#brocksolidabs

[brocksolidabs]

i need a vacation || brock + ???

Brock let out a sigh as he strolled along the road. It had been a long week. It wasn’t as if he didn’t like battling against up and coming trainers and testing their skills. He loved seeing what new potential champions had to give but dealing with so many of them without taking a break was starting to get exhausting. What the gym leader really needed was a vacation.

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[roarked-up]

Roark liked being on his own sometimes. While he was at heart very social and bubbly, he enjoyed being out alone in the wilderness just wandering around. Yes, he knew how stupid this was, but he had his Pokemon on hand, and it was just too fun to stop. It reminded him of his childhood, where he would explore the Coronet mountain range, looking for bones.

But he couldn’t dawdle on the route forever. He had business in Pewter City. He had to go to the museum and pick up an assortment of fossils to put on display in the Oreburgh museum. Normally, they would’ve just been shipped over by plane, but since they were so fragile, the paleontologists thought it would be better for someone careful to bring them back personally.

He hummed a happy tune as he walked along, wanting to be on time, but not particularly in the mood to push himself. Pushing himself was what he did at home; Kanto was a brand new region and he was determined to enjoy what time he did have there. He didn’t even care that he didn’t have paid leave for this--not from the mines, not from the gym. He didn’t like being in the gym that much anyway.

His backpack was growing heavy, though. Roark wondered whether he should take a rest or not, deliberating his choices thoroughly. He was cut off as he heard someone ask for directions.

“Pewter City?” Roark echoed. “Yes, I have a map. I’m headed over there right now if’n you’d like to join me.” He looked over his shoulder to make eye contact with the person who asked him for directions, only to come face-to-face with the man he recognized as Brock, the rock-type specialist of Kanto.

“Brock?” asked Roark, incredulous, “don’t you live in Pewter City? Don’t tell me ya got lost on your own turf!”

[celesticblonde]

“Culture Festival; are you enjoying yourself? (School AU)„ || Cynthia & Brock

November has finally come, and as every scholastic year, the month of November only meant one thing: Culture Festival. It was a rather well-known event of the school, involving both students and teachers, as it was possibly one of the most important event of the year. Offering each year a different kind of theme and presentations, each class had to organize its own exhibition, most of the time concerning homemade products, as they were much appreciated by visitors.

Exactly as she usually did every single year, the blonde History professor agreed to take part in the preparations of the event, a brief smile as she realized most of her colleagues actually decided as well to collaborate with their students in order to make the occurrence even more better than it actually was. Besides, teachers weren’t actually forced to do so – they were utterly free to choose whether or not they helped their class in order to accomplish a perfect outcome, which actually ended up most of the time in a challenge in between rival teachers, wanting to obtain the supremacy of the whole festival.

Regardless of those foolish disputes, she simply helped out organizing the whole decorations of her class, diligently carrying several boxes full of materials and adornments, eventually even doing her best not to ruin anything while she was on her way to the classroom, as she was way too distracted during that period of the year, pretending to be perfectly cool, even if she in truth felt kinda nervous; not that she didn’t trust her students, yet she felt anxious for them, hoping everything would be good enough and that everyone would enjoy their time during the event. Such motherly teacher.

Pushing the very last boxes nearby the entrance of the classroom, Cynthia eventually decided to take a small break from all her commitments, slowly heading toward one of the classes which hasn’t been used for the festival, his spacious and quiet room was something the blonde utterly loved when she was alone. Even though, this time she wasn’t alone; as she entered the breezy chamber, a tall figure stood just in front of the open window, his dark hair slightly fluttered as the wind gently grazed his frame. “Professor Brock!” she softly claimed, her long hair now fluttered as he slightly moved from the window as he turned, a smile in response. “What a pleasant coincidence to find you here.”

She indeed has a particular admiration for her colleague, his Geology lessons actually were well esteemed by her as well; he was an excellent teacher, and even more, a rather warm and friendly acquaintance to have and to be proud of having.