The Trapped and the Searching (AU) - Morty and Steven
"I'm heading to school now." A soft voice spoke in the seemingly empty room. Seconds passed before a small thump resounded clearly followed by several faint knocks, as if someone was replying to his words using Morse code. With his brown pack slung over his right shoulder, a blonde teenager awaited patiently as he understood that this part needed to be taken as slow as possible. A few more seconds went by before he felt it.
Goosebumps ran up the length of his arms and the back of his neck as the temperature around those areas dropped significantly due to a chillingly frigid sensation. Instead of being discomforted - or if he responded normally, downright terrified - lilac pools softened, eyes sliding half shut as a small smile flourished the tall male's lips. "I love you too," he uttered as the literal Death's embrace retracted, allowing his body heat to warm up the icy cool areas.
With a small nod, Morty slowly exited the living area and headed to the front door where he took his sweet time on wearing his shoes. What was the rush honestly? Judging by the time displayed on the wall clock, the blonde student had around three hours before classes even started. After the simple routine was done, he rose to full height, effectively showing his lean 6'1" frame to the fullest before he stepped out through the main door but not before whispering a quick goodbye.
As the door swung shut, it was only through his eyes that one could see the faded outlines of a hunched old woman with a smile crinkling her wrinkly cheeks.
The scent of fresh dew and the cool morning air that thoroughly embraced the teen male awakened his still sleepy mind even further than the cup of green tea that he had before. Now that the he walked further away from his humble abode, the familiar sense of gloom slowly wrapped around his heart. Despite the earlier comforts, it was still not enough to truly chase away the constant storm cloud floating above his head.
Invisible cool touches reminded Morty of the frigid embrace earlier and had to bit back a wry smile at how contradicting and different it was if compared to others. For many, a comforting hug was supposed to be solid and warm and one should be able to inhale the scent of their loved ones during the cuddle, For him, it was terribly cold and jelly like and trying to breath in any scent would result in him coughing his lungs out. Despite that, it still gave him reassurance so it wasn't all bad.
Slivers of white stretched across the darkened sky as they slowly chased away the twinkling stars and in the same moment, forced a majority of the lingering spirits to slink back into the shadows. Not that anyone else noticed of course. It was simply his blessedly cursed special sight that picked up the lingering wisps and see through bodies scattering away. As always, he forced his body to act as if he did not see them and the best way to do that was simply watching how one foot step in front of the other.
How long have I been doing this? Trapped between social normalcy and my 'uniqueness'?
With his unruly golden locks curtaining the desolated amethyst gems, it was inevitable that in his mechanically walking state and wandering thoughts, Morty's lean frame partly collided with another. A simple shoulder bump but it was enough to pull him out of his trance. Briefly flicking his eyes upwards, tufts of silver and a set of golden orbs briefly caught his attention as a soft "I'm sorry," passed through his thin lips, gaze automatically shifted down afterwards before his feet marched on.
If the blonde had taken a moment to truly observed his surroundings, then he might have noticed that the area he was passing through was almost completely devoid of people, given that humanity in general were still tucked away in their beds and the ones who were out on the streets were too busy with their own lives and schedule to noticed that a random kid had apparently bumped into nothing and spoke to thin air.
Steven Stone lived up to his name. Not in the whole reputation sense, although he lived up to that too, but in the whole stone and rocks part of it.
And after a particularly nasty trip through a cave, the man had found himself barraged with a ton of crushed stones. It didn't appear any major damage had been done, and Heather had been tasked with healing him and his pokemon.
On one end of the examination table, Heather was patching up his shiny Aron, Wu-Tang, since the pokemon had been walking with him and experienced a bit more damage than the ones that had helped Steven out of the mess. On the other end sat Steven, lazily swinging his legs back and forth after finding out all his pokemon would be okay.
"Check for head injuries." She instructed and received an inquisitive look in return. A soft sigh left her lips, "Try running your fingers through your hair. Check for bumps or tender spots." He nodded and did as he was told, earning a nod of approval from the nurse.
The colour gold reminds the Rocket of a young boy he had encountered during his pre-Giovanni-disappearance days. He remembers the shocking gold of his eyes that held passion to take down Rocket. The boy wasn't alone, though. He was accompanied by two others—
Her posture is straight and regal, and her eyes are soft like the sea on a tranquil day. —and there was formal Steven.She reaches up and adjusts the pretend-tie and pulls at the collar of her shirt; uncomfortable– is the expression that she wears, even in the smile that pulls at her expression while she bowed and laughed and curtsied at the shadows on the walls.—seething Steven;Whose hands are crossed behind his back even while he posture was a strange mix of submissively defiant; yes father, mouthed as she morphs into the next Steven.
—heartless Steven. But it's only because she's not there—there's no need to pretend; no need to imitate.
They hate each other.But a part of Nixon knows that they are too similar for comfort and that's what forces him to take a look at himself and his attitudes constantly to change everything he didn't like in Steven.In a way, he evaluates himself to be different from jerk-wad over here and strives to be better than the other could ever hope to be.
He will probably eventually try to challenge Steven to a battle.
