It’s not that Wally doesn’t want to talk to Lucas. He does! Lucas has been fantastic. They haven’t met up again since the conference in Jubilife City, but they’ve talked often enough. They’re... friends. Or at least, Wally likes to think so. He doesn’t have a lot of experience with friends that aren’t pokemon. He used to but... obviously he wasn’t that good at it.
(Thinking about Brendon makes him sad in a old, achy way.)
He doesn’t think he needs to have a lot of experience to know that you’re not supposed to lie to your friends, though. And he is, lying that is. He’s been lying for months now, ever since he returned home and joined Team Aqua. Now he’s squirreled away in a little hidey hole in Po Town, as private as it gets around Team Skull’s base, putting off his and Lucas’ weekly phone call. The same way he has been for the past two weeks.
So no, it’s not that he doesn’t want to talk to Lucas, he just... doesn’t want to talk to Lucas. Wally sighs in frustration, staring down at the glassy smooth surface of his phone. Whether or not Wally WANTS to talk to Lucas, doesn’t matter, it’s no longer an option not to call him, because now it’s an assignment. Call the pokemon professor’s assistant, find out what, if anything, he knows about how the pokemon are being affected by the odd changes in the weather, and report back.
It’s all kind of sad that he’s waited until he was ordered to call his friend to actually talk to him.
Wally settles himself more comfortably in his chosen hide away, firming up his resolve. He’s an adult, he can call his friend without having a nervous meltdown over it. Without giving himself anymore time to stall he selects Lucas’ number and sets up a camcall. His little portrait in the corner looks sick.
With the gym being shut down (due to lack of access to the storage system... he’s sure Bill will get around to it.. eventually), Green’s spent most of his well-deserved downtime lounging around his flat, munching on Rage Candy Bars (his sweet tooth is acting up), doing jack.
Is this the kind of adult he is? The type who works nearly seven days a week, doesn’t know what to do with themselves when they’ve got a bit of downtime? See, this wasn’t a problem when he was in his teens, he’d skip town so often he’d get complaints from hopeful trainers with the Elite Four in their sight, an empty gym with no Green Oak was very much a nuisance. Daisy thought she’d be cute and start giving out his number at one point, occupying his Sunday nights for years following up until he up and bounced to Kalos for a year. Still, he hadn’t had it in him to confront his sister about it, the woman would be all kicked puppy faces and Green would’ve caved.
He’s twenty-one and the early breaches of twilight were threatening to paint the sky. He’s twenty-one and he’s holed up in his apartment going to town on tooth-rotting sweets. What kind of sad little existence? He’s already taken his weekly trip down to the bar... screw it, he’ll go again. A little socialization will do him some good. What real choice does he have? Red, nor anyone else he considers a friend are around to sate the attention Green craves.
If only he could find his glasses, in which, he hasn’t seen in ages. Contacts seem the likely choice for the particular outing but he’s had this same pair thrown in as long as his glasses went M.I.A. It was starting to bug, his eyes needed a break.
Coat hugging his frame, the gym leader makes it down to Pallet, probably just left ‘em with Daisy. She hasn’t seen them. With the promise of stopping by for tea soon, and she was persistent, glasses-less, he sets off for the lab, and maybe it sounds bad, but he’d sorta hoped the resident professor wasn’t around. Quick in, quick out, no awkwardness in between.
No Samuel Oak in sight, though someone else was. Green gives him a quick lookover, “Lucas, right?” Before turning away, rummaging through his grandfather’s things, “I’m Green, but I’m sure you already know that.”
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He knows Lucas was looking at his ass in those bike shorts. He knows. (And doesn’t mind as much as he should.) The extra vigorous bike trip might have been because he wanted just a little revenge though, and there was more than a little amusement at how sore Lucas was the next day.
Because Sam is awful at remembering to cook for himself, and buy food in general, he and Lucas end up eating cereal for most meals when they’re together. Consequently, a bowl of cold cereal and a cup of coffee tends to remind Sam of Lucas.
Sam is determined to see Lucas succeed in his career path, and is not so subtly hoping Lucas stays in research and potentially pursues a career as a Pokemon Professor. He’s been lightly pulling strings with his contacts in the scientific field lately, just to see what opportunities might be out there for Lucas.
“Sure. I like a lot of someones.” What a shit he is. “People are alright.”
“As for some silly ass schoolboy crush, nah. No one’s managed to snag my attention for a hot minute.” But 3am often strikes whether his eyes lie awake, alone, hooded and heavy with fatigue yet riddled with insomnia, or he’s panting postcoital in the arms of a someone labelled no one, wondering what it feels like to be held by someone who loves you.
♬: based off the first song that comes up on my itunes after putting it on shuffle
this last call could be all we cando for each otherembrace for a dear old friendbring wine to bedwe’ll toast what could have been
dearly departed - marianas trench
Sam wakes to the streaming of streetlights through the curtains and his face buried in Lucas’s hair. There’s no moment of epiphany, no realization of the night’s events coming back to him all of a sudden, no oh god what have I done? Just quiet and darkness and Lucas in his arms.
There’s no room to be surprised at his own actions. This was an inevitability. Sam always blurs the lines between friendship and romance and the bleed-through is what’s ruined every great friendship and romance he’s had. Sam can’t keep his hands to himself until he does--friends to lovers to bitterness and distance.
Lucas sighs in his sleep, stirs, shifts unconsciously closer to Sam. It hurts. An emotional pain almost manifest physically. He can’t do that to Lucas. The thought makes him restless, makes him feel sick to the stomach, sick to the head.
Sometimes, Sam isn’t sure how he lives with himself. It’s been happening more often than not lately.
“Are you awake?”
He gets out of bed when there’s no reply. His skin is chilly where Lucas had been pressed to his chest. It’s not yet daybreak, but Sam is up, too jittery to go back to sleep, too disappointed in himself to go back to bed. There’s nothing else to do so he gets ready for work on autopilot, pads into the bathroom and spends too long in the shower, water almost scalding on his skin, as if that might wash away his sins.
Later, he’ll go down and bury himself more than wholeheartedly in his research, an acceptable and customary escape. Later, he’ll text Lucas a little white lie about there being an accident in the lab that made him rush out before Lucas woke up. It’s better this way. Lucas deserves better and Sam... feels dirty because of this, because of his flirtation with Giovanni, because he’s the worst thing for everyone and he has the habit of wanting the worst things for himself.
Now, he sinks into the basin of the tub, knees pulled up to his chest, and cries over a friendship he can’t let himself ruin and a person he can’t let himself have.
Send me a ❤ for something I enjoy about your writing and/or muse!
i think i’ve talked about this before but you write really realistic dialogue and it’s fantastic. i’ve seen you write a lot of different characters over the years and you give each character a very distinct voice, which is something i and a lot of other muns personally struggle with. so def props to you there
i also just really love how awkward lucas is, it makes participating in/reading your threads really entertaining, but i basically just love it whenever you play super awkward muses man
Send me a URL and I'll post 10 house rules their muse and mine would have if they lived together
Sam&Lucas
Munchlax is not allowed in the lab unsupervised. He will eat every piece of research he can find.
Sam must check in every hour on dates with his mafia boss boyfriend, or Lucas will assume the worst and send an email to Rowan about Sam’s tragic death. Again.
Giovanni is no longer allowed to spend the night in the house.
Or the lab.
Bunsen burners are lab equipment, and their intended use is not toasting marshmallows or reheating cold coffee.
Do not feed Princess human food. Gengar don’t need to eat, so she’ll just get fat.
Lucas and Sam’s Porygons need to be separated at night, or they’ll get bored and start making the AOL noise back and forth at each other for several hours.
Cyrus is not allowed to spend the night either.
Do not bring up the New Years Party.
Sam may drink more than he should, but the things he says after a few glasses of wine still shouldn’t be repeated back to him after he’s sobered up.
Cyrus&Guzma
Bling is to be stored in jewelry boxes, not all over Cyrus’s nightstand, or in the medicine cabinet, or all over the kitchen.
Cyrus is not to go on his morning runs unattended.
“I understand that the couch may be uncomfortable, however that does not give you permission to climb into my bed. Please let go of me.”
Cyrus has very little concept of time left after being in the Torn World, and sometimes needs to be reminded to take his medicine/eat dinner/go to bed.
Cyrus isn’t allowed to complain about Guzma’s TV choices after getting caught watching Say Yes To The Dress while Guzma wasn’t supposed to be home.
Do not touch Cyrus’s telescope.
Cyrus is incredibly grateful for the help around the house, though he’ll never say so to Guzma’s face.
Guzma needs to give Cyrus at least a day’s warning before having Plumeria or other friends over.
The same goes for Cyrus. No one, especially Guzma, wants to come home to find Giovanni sitting on their couch.
Friendship bracelets are an acceptable gift. Cyrus will act as though he doesn’t care, but probably cry over the bracelet alone later, and put it somewhere for safekeeping.
Lys&Malva
As the house has been overrun with them, Lysandre is no longer allowed to bring home stray Litleo.
Or Shinx.
Or Litten.
If Malva doesn’t tease Lysandre for naming his Luxray Augustine, Lysandre won’t comment on Malva’s Diantha posters while company is over.
Friday nights are for gossiping and painting each others’ nails.
Lysandre is an acceptable pillow and space heater on cold days, so Malva is welcome to lay on him while he complains about not being able to get any work done.
Any of Lysandre or Malva’s potential romantic partners need to go through a rigorous approval process with the other, since they both have the worst taste.
Just don’t bring up Sycamore while Lysandre is around. Just don’t.
No, Malva is not eating all the cookies Lysandre stress baked, it’s way too many for any human to consume.
Lysandre is extremely vain and needs to be told he’s pretty at least once a week.
Siren gets stuck in tidepool. Friendly cabin boy helps him out. We need to go deeper
Siren Cyrus usually manages to time his expeditions appropriately so as to avoid events like this occurring. But time has been a little fuzzy the past few years, and it's become all too easy to lose track of things. Thus, getting stuck in an early morning tide pool of all things. He doesn't quite fit, fins caught on the rocks, torso barely submerged in the shallow water. To top it off, he's been listening to movement from the rocks around him for the last ten minutes, footsteps, no doubt belonging to one of the humans who had docked nearby even earlier that morning. With any luck, whoever it is won't come close to him, and he can get back out to sea as soon as the tide rolls back in later in the day. Irritated, scraped up, and a little dehydrated, Cyrus awkwardly shifts around so he can pull his head under the water, eyes closing. There isn't any way that he can make himself less vulnerable if the human does wander around this side of the rocks, so he might as well make himself comfortable.
Cabin Boy Lucas can't believe he got stuck on dinghy duty again. Captain Rowan's research vessel has been running low on supplies, so naturally, early that morning when land was spotted, the dinghy was sent out to scout the place to see what food could be found. But, as always, Lucas is the one stuck minding the tiny, sorry excuse for a boat while the others actually get to see more than just another beach. He's been wandering up and down it for the last several hours, looking for anything remotely interesting that the waves forced upon the shore. So far, there's been a few shells, but nothing really out of the ordinary. The rock formation that springs up out of the sand looks like a decent place to play lookout though. It's a bit slippery, but he makes his way up and over and then freezes. What the heck is that? There's something that looks like half a massive fish caught in a tidepool, but... the proportions are off. Tentatively, he approaches, feet careful on the slick rocks as he moves closer and kneels next to the tide pool, his eyes going wide. That's definitely half a person under the water. No idea what to do, he acts on impulse and reaches into the water, poking the... person's chest, looking for signs of life.
Siren Cyrus , startled, jerks his head upwards out of the water upon being touched, tail thrashing on the rocks as he recoils. He hisses, half out of the pain of scales scraping on rock, and fixes pale eyes on the human before him. He's young, looks barely an adult, but that doesn't stop Cyrus from baring rows of sharp teeth at him in an obvious threat. "Touch me again and you won't get that back," he snaps, a steely edge to his soft voice, and jerks his head in the direction of Lucas's hand.
Cabin Boy Lucas yanks his hand back as he sits back on his feet, leaning away from the tidepool. Whatever this person is, Lucas doesn't want to get any closer to those teeth of his. Although... something about that voice keeps him from bolting back down the rocks to the rest of the beach. "Sorry. Just thought you might be dead they way you were lying there." Which... isn't a great explanation for why he decided to just start touching him, but it's all Lucas has got. His eyes flick over the strange creature, lingering on his tail. "What happened? Did a wave knock you onto the rocks or something?" He should probably stop asking questions and just run away, but his curiosity always gets the best of him at the worst of times.
Siren Cyrus makes a noncommittal noise and looks away, the briefest flashes of irritation and something like embarrassment crossing his otherwise stone-cold face. While Cyrus would have preferred to have succeeded in scaring him off, at least he doesn't seem to be posing any immediate threat, which is more than can be said for the pirates that occasionally frequent the shore. And he doesn't seem familiar with creatures like Cyrus--which will also likely turn out to be for the better. "No," he starts stiffly. "I was studying the creatures that live near the shore, and was stranded by the tide going out."
Cabin Boy Lucas nods slowly, still staring at that tail. "What are you?" he asks before he can stop himself. It's probably a rude question, but the strange creature looks like something out of a storybook. And after all, the whole reason he came along on this voyage to begin with was to find new, amazing things. "Do you, uh... do you need help to get back in the water?" Lucas might be able to lift him, he doesn't look particularly heavy, but he's not about to try to touch him again without permission.
Siren Cyrus glances back up at him, eyes wavering this way and that, silver fins twitching restlessly. "I would say your captain must be negligent if he hasn't warned you of my kind. I was under the impression you humans traded horror stories about us to frighten the younger sailors." His mouth twitches into a frown. The human will figure it out sooner or later. "Fortunately for you, I don't sing anymore." Cyrus lets that sit for a moment, and when he speaks again, it's reluctantly. "As loath as I am to admit it, I suppose I'm not in a situation to turn down help."
Cabin Boy Lucas blinks for a second before the dots connect. Oh. Well, that sort of explains it. He's heard stories about sirens, but Captain Rowan had never dwelt on them for long. That means he should probably back up a lot farther, but... just leaving him there wouldn't be right. "Alright, I can try to get you down to the water. Just uh... try not to wiggle around much, and maybe don't drown me when I get you there?" He should probably try to get the creature to make some sort of agreement, but he's never heard of sirens not being able to lie, so it probably wouldn't mean much. Carefully, he moves forward again, tentatively reaching to scoop the siren into his arms.
Siren Cyrus bites back a grimace as he's picked up out of the water, the sensation of being pulled into the air unpleasant and foreign (not to mention what an uncomfortable and dangerous position it puts him in, quite literally at this stranger's mercy). Still, he does as he's told, and goes still in the human's arms. His skin is warm, Cyrus notes clinically, was he curls one cold hand over the human's shoulder to steady himself. Like the shoreline on a particularly sunny day, rather than the freezing depths Cyrus is accustomed to. "I haven't intentionally drowned anything in a long time, and certainly not anything that didn't deserve it. What's your name?"
Cabin Boy Lucas keeps his eyes fixed on the rocks, moving a bit more carefully and slowly than he did when he approached the tidepool. The last thing he needs to do is lose his footing now. His focus is so intent that he nearly misses the question. "Huh? Oh, uh, it's Lucas. But you could call me Luc if you want, most people do. What's yours?" It occurs to him a moment later that he's never heard of sirens having names before, but it seems like they should.
Siren Cyrus repeats the name, lets it roll off his tongue, quiet but heavy with some sort of indiscernible intent. "Luc. Alright. I am Cyrus." That's all he says about himself, however, too intent on winding his arms all the way around Luc's neck--the human seems a bit unsteady on the rocks, and Cyrus would rather take the human down with him than be dropped outright. "That's quite a leap of faith you've just taken, Luc. I haven't met many of your kind who would get close enough to a siren without fear of being tempted."
Cabin Boy Lucas redoubles his focus on the rocks under his feet, because there's something... odd about the way the creature--Cyrus is saying his name that he doesn't want to dwell on just yet, and the cool arms around his neck send a shudder down his spin that he definitely doesn't need to think about. He gets back to the sand and feels slightly more confident in his steps as he heads toward the water. "Uh, well, I didn't know what you were so..." He stops himself there, feeling a mess of rambling about to fall from his lips. Eyes on the water, he tries to ignore the way his face feels a little warm. It's definitely just the sun, which is climbing high overhead now. "But what was I supposed to do, just leave you there? I'm not quite that heartless."
Siren Cyrus can't help but notice the way Luc gets very flustered as a result of the comment, but baiting humans like this isn't as satisfying as it once was, so Cyrus leaves it be. "It was an option. It has happened before, I simply would have had to wait for the tide to come back in, and I'm more than accustomed to waiting. It crossed my mind that perhaps I should have declined and waited, rather than allow a young human to assist me... as I now owe you a debt." And what does Cyrus have to offer him? He can't think of much, so he continues, monotone. "In the very least, I'm sure this will make a fascinating tale for your crewmates, assuming you're a sailor. That you came nose to nose with a siren and survived."
Cabin Boy Lucas blinks, taken slightly by surprise. "But I don't want anything," he says, realizing a moment after the words leave his mouth just how blunt they are. But it's true. He can't think of anything the siren could offer him. Do they grant wishes? No, that doesn't sound right, and all he would wish for is to not get stuck watching the boat again. He scrunches up his face as he shifts his grip a little, making sure not to drop Cyrus too soon as he steps into the shallow water. "I am, but I don't really like talking to them. I don't really like talking to most people. How far out do you need to be to not get beached again?" he asks, glad to change the subject.
Siren Cyrus considers the question in silence for a moment, considers Luc. He almost comments on the apparent solitude, I don't really like talking to most people. It would make him a perfect target for Cyrus to drag out to sea, if the siren was so inclined. He likely has few friends, wouldn't be as missed as others. It's a feeling Cyrus himself is intimately familiar with, and makes the idea of drowning Luc even less appealing than it had been. Instead, he addresses the question, a counter instead of an answer: "How far are you willing to go?"
Cabin Boy Lucas feels like that's probably a trick question. Though he's only heard stories of sirens here and there, most of them don't end well, and he's certainly just walked himself into one. "I don't wanna go where I can't stand," he says, deciding to go for honesty. Cyrus isn't particularly large, so that hopefully shouldn't be a problem. The water creeps up his legs as he wades further out, stopping when it reaches his waist. "How about here?"
Siren Cyrus thinks, privately, that where Luc is standing, waist deep, is probably fine--but he doesn't relish the idea of being at anyone's feet, even Luc's. "It doesn't drop off until much farther out. I don't suppose I could convince you to go a bit deeper, hm? You do have my word, I'm not about to drag you under the water. I would simply rather not scrape my scales up on the sand, after the beating I already took with those rocks."
Cabin Boy Lucas hesitates, eyeing the water dubiously. It doesn't look as though it drops off for a while, but he's never been the best judge of that. He resists the urge to glance back toward the shore. His crewmates are probably still going to be a few hours. At least it doesn't sound like Cyrus is lying, and he had said that he owes him a debt. Luc takes a few more steps, the water rising up his chest. Feeling a few rocks underfoot, he moves slightly to the side, finding sand again, the water nearing his shoulders. "Is this better? I don't think there's any rocks here."
Siren Cyrus takes the opportunity to slide from Luc's arms, the water now deep enough for him to comfortably do so. His hands drag down over the sodden fabric at Luc's chest, and Cyrus pauses there for just a moment, palms pressed flat against the human's chest, fins brushing against his legs. "Yes. Thank you." The smile Cyrus offers him is small, and tight-lipped, but Luc will likely never know how rare of a gesture it is, all the same--this, too, is for the better. Cyrus lifts his hands from Lucas's chest. He's lingering too long. "Farewell, Luc. And... do try to be more cautious next time, many of my kind wouldn't be as merciful as I have been." And then, not giving Luc a chance to respond, Cyrus slips beneath the water's surface, becoming just another shadow on the sand.
