9 ((*quietly hopes it won't be an awkward one*))
9 - our characters having a food fight
"You know, sometimes I really can’t stand my Dad." Roark hoarks down another forkful of instant ramen he bought in bulk for the Gym Leader’s summit in Johto this year. "I mean, he’s always mocking me for being stuck as the first Gym Leader in the region, even though he used to be the same way. I know he’s just doing it to mess with me, but still. It pisses me off."
His roommate, Falkner, says nothing. He simply focuses on drinking his green tea.
Roark scowls at the bluenette. “You know, you could try talking to me for once.”
Falkner shrugs and chews on a rice cracker. “Most words are wasteful,” he replies. “No use polluting the fresh air with worthless words. Then again, I suppose you wouldn’t know the value of silence, being you’re the one who talks to rocks and all.”
”“‘Scuse me?” Roark crosses his arms. “Was that a burn, Falkner? Was that a burn?”
"You know, we’re not here to be friends. We just have to not kill each other for the next few days until this meeting is over."
"Oh, what are you gonna do? Sick a Starly on me?"
Falkner breathes in, trying to keep his emotions under check in the face of the more fierce and aggressive man in front of him.
"I honestly don’t want to talk about fathers," he adds under his breath, but Roark hears.
"Then what do you want to talk about?"
"Nothing. I don’t want to talk about anything."
"Is everything all right between you and your dad?"
Falkner smacks his tea down on the the coffee table. “You shouldn’t be called ‘Roark the Rock.’ You should be ‘Roark the Annoying Pebble That Gets Caught in Your Shoe Except You Can’t Get It Out.’ Everything’s… fine. As fine as it can be. I haven’t seen him in several years, after all.”
"Oh." Roark stops and cocks his head. Falkner doesn’t talk much, but he’s normally a polite individual. Something must be really bothering him tonight. "I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…"
"It’s fine. I like to think he’s proud of me, wherever he is. Now that I think of it, he might be dead. I wonder if he’s dead? Look, you’re not providing any valuable insight on what it’s like to be the first Gym Leader. You know, I try hard to be as good as my father but people still call me the weakest Leader in the Nation. Not Johto. The Nation."
"Really?" Roark snorts. "I get the exact same thing." He laughs. "If that’s the case, then we’re both the worst Leaders in the Nation."
"I doubt that. At least people know who you are. Me? People are like, ‘what’s a Falkner? Is that a Pokemon? I hear it’s a Fairy/Flying type!’"
"Oh, I get called a fairy all the time, too!" Roark bites his lip. "But I don’t think they’re talking about Pokemon."
"Eat your salt and freeze-dried noodles," Falkner commands, and he turns around, deliberately ignoring Roark. "I don’t have time for this."
"I miss him," Falkner mumbles.
"I miss my family, too," says Roark.
"Go away." Suddenly, Falkner flings a rice cracker at him. It hits Roark squarely in the face, and it flops into his cup ramen. "Who do you think you are, anyway?"
"Well…" Roark scowls, and uses his fork to catapult a noodle onto Falkner’s face. "I think I’m the weakest Gym Leader in the Nation. And what about you? What do you think you are?"
"I think I’m someone who wants some peace and quiet."
"Whatever you say, bird boy." Roark scoops the soggy cracker out of his ramen and eats it, smirking as Falkner struggles with the pasta. "Whatever you say."
