "You weren't... There was... Do you... um..." The older teenager's lower lip starts to quiver softly, and though she's not quite on the verge of tears yet, she seems to be heading down a dead end toward it. Her hands clutch the book so desperately that it's a wonder she hasn't accidentally torn it.

Wesley begins to frown as Melissa speaks, and he flinches at the sound of her smacking her book cover. What follows sends the boy even more into a panicked state. What to do, what to do? His mind is caught in a spider's web of fear that he'll say or do something wrong. This is just so..so sensitive. So out of his league. Maybe Fistfight...of course! He begins to nudge his Machop without taking his eyes from Melissa. Fistfight fails him however and doesn't wake up yet. "P-please don't cry, Melissa...I couldn't, I'm..." Wesley blurts out, giving her a pleading glance. "If you don't want to..I can leave. Will that make you all right?" he suggests desperately, continuing to nudge the still slumbering Fistfight.

Melissa's reply is instant, firm, and perhaps a little too loud. "No!!" A couple of trainers glance over at her and her friend, but Melissa doesn't seem to notice them. "No, no, please don't leave," the girl pleads, one hand leaving the safety of the book to wipe her right eye, then her left. As she adjusts her glasses, Melissa whispers, much quieter, "I... I'll try not, um, not to cry. I will..." Her hand falls back to the book, though it is no longer clutched with such passion. Melissa turns to the side as she declines her head, hoping to seek comfort in the Nidoran's presence only to be disappointed by his absence. "I just... um..." Melissa doesn't look at Wesley. Her eyes retain a watery aspect, but no tears drip out - at least, not yet.

Wesley flinches once again as Melissa makes another uncharacteristically loud noise. He does notice the Trainers glancing over at them, and seems to sink down into himself. He misses Melissa wiping away her tears; if he'd noticed he probably would have had a heart-attack, the poor boy's so anxious. His hand rests on Fistfight's foot, but it no longer nudges her. Instead, it just rests there for protection. As Melissa declines her head, Wesley declines his. "...Your Nido..I think he went off. Still around, though," the boy comments in a low whisper of uncertaintly. Is she going to shout at him again? He gives a vague, limp hand gesture warily, as if uncertain if he's going to set her off. However, his manner seems to be a questioning, if rather fearful one.

The evil Rockets are on the prowl. Save the data, watch them howl! (Saving)

Melissa frowns slightly after she peeps, "Oh." Her hand twitches slightly as she considers the notion of sending out another Pokemon for comfort... but she decides against it. The girl is silent for a few moments before she says, "We... Wesley?" Whether the boy answers or not, Melissa will go on to ask a small and somewhat awkward question. "What's the... the... um, the scariest thing that's ever... happened to you?" All of a sudden, all sounds in the Pokemon Center cease in the girl's world. Though nobody has actually quieted down, the only noise that will enter the teenager's ears are those of Wesley's words and actions. To her, the three (including sleeping Fistfight) are in a large bubble.

Wesley cocks his head quizically at her, but he sighs and relaxes slightly as Melissa seems to gain control of herself. A crease appears in between Wesley's pale brows as he thinks. He doesn't need to think long. "Mindreader," he says, with a shudder. His hand pats Fistfight's foot absently; the Machop's response is to snort in her sleep, her mouth gaping open as she continues to breath. Not quite the comforting response Wesley was hoping for, but good enough. It takes a few long seconds before Wesley realizes Melissa doesn't know his history. "Father's Alakazam. He lived at home with Father's other Pokemon. He...didn't like me much. There were times when he'd...he'd Teleport me or make me float and threaten to drop me, and once he locked me in with Arcana when she was mad and..." all of that comes out in a rush, but it stills as Welsey blushes in embarassment. He doesn't want to get too personal. "S...Sorry."

As Wesley speaks, Melissa's head slowly raises to the speaker's level. Her breathing is slowing down to a normal pace, and a very slightly more vibrant and healthy face is shown. It's an improvement. Not much of one, but an improvement nonetheless. "I... see." The girl smiles very, very softly as she realizes a huge connection. "You... um... He made you feel... powerless, didn't he? Like..." The girl's eyes begin to water up again, but other than that, her face is rather emotionless except for the smile. "Like... he could... um, control you? ... Take... advantage of you?" All the while, her slowly blurring eyes engage intently upon Wesley's face, waiting for his response almost as though it's her only life force.

Wesley seems to be unable to look away from her - she's acting so weirdly, what would happen if he looked away? Would she cry? Would she attack him? Refuse to be friends with him? Wesley couldn't handle that. His mind tries to function through her odd line of questioning and after a few mental glitches he manages to come up with an answer. Wesley leans forward, his elbows on his knees, in a posture condusive to deep thought in a deep conversation. The boy slowly nods. "That's, that's exactly what it felt like. It was..he was just a very bad Pokemon. Sometimes I cried..." his pale face flushes pink. "When...when I was younger," he adds, with a deep cough. There's another pause as he looks her over. "Did you meet up with an Alakazam?" he asks suddenly.

Melissa takes in a deep breath as Wesley voices his inquiry. For one split second, her eyes peel off of Wesley to seek comfort in Puff once again, but, of course, he hasn't returned. Melissa's sight flashes back to Wesley. "I..." The girl gulps softly. After the swallow, the teenager's face shows a whole mixture of emotions. Sadness, relief, regret. "No... I..." It's now or never. This is it. "I... met up with a teenage boy." Hope is now the dominating emotion in Melissa's face as she looks at Wesley. Does he understand? Is he old enough? Will he lose her trust? Will he take it wrong? It's now Melissa's turn to ask herself a rapid succession of questions.

Wesley tries to track the emotions Melissa shows, but his lack of practice is readily evident as he completely fails to do so. His brow furrows even more as she begins to speak, and his head cocks in that canine way he does so well. As Melissa speaks, Wesley's face goes blank. His grey eyes narrow once again, yet there's still a questioning look to them. The situation has still not been fully explained to him. "Did...he hurt you?" he asks suddenly, his eyebrows raising as the thought hits him...and his left fist compulsively clenching simultaneously.

So trusting in Wesley is Melissa that her face alights in pure relief. Sort of ironic, since Wesley just figured out that the girl was hurt. What's also ironic is that Wesley is most likely thinking physical pain, and the older trainer, emotional and mental pain. "... Yes... he... um, he hurt me very much. He..." She pauses here, eyes glancing about the Pokemon Center, face jerkily turning like a cat in the dark. Her attention turns back to Wesley. She leans forward slowly, and her voice lowers in volume. "H-he... um... he... lured me out of the Pokemon Center... um, I think... um, his name was... um, Jase? ... Jack? I... I first saw him... um... weeks ago... then, um, then, um, last week, um... um..." The girl trails off, leaving Wesley to ask thoughtful questions, urge her to continue, stare cluelessly at her, or do whatever he may.

Wesley's clenched left fist trembles under the force of his contracted muscles. The trembling extends up his arms to his jaw. His mind takes down Melissa's supposition at a name, and he repeats it mentally in his head. He /wants/ to remember that name. As he opens his jaw, his teeth begin to clatter, so he shuts it again and leaves his question unasked. Or at least until he takes a few calming breaths which at least enable him to speak in some amount of coherence. "...Where did he hurt you?" he asks, his grey eyes flaring an amount of emotion he's unaccustomed to, yet his voice oddly in a normal, if somewhat flat, tone of query. His eyes begin to look over her for signs of a scratch or a cast or bandages or...something.

Melissa doesn't have a scratch or a bruise anywhere on her visible body. Her knees may be a little scraped, and her back has a little cut, but both of these are covered in clothing. Melissa does not respond to Wesley's question; instead, she lifts her hands up to her chest and pats there, slowly. "It was... he... um, he... um, grabbed me, but he didn't... hurt me. A man... um, he, um, he stopped him." Melissa's concentration is deep, and it may be preventing her from bursting into tears. She's struggling slightly to keep her voice under control, not in fear of sobbing but in fear of attracting attention from the other trainers by being too loud. "H... he..." She hesitates here, and her hands, which have been touching her left breast, fall limpy down onto her lap. She squints slightly behind her glasses, and she seems even more tired than before.

The evil Rockets are on the prowl. Save the data, watch them howl! (Saving)

Wesley continues to shiver almost convulsively - a large gulping of saliva comes from his throat as he tries and fails to control the rampaging emotion. Melissa's next information strikes him dumb; his brows furrow once again in an attempt to understand it. Well, he'd be scared too if he was grabbed by a teenage boy. There's just one thing, though: "...He didn't hurt you?" Wesley asks slowly, trying his hardest to understand the situation. He wants to figure out whether to beat this guy up or not! He wants to know if he should feel this...rather troubling emotion that he's feeling!

Poof! Relief, sadness, hope, all that stuff vanished into thin air. In to replace it comes... Confusion. "W... Wesley..?" The tone of Melissa's voice is a little louder and is almost comical; it constrasts greatly with her quiet and secretive words before. "He... yes, he... yes, he tried to, um... there, um, he..." Her voice drops back down. "He... forced me... into an alley." The girl's next words are almost pleading Wesley to reply in her favor. "Don't you... W... Wesley, don't you know what, um, what he... wanted to do?"

Wesley's face registers what Melissa's feeling: confusion. His clenched fist relaxes, the shivering in his system now confined to a sporadict trembling in his shoulders. As Melissa speaks more loudly, Wesley flinches for the two billionth time that night. He leans forward even more to catch her next words, his confusion not dispelled by her 'clarification'. "Did he try to steal your Pokemon...?" he asks, in an unsure whisper. Is this like some hideous game show? If he guesses wrong will she hate him forever? The shivering between his shoulders increases, now being replaced by fear. And his guts have started to churn and writhe. Lovely. Wesley's literally dying of fear before Melissa's eyes.

One good crumbling deserves another. Melissa just kind of blinks in pure shock. It's not a horrified form of surprise. It's much different than the shock she experienced with Sly, but it's every bit as electrifying. "W... W..." In a rapid motion, Melissa's head turns to the side, so forcefully that her hair flies through the air and should effectively cover her face. She comes close to the verge of tears, but she almost feels as if she could easily stop if she actually wanted to. Perhaps logic, perhaps the understanding that Wesley's not old enough to know about what happened, is giving her this sense of control. Or perhaps she's all cried out. The closest trainer turns to see the girl, and, puzzled, starts to stand, but his friend says something witty - if not crude - that causes the boy to snicker and turn back to his buddy.

Wesley cringes, giving another large swallow, hunching over and crossing his arms across his front to subconsciously shield his vulnerable innards (which seem not to writhe, but have been dipped in liquid nitrogen). He himself goes cold with shock. "I'm sorry...!" he whispers desperately. "I didn't mean to...don't cry. I'll..I'll help replace the ones he took," the boy adds, more loudly, more hopefully. "Don't cry...?" he whispers, pleading with her again.

Don't cry. Though Melissa's face is desperate behind her hair and is filled with pain, she does not cry. Her eyes well up with water, however, and when a fair hand comes up to brush some of the light brown hair out of the way, Melissa has trouble seeing Wesley through blurry eyes, even as she turns her head. "I... Wesley... I..." She changes her topic in midsentence. "I need to go... I, um, I need to be alone." She hangs her head slightly as she removes Puff's Pokeball from her belt. "I... need to get out of... this city." She makes no motions to stand up quite yet, but when her head lifts, her eyes do not glance at Wesley, but in the far corner of the Pokemon Center where she spots her purple Pokemon gamboling with his new friend. Puff catches glimpse of his trainer, and turns to the female Nidoran, squeaking a few cheerful words that the distance and noisiness of the building render inaudible.

Wesley nods slowly, still feeling that horrible cold feeling and still reacting to it in shivers. He doubts it will go away. "I...I'll see you around then?" he asks, looking lost. Scared, uncertain, but this boy is not defeated. "I'm sorry something that horrible happened to you," he says, beating back the confusion and fear in his brain in order to come up with a logical thought. And a definitely unpracticed and quite hesitant...but still sympathetic expression on his face and in his voice.

(We were running low on time here, so I need to leave this OOC information intact.)

<OOC> Wesley says "You don't have to respond, if you really need to leave. I super-enjoyed RPing with you! This'll get me through my exam week!"

<OOC> Melissa says "This is gonna seem cheesy... but can I just quickly summarize what I was going to pose, just so you know?"

<OOC> Wesley says "Fire away. :)"

<OOC> Melissa says "All right. She'd recall Puff, and stand up. She would look at Wesley in a kind of... closer adoration. As if, despite his cluelessness (no offense! :), she can't help but love the kid. But there's also something missing. Um, she'd say, 'Not here, but I'll see you again.' She'd tell him to think about everything she told him, and if he still can't figure it out, she's explain it to her next time. Bet she's looking forward to that. :) Okay, any questions? (Oh, and I *loved* RPing with you today! It's downright amazing how you can pose... so maturly, so intelligently, and yet, still with your same special Wesley style.)"

<OOC> Melissa says "Gee, I might as well have posed. :)"

<OOC> Wesley says "Special Wesley style? You mean getting completely terrified? If you call that a style, then sure, I guess I posed with Wesley style. ;) I also love how you don't always explain everything about what Melissa's feeling. I have trouble with showing over telling. I have one question: would they have agreed to meet somewhere specific, or just...run into each other sometime?"

<OOC> Melissa says "I meant the posing style... but I like the IC style, too. :) Perhaps I'm explaining it poorly... No, they wouldn't meet anywhere specific. Melissa will be heading for Cerulean (I'll move myself there tomorrow), but she wouldn't tell Wesley this."

<OOC> Wesley nods. I'd love to RP with you after Christmas sometime, when I'll be on a bit more. No, you didn't explain it wrong, I'm just being stupid. :) Thanks again for the RP - it was nice to be doing something with Wesley again. In case I don't see you before, have a nice Christmas or whatever other December-related holiday you celebrate! :)

<OOC> Melissa says "Christmas, all the way. (By the way, by Christmas, Melissa will be in Pewter at home, recovering... but that's irrelevant.) Wonderful to RP with you again, and I do hope that I might get to see you and talk to you, even if it's OOC talking. Thanks again. I needed a good RP. :)"

<OOC> Wesley nods. I hope I get to talk with you again too. Maybe Wesley will actually show up with a Christmas present. :) Goodnight!

<OOC> Melissa says "Merry Christmas to you, too. Good night, Wesley. :)"