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It's raining, it's pouring, and you bet your burger that the old man is snoring! The old man in this case is a four year old Growlithe of the Assisi Barn, who instead of going out there and feeding his family is instead content to take a nap on a day like this. Under normal circumstances on a day like this where Peppy just won't wake up, Aurora would have gently prodded him, then prodded him a little harder, then outright pushed into him to get him to wake up to go hunting, but there's a small problem with that - she's fast asleep as well. As a matter of fact, almost the entire barn is asleep, save for a couple of youngsters who play hide-and-go-seek amongst the many different types of creatures inhabiting the barn for the winter. It's a cold and chilling day; looks like the vast majority of the pokemon don't have any energy for anything else. Even the Growlithe puppies (who aren't even puppies anymore - Briska and Flame, the two boys, have outgrown their father in size) seem worn out, and four of them lie in one great big dog pile (pardon the pun) snoozing away.
Ugh... Wet. Not only is it raining, but a certain pokemon who doesn't like the rain has been out in it for nearly four hours! If it weren't for the fact that most of the barn was asleep, they would have seen Scorch briefly arrive earlier, stepping inside the barn door momentarily before heading out into the driving rain once again. After a two-hour period of hunting, the Charmeleon makes his second entrance today. Heralded only by the squish of his footsteps in the mud, he steps wearily through the open wooden doors once again. Giving a sigh, he looks around the barn for somewhere to rest for a while. The Charmeleon isn't alone, though. Behind him, dragged by their talons into the barn, are two Pidgeys, covered in mud and burnt feathers. They are fairly plump, however, so todays hunt hasn't been entirely unsuccessful. Shaking himself from head to tail, Scorch sprays anyone nearby with a shower of raindrops before heading for a vacant spot in the barn. It seems he isn't going to introduce himself today.
Two pokemon awaken at the entrance of Scorch. One smiles softly at him, and the other grunts under his breath to shut the darn door. A bunch of others jerk into consciousness when they find themselves sprinkled with cold and muddy water, much to their discontent. One Bulbasaur actually opens his mouth to start a fight, but sees the size, health, and type of the Charmeleon, and immediately sits back down and goes back to sleep. Quite a wise choice. Thankfully enough, Peppy's family is allllllll the way over there in the corner, and not a single drop hits them! ... Well, not from Scorch, at least. The old barn has more than a few cracks in it, and it just so happens that one of them lingers above and a few inches over Peppy's head. Were Peppy a nice quiet sleeper, he'd be okay, but he's not; the male Growlithe rolls over onto his back, coming close to crushing his poor mate. He has effectively diminished the gap between himself and Aurora, and has therefore placed himself right under the crack. Drip. Sploosh! "Grrro!?"
Chilly rain falls from a grey sky. It's bleak and raw. The wind blows from the east.
Thanksgiving is coming! Hide the Pidgeys! (Saving) the bird-pokemon!
Dragging his two prizes into the best free spot available, Scorch proceeds further into the barn. Oddly enough, the inhabitants that he passes tend to regard him with very suspicious eyes, although this doesn't seem to bother the Charmeleon. Leaving two muddy trails behind the Pidgeys, bordering a set of muddy footprints, he isn't going to be the favorite pokemon around today. Not that he cares. His eyes show weariness behind all that determination, as today's training exercise takes its toll on him. Sitting himself down, he glances around at the inhabitants of the barn. A few he recognises, most he doesn't, but Scorch is likely to be recognisable even in his evolved form. The markings that identified him as one of a kind are still there, proving once and for all that standing out isn't always voluntary. Then again, Scorch rarely does anything -but- stand out nowadays. Down to business... The Charmeleon begins the procedure of cleaning his hunting rewards off, wiping mud away and plucking feathers. They definitely aren't the easiest of meals to handle, but the taste offsets that.
Scorch is very likely to be identified even in his evolved form by the more *aware* pokemon of the barn. For an ignorant guy like Peppy, he probably wouldn't recognize Scorch the *Charmander*, even less Scorch the Charmeleon. Anyway, speaking of Peppy, he's not having a very good time now; it appears that the water dripping from the ceiling is falling right into his mouth, so his coughs and gasps are mixed with sputtering as the little droplets that form after the raindrop hits splash all over his face. Peppy rolls back over onto his stomach, blinks, sighs, and tries to get back to sleep. ... Grf. ... Grrrrf. ... It's no use. <Great,> he grumbles under his breath, pushing his head and chest up high but keeping the back half of his body low in a strange kind of stretch, complete with soft grunting as the cricks pop out one by one. He's been sleeping for over fourteen hours now, and given the hanging eyes and the stumbling, uncoordinated movements as he gets up to all four paws and bumbles to the door, it shows.
Scorch has only finished cleaning one Pidgey by the time Peppy is alive and... stumbling. The Charmeleon can only chuckle, as he imagines himself doing exactly the same thing... minus walking on all fours, which sometimes makes it even more difficult. Four feet are easier to balance with than two, especially after a long sleep. The Growlithe may look almost identical to every other Growlithe, but the mannerisms of Peppy are not that forgettable. <Don't go out there, Pip! It's wet!> Unfortunately, names -are- forgettable. The voice of the Charmeleon calls out from his own corner, and although it isn't as highly pitched as it used to be, it is still audible. Or it -should- be, it's hard to tell -what- Peppy's senses are like right now. The Charmeleon continues his work on the food without even watchin his claws, grinning at the antics of the recently-roused Growlithe.
Wha - our lovable little Peppy, identical to every other Growlithe? How untrue! He... he's... got... green eyes, and... and... and the long scar on his muzzle (that Scorch probably wouldn't be able to see from his position), and... yeah, so Peppy isn't that distinguishable physically. He comes to a complete stop, his ear perking up as Scorch speaks to him. Hm. Now, he knows what kind of pokemon that is; one of Patch's favorite pokemon was a Charmeleon, and he and Peppy got along quite well way back when. It doesn't sound like Charles at all, though, and Peppy turns his groggy eyes over to Scorch and cants his head slightly. <Uhhh...> he burbles, still obviously very tired, and grins. A dash of drool dribbles from the side of his mouth. Peppy doesn't notice. <Hey, you're new here. Uh, welcome, hope you like the place. I... uh...> And then he stretches his neck up to the sky and lets loose with a ten second yawn that would shame a Snorlax. Smack, smack. <Uh... sorry. Just woke up.> No, really.
This Charmeleon definitely isn't Charles, but that doesn't mean he won't get along with Peppy. Scorch chuckles as the Growlithe attempts to welcome him to a place he has been before. <I saw... I think you should spend more time getting up, don't you? Makes you go wierd if you get up fast,> he explains, as if he knows what he is talking about. As if on cue, Scorch opens his own jaws and lets a huge yawn out into the open, showing off all of those incredibly sharp canines as he does so. <Thanks for the welcome, but I've been here before. You probably won't remember me though...> he smiles, continuing to pluck the second Pidgey. <You want any?> he asks, pointing at the already plucked bird on the barn floor. Generous, isn't he?
Scorch probably knows good and well what he's talking about, but that sure doesn't mean that Peppy can fully understand him. <Oh.> Peppy peers back at the place where he was sleeping, right next to Aurora and the tiny waterfall from the ceiling, then to Scorch, and, finally, at his belly. He frowns. <Maybe I should go back and spend a little more time getting up, then.> Hm. <You know, you do kind of sound familiar a little bit. I think. Or maybe it's the way you look. ... I can't tell.> Peppy squints at Scorch, leaning his head towards the Charmeleon slightly, before turning in his direction and (carefully, so as to not crush some poor small pokemon underneath his massive paws) padding a couple steps towards him. <Oh, uh, no, I'm okay. I don't like to eat before my kids do.> He gestures to the pile of Growlithe over there in the corner, and grins in that cheesy "yep, I'm a dad!" way.
Thanksgiving is coming! Hide the Pidgeys! (Saving) the bird-pokemon!
The only poor pokemon between Scorch and Peppy are the two dead Pidgeys, so any care Peppy takes is unnecessary. <I -was- here a while ago... I'm Scorch, by the way,> he introduces himself, as if that will help in any way. <Okay then. Well, are you planning on going out -there-?> he asks, raising one scaley ridge in the way a human would raise an eyebrow. <I wouldn't. It's very wet. And muddy. You won't like it...> he explains. Of course, the Charmeleon is once again looking down on everybody else, imagining them to be less capable simply because they are smaller than he is. In reality, everyone else probably has much more experience than Scorch, but being a Charmeleon has gone to his head. Scorch's eyes wander towards Peppy's sleeping family, and he smiles. It really -is- a long time since he was last here, isn't it?
Scorch. Scorch. That name definitely rings a bell, but it's not one of those massive churchbells; no, it's a dinky little bell tied onto a crazy dog so you know when it's coming. Peppy squints slightly at Scorch, and more and more the thought "I have seen this pokemon before" comes into his mind, though Peppy still can't determine exactly who or exactly when. When Scorch refers to the rain outside, the Growlithe peers up at the sole window in the barn, looking out at the dismally grey skies. <Oh, that?> Peppy turns back to Scorch, smiling proudly. <I go out in that all the time! I don't like to, but you can't feed a Growlithe with rain, so I have to.> Hey, that was actually remotely intelligent. Wonder how many months it took him to think that up? <I still don't remember who you were, though,> the fuzzy one admits softly, his tail swishing back and forth behind him. Suspecting a long conversation, Peppy sits down on his haunches, spine erect and head high, trying to appear tall even in front of a Charmeleon almost twice his size. <When you were here last, was it just me and Aurora, or..?> It's totally at the tip of Peppy's tongue. *Right* there.
Since the Charmeleon is sitting down, the size difference isn't as apparent as it could be. At Peppy's (semi)inteligent reply, Scorch just shrugs and takes a huge bite out of one of his morsels, tearing into it like the practiced lizard he is. <I suppose...> he mumbles with his mouth full, forgetting his manners once again. After all, food is what keeps everything going. With this in mind, Scorch tucks into his meal once again, only pausing when Peppy's curious question forces him to use his memory. Dang. <Umm... It was a -long- time ago. I mean, it was you and your mate and your -little- puppies. I mean, if those're the same ones, it was a -really- long time ago!> he chuckles, almost choking as he tries to eat at the same time. What results is a brief coughing fit, but this quickly passes. The Charmeleon pauses for a second, thinking. After a while, he continues with the conversation. <So what's it like?> What does he mean by that? That's anyone's guess.
Ohh... <Hey, I remember you now!> The lightbulb brightens above Peppy's head. <There was that one day, when a Rattata injured me, and you were there! Hi... uh, what did you say your name was again? Slush?> A second or two passes, and Scorch might not have enough time to swallow his bite because Peppy already hops onto another topic. Somebody needs to give this boy an attention span. <Isn't it amazing?> Peppy woofs happily, tail swinging back and forth even faster than normal. <I think I'm pretty big as far as Growlithes go, but the boys are already larger than me!> Actually, Peppy's a pound or so under the average. Shows how much he knows about his own species. <And they can hunt, too.> Broad smile, wagging tail, it's obvious to see what *this* father likes to talk about. That and Aurora. And burgers. <It?> Peppy repeats distractedly as though he's not listening, pauses, then looks at Scorch, a little thoughtful. <What is it? ... Oh, you mean, hunting out in the rain?> If not stopped, Peppy will go on to explain how it's not fun, but it's not as bad as one would think, yada yada yada.
Chilly rain falls from a grey sky. It's bleak and raw. The wind blows from the east.
<Scorch,> the Charmeleon corrects, but any more words he might have had are cut off by Peppy's enthusiastic speech about his children. Even if Scorch knew about Peppy's error, he probably wouldn't point it out, as he seems so happy when talking about this subject. <No, I mean the whole... family thing. I never got a chance to ask last time...> the Charmeleon asks, his eyes fixed on Peppy's. <Finding a mate, raising hatchlings... watching them grow...> he says, his eyes focusing on some point on the horizon. <Must be... strange. And fun, I guess...> After a few moments of mindless staring at nothing in particular, Scorch shakes his reptilian head, focusing once more on the here and now. <Sorry, that's not... um...> he falters, not quite sure what he was going to say.
Thanksgiving is coming! Hide the Pidgeys! (Saving) the bird-pokemon!
Peppy barely nabs the word Scorch and commits it to memory while he speaks. Not that Peppy's memory is a particularly impressive thing, mind you. Upon Scorch's question, Peppy furrows his eyes even further at the Charmeleon, still not fully comprehending the magnitude of the inquiry. <Oh.> A pause. <Oh!> Another pause. <Hmmmm.> A Growlithe's hmm is a strange thing to hear, a kind of soft growling in the back of the throat that almost sounds like gargling without opening one's mouth. <Well, it is a lot of fun. ... Not -fun-, I guess, like the kind of fun you have when somebody scritches you or when you eat a burger or something, because it's a really different kind of feeling.> A smile grows on his face. <And it's like you know you should be really unhappy, because you can never be alone very much, and you have to hunt for a lot of others, and they're loud and sometimes mean and fight with each other all the time. But you're not sad, because you love them so much. Why?> Peppy shrugs as best as a four legged animal can. <I don't know. You just do. Or I do, at least. Did that answer your question?>
...No, not really. Scorch listens intently to Peppy's explanation, following as well as he can, but it is nearly impossible for someone who has not experienced it to know what is involved. <Umm... Kinda. I've heard it's the best thing in the world, but it seems like too much work to me... I like being...> he trails off. He is no longer on his own anymore, nor would he want to be. Loneliness is horrible, and not knowing the reason is even worse. <No, being on your own isn't nice at all...> he states. Love is a stranger to this lizard, and it is likely to be for many months to come. Still, that doesn't mean he is alone. Not for one second. Scorch continues to eat, although he takes each bite slower than before, chewing it over just like the thoughts in his head.
Ah, but Peppy the Wise (hey, stop laughing!) has a response to that, too! <You're right. It is a lot of work.> He nods in response to himself, as though somehow that assertion is incredibly wise. <And you have to sa...> What's that word? <Sa... sacrifice your freedom.> There we go. His voice drops slightly, and he glances over his shoulder once or twice to make sure Aurora isn't listening. <As a mate, you can't go anywhere you want, or do anything you want. You have to protect your mate with everything you've got, and then whenever you get food, you have to share it with her, and she'll get even more if she's pregnant.> At least in this case, Peppy can't be blamed for not knowing about laying eggs and such. As far as he knows, every pokemon ever born came out from inside a mommy, and that's good enough for him! <But I think it's completely worth it. I think a lot of pokemon wouldn't, but I do.> Once more, Peppy nods to himself, content with his own words. Good to hear he likes what he's saying, no matter how Scorch may feel about them.
And yet again Scorch's lack of knowledge and experience is glaringly obvious, as he seeks knowledge from Peppy of all pokemon. <Get rid of my freedom? I've done that before and it made me lose everything! No!> he retorts defiantly, his past once again coming back to haunt him. <But that was a human. So I guess it's different...> he ponders aloud, mulling over the many unfamiliar concepts in his mind. <It would take a -lot- to make me do that much for anyone...> As far as eggs go, all that Scorch knows is that he came out of one. Incredibly, a lot has happened since then, and he still doesn't know much more than he did then. <You know a lot about this, don't you?> he says, more of a statement than a question. <Well, if you think it's worth it, then go ahead... I'll decide for myself, -if- I get that far...> he finishes, nodding emphatically. It seems that trust is in short supply from this poor lizard, and that experience will tell him more than words ever will.
Thanksgiving is coming! Hide the Pidgeys! (Saving) the bird-pokemon!
You know, in all the months he's spent trained and all the months he's spent a good mate, Peppy has never taken the time to draw the distinctions between the two? It's true! And the gears in his head click and clack as they compare one lifestyle to another, and the similarities are surprising. <Maybe it is kind of the same, in a way... but I also really liked my human a lot, too.> Peppy goes off into his own little world to ponder that a little further until Scorch speaks about one of the few good qualities Peppy has, and the Growlithe nodnodnods energetically in response. <It takes a little luck and a lot of effort, but it's not a bad choice for some of us.> Peppy closes his eyes, smiles widely, and turns his head slightly to the side, looking oh so lovable. <Why do you ask, anyway?> he asks, blinking open his right eye, his ears pressing back against his head. <Did you find somebody?>
Chilly rain falls from a grey sky. It's bleak and raw. The wind blows from the east.
Scorch grimaces as Peppy keeps the topic on the subject of humans. His was a pleasure and pain scenario: lots of happiness for a while, then an earth-shattering event that left him alone and bewildered. <You were lucky...> he mutters under his breath, and that is all he says on the matter. <Effort I can do, but luck doesn't seem to help me... Whenever I try and do something, something always goes wrong. It's like I'm not meant to succeed...> he frowns, looking at the floor. Poor Scorch. The only good thing in his life is his evolution. That and his companion who has guided him since he left the farm. Then the question arises. The question that had to be asked sometime. <What, me? N-no! I mean, yes and no... Well, yes, but she's not...> he falters, not quite sure how to describe his adoption. If his scales weren't crimson already, he would be blushing. <She's bigger than me, and she's my teacher... It's not anything... like that, you know... I wanted to know so I would... know when it happened...> Oh dear. Scorch's eyes seem to be having trouble finding places to rest comfortably now...
Yep. Peppy doesn't realize it himself, but one of his greatest attributes is an excessive quantity of pure dumb luck. Scorch's nervous and anxious mood would probably go right over Peppy's head if not for one thing; a little over a year and a half ago, Peppy felt and acted in the exact same way... probably just worse. "Graaaalithe," Peppy woofs slowly, something of an <Ahhhh...> of understanding. <Well, you'll know when you know. When you can't tell, ask yourself something. Ask yourself... I don't know... ask yourself if you would starve for her. Ask yourself fight off a herd of Katerwauls for her. Something like that. As soon as you can safely say yes, then I think that's the easiest way to know.> One perspective, at least. Peppy glances around and over at the window on the wall. The rain doesn't seem to have let up even slightly. <I really should get out there hunting... Aurora brought home a really big Farfetch'd the other day, and I have to find something even bigger now!>
Thanksgiving is coming! Hide the Pidgeys! (Saving) the bird-pokemon!
Finally Scorch settles on staring at an area of the floor that doesn't seem to be taunting him. <If I would do that sort of thing for her...> he repeats to himself. For now, there's nothing that Scorch can do that his mentor couldn't do herself. Shaking his head, he grins back at the Growlithe. <Okay, thanks! I'll... I'll remember that. You know, I never thought I'd be looking -down- for advice... I guess there's some things I don't know still...> Well, at least he's honest. Pride may be something he values, but humility is a concept he had hoped to abandon. Hopefully it will come in handy. <Well, if you -really- want something tasty, look in that tree... thataway!> he points through a wall of the barn, hoping it is where he remembered. <The Pidgeys don't like flying in the rain, so they are all in trees!> he grins, hoping to give a bit of advice in return.
Hm. Looking down? If Scorch means something condescending or rude by his words, then it goes right over Peppy's head. In Peppy's mind, Scorch is referring solely to the fact that he's a biiiiiiig guy now (poor little two foot tall Peppy!), and therefore the Growlithe only snickers slightly. <It's okay,> the dog assures him cheerfully enough. <Not everybody can know everything, so... that's what friends are for.> He pauses for a second and frowns slightly as a thought flashes in his mind. It quickly dissipates, as all thoughts in a brain so small do, and Peppy woofs a happy <Thank you!> in response to the Charmeleon's hints. With one final nod, a glance at his sleeping family, and a few quick swishes of the tail, Peppy makes his way through the maze of slumbering pokemon in the barn and, unless stopped by Scorch, continues through the wooden door.
Nothing condescending meant, Scorch's experiences have told him to look up for advice. Still, even though he may be smaller, Peppy is still far superior in experience, even if he shows it in an odd way sometimes. Not a word more is said by the Charmeleon, and he allows the Growlithe to continue about his daily tasks. Scorch can only wonder how strong the bond must be to make a pokemon do that selflessly for someone else, but he may yet find out for himself. After finishing his meal, Scorch settles down for a little rest, leaving whatever scraps remain for any pokemon that wants them. This is only a temporary visit, but a bit of rest is in order. Training is strenuous, especially when the rain is so bitterly cold. Still, endurance should help him climb the next step, however high that may be.
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