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Saffron Road - Route 6: Orange Road
This stretch of road between Saffron City and Vermilion City is often referred to as Orange Road. No doubt it has something to do with the two orange trees that stand next to each other right by one side of the path. They are rather unusual, and they're the only trees for about a half mile. The wild grass retreats for a few feet around the base of the two trees. Some orange peels litter the area around the trees. The fruit is probably a great attraction for pokemon. Then again, it could just be that some passerby decided to stop for a snack. Trainers might find it wise to stake out the area; with all this tall grass about, there's no telling what types of pokemon might venture forth.
Obvious exits:
Down <D> leads to Orange Base.
North <N> leads to Saffron Road - Route 6: Rest Area.
South <S> leads to Saffron Road - Route 6: Beeline.
The air is damp and cold, the sky a translucent grey, brighter to the south. Nothing casts a shadow. In the forest, snow lingers in the forks of the broadleafed trees and on the needle-clad branches of the conifers. While at the coast, the sea matches the cold winter sky: grey, rolling and oppressive.
The namesake of this road isn't really appropriate at this time of year. The orange trees may be still here, but any fruit they may have produced is long gone now, eaten either by hungry pokemon or equally hungry trainers in the earlier months. The brief falls of snow have eased off, at least, but the clouds overhead seem ready to drop some more at any moment. The cold, white substance still rests within the bare branches of the trees lining the path, but that doesn't pose too much of a problem. For a crimson-scaled pokemon, no terrain is really suitable to hide against, except perhaps the magma-heated caverns of his home where the darkness and heat provides the perfect place to stay, free of human interference. The pokemon in question is a Charmeleon, wandering northwards with large strides, not bothering to seek cover at all. He must be incredibly confident in his ability to avoid capture, or he doesn't care about humans at all. As he continues at his own rather slow pace, his narrow eyes scan his surroundings, recalling the area from the recesses of his memory. This stretch of road is definitely familiar to him... Perhaps -too- familiar.
Unknowingly, with only her subconsciousness at work, she found her way back here, to Orange Base. And although she does react surprised, it shouldn't come as a surprise. A small, unspoken wish in her mind: to return to this place, only two or three months earlier. And a thousand other thoughts at work, mingling and racing and turning circles in her head.
It is the presence of something else - or someone else - that pulls Streetwind out of her ponderings. Slightly startled, she stops her slow pace, and holds her breath for a second. And with slight embarrassment she realizes where she has arrived at. The Ninetales was planning specifically not to go to places that held memories; but obviously, she focused too much on Assissi. And her paws did the rest.
Then, her ears twitch again, still picking up the same sound as before: brisk steps on the muddy, brown track by the side of the paved road. The large fox turns her head back, to look at who is coming there, and whether it may be a threat or not. Something tells her that it is not a trainer, but she isn't so sure of that. She was much better with sounds in her earlier life... now, she lacks the constant exercise that is important to maintain a sharp hearing. Better check with the eyes, too. As for spotting Streetwind, the large sand-white firefox should be easily enough to see against the dirty background of the path, where all snow has been removed by constant wear.
The air is damp and cold, the sky a translucent grey, brighter to the south. Nothing casts a shadow.
What on earth is a Charmeleon doing in the middle of nowhere, close to a human road and miles from his home across the ocean? One can only wonder, but he seems in no hurry to get anywhere. His strides may be large, but they are slow and determined, as if he -wants- to remain in the cold air of the mainland. In fact, that is exactly why he is here. What better environment to test the endurance of a hot-blooded pokemon than the winter air of Greater Pokemon Island? With a home (graciously provided by Dakshi, of course) heated by the very core of the earth, the only place to train to the fullest is away from any heat whatsoever.
Scorch, for that is the lizard's name, has no trouble spotting the Ninetales. His sharp eyes are his best sense, and his alert state brings them to bear on the firefox ahead of him. Deep within his mind, an assessment is quickly made. Similar height, but bigger still, with the added advantage of all four paws on the ground. Scorch could do that too if he wanted, but that is best left to battle situations, which this is not. Yet. The Charmeleon seems undecided on his chances if he were to challenge the elegant creature, and so he remains alert and tense. But he doesn't stop. No, it wouldn't do to show any sign of intimidation, would it? This is a drastic change from the Charmander that Streetwind met months ago. Only a Zubat would have trouble spotting Scorch by sight, his flame-red scales and the bright lantern atop his tail tip drawing attention to the creature like a magnet draws iron filings.
Eek! A Psykitt! Hope Santa has reindeer insurance! (Saving)
It is indeed a sight to see a Charmeleon marching through the snow. So easy to spot and hear is the lizard that Streetwind begins to worry why she didn't notice him much earlier. How rusty has she gotten over the course of this couple of months of not hunting? It would probably be the smartest thing to actively start trying to find back to her former abilities. But as of yet, Streetwind still can't get herself to do anything. Too much is on her mind to focus on finding a non-dormant member of a prey species in the snow-covered wilderness. The Ninetales turns around fully to face the nearing lizard. He strikes her as vaguely familiar, although he does have a quite challenging attitude, walking around like that. But in her quest to regain the last bits of her lost memories, she needs to at least check if she knows his scent, or ask his name. Orange Base is purposefully ignored by turning her back onto it; there's nothing Streetwind wants to have to do with that place right now, and neither does she want someone to suspect that she had.
Thankfully it seems that Scorch hasn't recognized Streetwind. After all, the members of any species look alike to any other species, and for all the fire lizard knows, this could be an entirely different Ninetales. Or he could have forgotten the encounter altogether, which seems more likely. He never -was- known for his memory. Streetwind's continued interest in him begins to make Scorch slightly suspicious. <What? Have you never seen a Charmeleon before?> he asks, stopping a few paces away and folding his arms across his tan-colored chest. Either he now has the confidence to match his boasts, or this is another facade, a false front to hide the insecure, fearful and naive Charmander that he used to be. <Or do I have feathers in my teeth again?> he continues, opening his mouth and running his long tongue across his sharp, ivory teeth. He quickly brings one of his claws into play, running down the groove between two of the fangs, a rather irritated look on his face, contorted by the presence of a claw where it doesn't belong. <Hmm... No, I don't think so...> he says finally, folding his arms once more. Once again, his manners are atrocious, but now he can perhaps blame some of that fault on his mentor. Only some of it, mind.
On the topic of atrocious manners... Streetwind didn't actually think of the possibility that the lizard could notice her staring, and/or stop to talk to her. All that she wanted, for a start, was a quick sniff while he was passing by. Because, after all, she's invisible. Yeah right. The Ninetales blinks rapidly and takes a half-step backwards as she's addressed, once again snapping to attention. At least, she managed to conceal it somewhat, as the Charmeleon seems occupied with himself for a few moments. Errr, what's with feathers...? She cants her head to the side, and watches the vaguely familiar lizard probe his teeth. Curiously enough, she doesn't remember a) anyone with that way of acting, or b) knowing any Charmeleons, for that matter... An evolution can obviously change somebody in ways one never expected. Streetwind lacks this knowledge, and so the fire-type in front of her only confuses the Ninetales. She squints a bit, trying again to match his form, or maybe his voice, to her memories. <Do I know you?>, she inquires thoughtfully.
Streetwind just looked at you!
Very forward, isn't he? Gone are the days of the innocent little idealist of a Charmander who's first words were 'Hi, I'm Scorch, what's your name?', hoping the person he was greeting would react favorably. <Know me? I doubt it...> he replies, without really thinking about it at all. It's doubtful that his goldfish-memory would return anything recongizable even if he used it. Evolution can indeed change someone, and the Charmander wouldn't have believed how much he would change. Not only appearance, but voice, potential and even -character-, to an extent. The reason for most of his alterations is long gone now, but the consequences of his period of human training are still evident. No longer sweet, innocent, friendly and daft, Scorch is now hostile, battle-hungry, overconfident and ambitious. Not surprising, given his history. <I don't really get out much, but that's okay, 'cause humans rule this land too much. Don't like humans much, you know?> In reality, this is a vast understatement. Since his sudden release, wandering and rescue, Scorch has found out exactly what human care does to young pokemon, and none of it is good, in his eyes.
Eek! A Psykitt! Hope Santa has reindeer insurance! (Saving)
Well, at least there's a common basis between the two of them. Then again, a dislike for the ruling class or species is not difficult to find among the ruled, and wild pokemon rarely make an exception with humans. Those that do usually end up having their view of the world bent into shape by another trainer's champion in the next-best arena battle. As such, Streetwind doesn't even reply to the statement made by the Charmeleon, aside from a small nod; she takes it as a given. She does, however, pursue the topic of familiarity further. <I really think I know you>, Streetwind states firmly, and promptly approaches the lizard to sniff his scent, as his voice and shape fail to ring a bell within her head. If she feels respect towards the evolved opponent, it is momentarily shoved aside for this brisk advance. Let's hope it doesn't catch her a smack across the muzzle.
A thick layer of stratus clouds cloaks the sky at mid-day.
The Ninetales' approach does cause the Charmeleon to raise one eyebrow, or where one would be if lizards possessed them, but he doesn't object. <And I really don't think so. I've not been here in...> he pauses, raising his eyes to the sky as he thinks. Sadly his knowledge of basic math is minimal, and his understanding of the concept of time is even worse. <...A long time. And before then I was only a Charmander anyway. I don't think I've met -you- before...> he states, confirming the fact that he either doesn't recognise Streetwind or he has forgotten the entire encounter. The Charmeleon's sense of smell isn't very good, given the constant scent of charcoal that resides in his nasal cavities, and it was even worse as a Charmander. As a result, Scorch has nothing to compare the Ninetales' scent to. Perhaps this is a good thing, as he would be likely to repay Streetwind's previous meanness in kind. It seems like Streetwind has changed too, which is also probably a good thing.
The air is damp and cold, the sky a translucent grey, brighter to the south. Nothing casts a shadow.
And then, slowly, it dawns to her. The scent is different, too, but similar. He said he was a Charmander in the past... well, obviously he was. But Streetwind just plain forgot to think of the possibility of an evolution. But suddenly, it all makes sense. Yes, she remembers him now. She met him one... two times. Three? No, she believes it was two times. He was one of those that would bother people even when they didn't want to be bothered; and that was one of Streetwind's main features back then. Yet, for some reason, she never really started to argue with the Charmander. Maybe it was his cute and innocent appearance that pacified the Ninetales enough to just shoo him away with words instead of fangs. And his name was... his name was... <... Scorch? That's your name, isn't it?> Streetwind steps back a few feet again, now that she has identified the lizard. A part of her is glad that it is 'just' Scorch. There were many with which she has had serious quarrels which could demand retribution... and she isn't in the mood to defend herself against yet more accusations.
Scorch just blinks, then blinks again. And once more for luck. <So you -do- know me...> he says slowly, giving a nod in confirmation. <But why can't I... Wait...> he frowns, a vague memory of the encounter resurfacing. Of course, there has only been one Ninetales he has ever seen, although she seems... different now. Perhaps that is why he didn't recognise her to start with. <Yes, I remember you. I remember you were... disagreeable. But you don't seem the same, and neither am I.> Whatever Streetwind chooses to make of this statement is her business, but regardless of his memory of their previous meeting, Scorch thankfully doesn't want to continue the slight hostilities. <The old Scorch is gone. He was weak and dumb. That's not me anymore,> he explains, a slight hint of pride showing itself. Whatever he may say, his achievements are almost entirely due to Dakshi's efforts, something he is extremely grateful for.
Eek! A Psykitt! Hope Santa has reindeer insurance! (Saving)
She watches the Charmeleon remember, just as slowly as she did remember him. For him, it might just be a weak memory. Many pokemon don't remember much about events longer than one month ago, if anything at all. Streetwind has been known to have a near-perfect long-term memory; but it's been shattered and buried in the depths of her subconsciousness for a long long time, and is only slowly resurfacing. And not to mention that she'd prefer that her recalling of certain events would be a lot less perfect. Yet, it can't be changed. Too much can't be changed anymore. Upon Scorch's proud tale of how he has changed, the Ninetales only develops a slightly sad look. <Don't say that>, she responds softly. <It's not bad being weak.> She turns her head backwards, and for just a short moment, watches the two skeletal trees that stand guard over Orange Base. <I sure wish I was.>
This certainly seems to be a different Streetwind. <Not bad? Of course it's bad! If you get stronger, you can defend yourself better!> Scorch seems unable to grasp what Streetwind might mean by her saddened statement, his expression a mixture of shock, confusion and annoyance. <W... Why do you wish that?> he asks, not showing the slightest hint of tact in his question. However, the lizard seems to realize the error of his question, quickly correcting himself. <Er... Don't answer if you don't want to. That's what I've been taught, to do what you want to do. That's why I'm trying to get stronger and evolve, because I want to.> That and to make several special people proud of him. It seems that his philosophy hasn't changed, in that he loves doing what he wants.
Streetwind sighs, and turns back to Scorch. <Strength>, she explains, <Strength eliminates the need for others to care for you. Strength makes you self-sufficient, and thus, you lose the right to depend on others. Strength pushes you onward towards your goal, and leaves the weak behind. Strength makes you responsible for your mistakes, no matter if that mistake was acting or not acting.> The Ninetales speaks in a low, but clear voice, and it seems that she knows very well what she's talking about. Her orange eyes remain lying on the Charmeleon while she speaks. <And thus, the stronger you get, the more mistakes you will make, because you will do more by yourself, and depart from the company of others. And the stronger you get, the less your mistakes will be forgiven, because with strength, you lose the right for forgiveness. And while the number of your unforgivable mistakes will grow, the number of companions will decrease. And when you finally stand there alone with your back at the world, you will find that you are still so far away from your goal of strength that all was for naught. By then, it will be too late.>
Eek! A Psykitt! Hope Santa has reindeer insurance! (Saving)
<Wrong. Well, sort of...> Scorch says as the Ninetales finishes speaking her mind. <When you get older, you know more, so you know what sort of mistakes -not- to make. You learn every day, or that's what I've been told...> he explains, relating the knowledge he has gained from several different sources. They can't -all- be wrong, after all. After a brief pause, the Charmeleon continues. <I used to think I could do everything myself, but I know I can't. Even when I evolve, I won't be able to do -everything-. That's what friends are for, right? Friends help each other out. Like me and Dakshi. She helps me train, telling me how -she- did it, and I help by... um... hunting for the two of us... and keeping her company!> The Charmeleon smiles, slightly showing his glistening teeth as he does so. <So... You've just got to find something you want to do, and find someone who will help you do it! Or find someone who needs help and help them...> he finishes, not quite sure how to bring all of his thoughts to a point. Perhaps his point is that no one can stay alone and be happy. This seems like the old Charmander speaking, with the same positive outlook on life that he used to have.
The Ninetales frowns slightly. Scorch doesn't understand, obviously. <Idealist>, she calls him. <You're still on your way. I've been there already. Now there's nobody left who cares for me. The last one... the most faithful one, who believed in me the longest... he left six days ago.> And with that, she turns around. She feels that if she had to say one more word, she'd choke on it. She still remembers that last scene, how she purposefully started to argue with him. The accusations he shouted at her. How he went on and on and on. And how he was correct in every single point. Then he left, and so did she. Leaving behind everything. She didn't return, and he didn't come to look for her... All that is, of course, remaining unsaid. The details are nobody else's business. But Streetwind begins to walk on, leaving Scorch behind. He is not a friend. If anything, he's someone she didn't turn into a mortal enemy. Staying here, to talk about this obvious disagreement, would only make it worse.
The air is damp and cold, the sky a translucent grey, brighter to the south. Nothing casts a shadow.
As the Ninetales turns away, Scorch can't help but feel sorry for her. Is this even the same one that snapped when he said one wrong word? Obviously there are pokemon with more painful histories than even Scorch's. At the vulpine pokemon's words, Scorch looks down at his clawed feet, constant reminders of what hope has achieved for him. <Idealist... It's the only way to be. The world will always be rotten while humans are in charge. The best way to look is up...> he says, although his words aren't really directed at the retreating firefox. Reassurance for himself? Perhaps. Scorch turns away himself, beginning to walk slowly back the way he came. Despite his past despair, it is his optimism that has kept this lizard from just withering away. The hope of something good for the future is all that kept him alive long enough for his Charizard companion to sweep him away from misery and back to his homeland. Perhaps that is exactly what Streetwind needs. Hope. If only someone could give it to her...
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