JUST LET ME BE WHO I AM
                    it’s what you really need to understand
“Hold still a little longer, dear… Almost done…”
Burgh stared intently at the little Sewaddle in front of him, the Pokemon feasting on a cluster of leaves and seeming to savour their delicious taste. The brunet had one leg dangling freely from the branch he was seated on, the other tucked under his opposite thigh to serve as a makeshift table while he sketched. He hadn’t been to Pinwheel Forest in such a long time — when he realised that horrific fact earlier in the day, he’d dropped almost everything in favour of some quiet time in his childhood playground.Â
Having spent most of his young life climbing trees and scampering around the forest when his parents weren’t looking, Burgh was more than capable of sitting so loosely from this rather unsettling height. He did so without a care, all of his attention focused on his sketch-subject. After staring for a few moments more the Gym Leader touched his pencil back to the page slowly, scraped a few light lines over the surface to begin with before drawing in earnest.
Shapes were forming easily, life being given to the 2-D Sewaddle in mere seconds. Burgh’s lips twitched a little as he started to add the finer details, shading and dotting and giving the sketch tender kisses with the tip of his pencil. He always felt proud when he could sketch something he actually liked — though he’d started with pencils as a child his primary medium was now paints, so it felt nice to be able to re-visit his roots every now and again and still feel so connected to them.
“Ah… there.” The brunet grinned at the little Sewaddle happily, tucked his pencil delicately behind one ear. “All done. What do you think of it?” Smile still bright, he flipped the sketchbook around for Sewaddle to see his drawing. The Pokemon eyed it for a moment, clearly a bit confused, but eventually gave a small squeak of approval and wiggled happily. Burgh’s grin widened. “I’m glad you like it. Though I must say, I like the real thing a lot more!”
As he chuckled to himself a steady gust of wind blew over them; it barely even ruffled Burgh’s curly brown hair, but it disrupted Sewaddle’s position on the end of the branch enough to knock the poor thing through a gap in the leaves, plummeting towards the ground below.
“— Ah!!” A startled cry ripped from Burgh’s throat, natural instinct taking over in the sudden turn of events. Without a hint of hesitation he dropped his sketchbook, straddled the branch and locked his ankles together and threw his body weight to the side. He was flipped upside-down in the blink of an eyes, long arms outstretched just in time to grab Sewaddle out of the air before it could hit the ground.Â
Burgh was silent and tense for a moment, but eventually relaxed his muscles with a sigh. “Close one…” he muttered, bringing Sewaddle a little closer to his face and petting the Pokemon’s head gently. When he shifted his ankles a little to alleviate some of the strain the position was putting on them it occurred to him that he wasn’t entirely sure how to get back up to his seat on the branch. And where had his sketchbook fallen?
Frown creasing his features he craned his neck forwards, staring down the path from upside-down — except he couldn’t see down the path because there was somebody standing right in front of him while he dangled casually from a tree. Startled, Burgh yelped in shock, nearly losing his hold on the branch and breaking his neck with a fall on his head. Lucky for him, he apparently had strong ankles.
“Oh dear…” He chuckled, a little embarrassed. “Sorry, didn’t see you standing there. Didn’t hurt you, did I?”
The colours swirled together, browns and greys and yellows. Paint shone as it was dabbed across the canvas, blended into the shapes of the cliff and walkways that stretched out behind his workspace. Green eyes flicked back and forth; observing details, constructing ideas, watching the brushstrokes with a startling mix of care and abandon. Painting is precise yet messy, constricting yet uninhibited, plain yet elaborate.
Burgh had never ventured this far north before. He had no reason to, except for leisure, so that’s exactly what he was doing-- he’d taken some time off from the Gym and travelled past Opelucid City, setting up his canvas at the base of Victory Road. There were constantly the rumblings and such from within the wall-like cave system, evidence of the trainers that toughened their teams there in order to successfully take on the Elite Four and Champion ahead.
A familiar face exiting one of the lower tunnels caught his eye as he looked away from his work-- a muscled man with a dark brown complexion who Burgh immediately recognised as Marshal, the fighting-type master of Unova’s very own Elite Four. Catching Marshal’s eye, even from this distance, the Elite nodded in acknowledgement, and the Gym Leader smiled and waved in return. Burgh had never met the man before but it felt as if there was an unspoken camaraderie between them, as there was with most members of the Unova League.
He returned his attentions to painting for a while, Marshal still in the corner of his vision every time he looked up, and for several minutes Victory Road was unusually silent until a loud explosion rang out from somewhere within the caves. Startled by the noise the brush in his hand to streak across the length of the canvas, but the painting mishap was the least of his worries now; rocks and dirt were crumbling down the steep cliffside, heading straight towards the man below.Â
helloooooo everyone! tis i, kazu, here with my third muse! i used to play burgh a long time ago so im suuuuuuuuuper psyched to bring him back, ive missed him so much!!
so!! if youd like to thread with burgh, smash that like button and ill whip up a random starter! since im feeling this bug boi real hard atm, ill be capping at five (5) for now!
discoholicmusic
origamiaround
izzy806
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