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it’s malasada day

OPEN

it was as if his soul had been ripped from his body; as if all capability to feel even just a sliver of joy in his heart was now condemned. he felt defeated, battered; thrown into a pit of fire to be forgotten and left to char over. even the free box of sweet alola pineapple malasada couldn’t cure him of this heavy sorrow.

“i’ve been stood up.” he’s murmuring to himself again, expression blank and the crumbs off the malasada falling onto his lap. he barely even notices it though, continuing to nibble at the pastry halfheartedly. “me. tidus hong.... stood. up.”

has hell finally frozen over? was our planet spiraling towards their eminent destruction this very moment? was this the day of arceus's second coming?

#alostarter #my attempt at a 'short' starter lmao #tidus being hella extra as always #BUT YEAH ALOLA IS FINALLY OPEN LETS GET CRACKIN

shipwrecked !

open starter !

hansung awakens with a low groan, quickly followed by a fit of choked coughs, spitting out water onto the sand as he raises onto his hands and knees. wait, sand? opening his eyes, he gasps at the stinging pain from the salt water, and the brightness of day. his fingers clench in the sand, his entire body sore and soaked, mind racing to figure out how this happened. the last thing he can remember was being on a boat--

oh.

shit.

han immediately opens his eyes again and looks out to the ocean with a frown. is he the only one that made it? closing his eyes, he tries to think harder about what happened, but he can only piece together that his boat to the alola region was destroyed in a storm, and he faintly recalls the figure of a lugia saving him, but not even he can be that sure about that one. a lugia saving his life? there’s no way.

where is he now, though? with a quick rub at his eyes, he looks around the beach he’s washed up on, frowning because he can’t recognize anything. with trembling limbs, he struggles onto his feet, only to fall back to his knees and nope. he can’t stand.

“anybody--” han starts to call, only to be thrown back into a fit of coughs once more due to a sore, scratchy throat, most likely from the sea water. god, he’s a mess. with only the soaked clothes on his back and a small messenger bag miraculously still fastened over his torso, he’s officially stranded.

#alostarter #( this is a past plot ; u ; before he got his popplio )#( open to anyone!! someone come help this poor baby )#( this is how he arrives on alola ahahah )#( threads )#( shipwrecked )

“uh━ what’s up?” the gym leader opens his door, toweling off the water from his body. “i’m kinda busy..”