alstroemeria
Jun 9, 2019 18:20:33 GMT
Post by Aeroblast on Jun 9, 2019 18:20:33 GMT
Originally posted 30th May 2019 (Birthday gift for IncognitoInfo)
Blurb: Paul has never understood the human fascination with touch. Luckily, neither has Electivire.
-----
"When Paul first caught his elekid, the pokédex warned him that as a baby pokémon, it would probably expect physical contact and some degree of mothering. He very nearly benched it on the spot, but something compelled him to keep it.
And Elekid defied every stereotype in the book."
Paul never reached out first when it came to people.
He didn't understand humanity's fascination with touch. Ash and Dawn had high fived over everything; Ash and Brock had never been more than three inches apart, and if they had been, one's hand was always on the other's shoulder or arm; Barry and personal space had never truly been acquainted; and even Reggie spoke with his hands, hand on Maylene's to comfort her or arm over Dawn when she was angry and just needed somebody to listen.
For him, touch wasn't a necessity. It was an inconvenient part of human socialisation, something others believed to be an innate desire and he knew to be a chore. He couldn't wrap his head around the logistics of deriving enjoyment from a hug (too restrictive, he'd feel trapped) or from holding hands (palms grew clammy quickly, and nobody wanted that).
Pokémon were easier. They didn't ask for touch in the same way people presumed they could take it. Electivire didn't seem to care much for contact either, not enough to demand it, and Paul never felt stupid for leaning against the electric type whenever his feet got tired. It wasn't a hug, wasn't an affirmation of their bond. It was utility, plain and simple, and Electivire expected nothing less. They didn't need to cuddle to know what they meant to one another — mutual partners, respect earned through years of proving their worth to one another, whether as a battler or as a tactician.
Battling, though, was easiest. At worst, he had to shake somebody's hand. At best, he could get away with a half-hearted bow from across the field. In the thick of a fight, nobody wanted to wrap their arms around you and talk about their feelings. They just wanted to pummel your team into the dirt and make off with a victory.
It was a language Paul understood better than any. Body language was lost on him; the nuances of speech always flew over his head. He rarely grasped jokes, the meaning of tense shoulders, the weight of implication. But a thunder punch? That was impossible to misunderstand. Electivire's tails wrapped around its fists and sparked with twenty thousand volts, and when it was like this, nothing could stop it.
When Paul first caught his elekid, the pokédex warned him that as a baby pokémon, it would probably expect physical contact and some degree of mothering. He very nearly benched it on the spot, but something compelled him to keep it.
And Elekid defied every stereotype in the book. Not once did it nuzzle close against his leg, or look to him for reassurance in new situations. It stood on its own two feet at his side and asked for nothing more than orders in battle.
Somehow, that aloofness wormed its way into Paul's heart.
The Battle Pyramid looked like an indomitable fortress from the outside. But it wasn't, because Ash had conquered it. It wasn't, because a scrappy kid from Kanto had taken down a regice with his pikachu, and if that wasn't a humiliating sentence, then Paul didn't know what was.
"I thought the third time was meant to be the charm," Reggie quipped from Paul's side, hand in his pockets. He gazed up at the Battle Pyramid with nothing less than wonder. "What's your strategy this time?"
Paul inhaled sharply, throat burning. Exhaled in a rush that did little to soothe it. "I don't have one," he said. "I'm winging it."
Ash hadn't had a strategy going into his battle at the conference and he'd won. Ash hadn't had a strategy going into his final fight against Brandon and he'd won. Paul suspected Ash and strategies had never been friends, but still — in comparison to him, Ash kept winning. He was in Unova now, exploring the world, and Paul was still in Sinnoh, throwing his pokémon into an un-winnable match time and time again and hoping that the outcome would change even though he hadn't.
"Winging it?" Reggie asked with a laugh, ruffling his hair, and Paul fought back the urge to flinch away. It was just his brother. His brother, and he had to battle not to scream at a simple touch. "I hope it pays off for you."
Electivire had never asked to be touched. Electivire had never even liked touch, to Paul's knowledge. Not as an elekid, and certainly not as an electabuzz.
"You know, your electabuzz will never grow up properly socialised if you don't show it any affection," Reggie chastised him once. He reached out to rub Electabuzz's furry flank and received a warning shock in return.
"It doesn't like it," Paul remarked belatedly. "It's just like me."
Brandon's solrock, ninjask and dusclops had all fallen suspiciously easily. Regice had taken down his froslass, but had succumbed to his ursaring's hammer arm. Registeel had taken ursaring, but had fallen to Drapion's pin missile.
And then Regirock had been sent out. 4 vs 1 was supposed to be easy — all calculations pointed towards Paul claiming a simple victory — but this was Brandon, and this was Brandon's regirock, and Paul knew this thing to be a monster of terrifying calibre.
Sure enough, it knocked out his honchkrow with a devastating stone edge from the get-go. Paul had been hoping to get some chip damage with night slash, but Honchkrow just hadn't been strong enough to withstand such a powerful attack.
Drapion fell next, but not without delivering two cross poisons and a poison fang. If Regirock felt any pain from those attacks, it hadn't shown it as it hyper beamed Drapion into submission.
Magmortar, amusingly, fared better. It took a zap cannon like a champ, dodged several stone edges and whittled away at Regirock's defences with flamethrowers so hot they melted its stony armour, keeping it blinded with smog. It was another hyper beam that finally claimed Magmortar, slamming it into a wall with enough force to leave a dizzying crater.
So that left Electivire. Regirock's zap cannon would be ineffective, and its long range attacks could be negated with protect. Thunder was a safe option to disrupt any focus punches, but Paul knew that brick break was key to finally collapsing Brandon's ace.
For that, he had to fight up close and personal. For that, he needed something special.
"Vire?" Electivire rumbled, drawing Paul's attention to it, and he abruptly realised he was shaking. "Electi- vire!"
"I'm… I'm fine, Electivire. Don't worry about it. Just stay focused and do everything I say."
Electivire nodded.
"If you can, protect against any hyper beams and stone edges. Use thunder to stop successful focus punches. Wait for an opening and grab it with your tails."
"Tivire?"
"Yeah." Paul balled his hands into fists. "We're going to win this time."
Paul fell ill shortly after winning the Oreburgh Gym badge. It was nothing more than a fever, hardly fatal, but he felt like he was dying. Too hot, then too cold, parched and then famished and then teetering on the edge of vomiting.
He contemplated calling Reggie, but Reggie was far away, safe in his house, and Paul was in a forest in the middle of nowhere, stuck between cities and shivering in his sleeping bag alone.
Elekid found him eventually. It had been training alone, presumably trying to master light screen in preparation for future battles (with a determination and self-discipline that Paul had never seen in any of his pokémon), and Paul had hoped that it'd stay out there all night. Powerful pokémon needed powerful trainers, and this was far from his strongest moment.
"Vii?" Elekid queried, pushing into the tent. "Vii vii!"
"I'm fine, Elekid," Paul snapped shortly. His tongue felt swollen and fuzzy, vision blurring. "Go back outside. You can't have learned light screen that quickly."
"Vii vii vii," Elekid retorted, and a golden glow flowed around it for a few seconds before dimming. "Vii vii!"
"... okay, maybe you can have," Paul grumbled. "Go back outside anyway. Your thunder still needs some work."
"Vii." Elekid ignored his commands, crawling closer, and that wasn't what Paul expected. "Vii vii." It wriggled into the sleeping bag beside him and shut its eyes, body thrumming with low pulses of electricity that cleared Paul's head and made him feel a little less like he was going to die.
"Elekid?" It was meant to be a reprimand, not a question, but his voice came out small and uncertain. Elekid's response was a slightly sharper pulse of electricity, and then it was still.
(If Paul fell asleep with his arm wrapped around it and his face pressed into its horns, then nobody had to know. They didn't mention it in the morning when Paul's fever had broke, and they continued their journey as though nothing had happened. And they still didn't like touch.)
Regirock shuddered, groaned, and fell with a crash. It didn't get back up.
Brandon stared at it for a few moments, as though his gaze could possibly revive it, then returned it to its poké ball. "... congratulations," he droned, before his face split into a proud grin. "You've conquered the Battle Pyramid."
Paul's legs gave way beneath him and he slid to the floor, chest tight and head pounding. He felt like he was going to throw up, or pass out, or both.
He'd won. He'd won. Reggie had fallen here, discarded years of battling after one measly defeat and he had won.
His journey had started for this, a desperate need to prove Reggie wrong, to show how stupid his brother had been to give up his dreams over one loss. Now, in the wake of victory, he felt strangely numb. He just wanted to sleep.
"Elec?" Above him, Electivire rumbled worriedly, fingers brushing hair out of his eyes. Electivire. It had been with him since Sinnoh's start, withstanding blow after blow from an onix that should have collapsed him from the start. To think Paul had been contemplating discarding him until that point. To think that Electivire had known, even back then, that its place on Paul's team had never been guaranteed. To think that it had known and had still fought, tooth and nail, to be there. Because it had wanted to be there. Still wanted to be here, at Paul's side, despite everything. Maybe because of everything.
"I'm fine," Paul promised, but Electivire still curled its tails around his waist and supported him as he stood. Paul pressed his hand into Electivire's much larger one and stood there for a time, holding onto it. "... thank you. For everything. It was a good battle, and we wouldn't have won if it wasn't for you."
"Tivire," Electivire responded, brushing off the compliment. It was just another day's work, wasn't it? Just another battle against another trainer.
When put like that, it didn't seem so significant. The tightness in Paul's chest abated until he felt like he could breathe again.
"You're right," he amended. "I expect nothing less from you. Come on, Brandon's waiting for us."
He didn't let go of Electivire's hand, and Electivire didn't ask him to. It just squeezed gently and followed him to accept their prize.
"Paul?" Ash asked, voice soft and full of wonder. "What are you doing here?"
The Unova region was loud. Too loud, almost, a far cry from the tranquility of those he knew. Paul knew he belonged here even less than he'd belonged immediately after losing to Ash in the conference.
Electivire wrapped its tails around his waist and set a hand on his shoulder. Ash followed the movements with a blank amazement.
"Brandon sent me," he replied. "He said I need to 'expand my worldview' before becoming a Frontier Brain."
"You…?"
"Yeah. He thinks I'd do well." Behind him, Electivire rumbled its assent.
Ash's face split into a huge grin. "Oh, man, that's awesome! A Frontier Brain! Y'know, I didn't think you'd ever accept something like that. It kinda forces you to stay in one place, right?"
"Not for me." Ash tilted his head quizzically, but Paul didn't elaborate. "How many badges do you have?"
"Just the two, for now. But we're going for our third real soon!"
"Hmph. Catching up should be easy enough."
"So you're entering the league?"
"Of course," Paul said, as if it was obvious. Ash laughed and nodded because it was.
"Guess I'll see you at the league, then?"
"Guess so." He reached up and scratched Electivire's cheek absently, listening to it whirr contentedly. "Electivire's gotten a lot stronger since you last fought it. We should battle sometime."
Ash bounced on the balls of his feet and brandished a poké ball. "How about now?"
"I only have one pokémon!"
"So?" Ash pocketed the poké ball with a sly smile. "Electivire against Pikachu, just like old times. We've gotten stronger too, y'know."
Paul tilted his head back against Electivire's solid weight and looked up at his partner. Electivire gazed back, eyes hard and determined.
"You're on," he agreed, and extended his hand.
Ash stared at it for only a second, eyes like saucers, before he reached out and shook it.
A/N: The Alstroemeria, also known as the Lily of the Incas, stands for "devotion, loyalty."
Reviews/comments are always appreciated! I try to take all constructive criticism into account so I can improve any future writing I do.
Blurb: Paul has never understood the human fascination with touch. Luckily, neither has Electivire.
-----
"When Paul first caught his elekid, the pokédex warned him that as a baby pokémon, it would probably expect physical contact and some degree of mothering. He very nearly benched it on the spot, but something compelled him to keep it.
And Elekid defied every stereotype in the book."
Paul never reached out first when it came to people.
He didn't understand humanity's fascination with touch. Ash and Dawn had high fived over everything; Ash and Brock had never been more than three inches apart, and if they had been, one's hand was always on the other's shoulder or arm; Barry and personal space had never truly been acquainted; and even Reggie spoke with his hands, hand on Maylene's to comfort her or arm over Dawn when she was angry and just needed somebody to listen.
For him, touch wasn't a necessity. It was an inconvenient part of human socialisation, something others believed to be an innate desire and he knew to be a chore. He couldn't wrap his head around the logistics of deriving enjoyment from a hug (too restrictive, he'd feel trapped) or from holding hands (palms grew clammy quickly, and nobody wanted that).
Pokémon were easier. They didn't ask for touch in the same way people presumed they could take it. Electivire didn't seem to care much for contact either, not enough to demand it, and Paul never felt stupid for leaning against the electric type whenever his feet got tired. It wasn't a hug, wasn't an affirmation of their bond. It was utility, plain and simple, and Electivire expected nothing less. They didn't need to cuddle to know what they meant to one another — mutual partners, respect earned through years of proving their worth to one another, whether as a battler or as a tactician.
Battling, though, was easiest. At worst, he had to shake somebody's hand. At best, he could get away with a half-hearted bow from across the field. In the thick of a fight, nobody wanted to wrap their arms around you and talk about their feelings. They just wanted to pummel your team into the dirt and make off with a victory.
It was a language Paul understood better than any. Body language was lost on him; the nuances of speech always flew over his head. He rarely grasped jokes, the meaning of tense shoulders, the weight of implication. But a thunder punch? That was impossible to misunderstand. Electivire's tails wrapped around its fists and sparked with twenty thousand volts, and when it was like this, nothing could stop it.
–000–
When Paul first caught his elekid, the pokédex warned him that as a baby pokémon, it would probably expect physical contact and some degree of mothering. He very nearly benched it on the spot, but something compelled him to keep it.
And Elekid defied every stereotype in the book. Not once did it nuzzle close against his leg, or look to him for reassurance in new situations. It stood on its own two feet at his side and asked for nothing more than orders in battle.
Somehow, that aloofness wormed its way into Paul's heart.
–000–
The Battle Pyramid looked like an indomitable fortress from the outside. But it wasn't, because Ash had conquered it. It wasn't, because a scrappy kid from Kanto had taken down a regice with his pikachu, and if that wasn't a humiliating sentence, then Paul didn't know what was.
"I thought the third time was meant to be the charm," Reggie quipped from Paul's side, hand in his pockets. He gazed up at the Battle Pyramid with nothing less than wonder. "What's your strategy this time?"
Paul inhaled sharply, throat burning. Exhaled in a rush that did little to soothe it. "I don't have one," he said. "I'm winging it."
Ash hadn't had a strategy going into his battle at the conference and he'd won. Ash hadn't had a strategy going into his final fight against Brandon and he'd won. Paul suspected Ash and strategies had never been friends, but still — in comparison to him, Ash kept winning. He was in Unova now, exploring the world, and Paul was still in Sinnoh, throwing his pokémon into an un-winnable match time and time again and hoping that the outcome would change even though he hadn't.
"Winging it?" Reggie asked with a laugh, ruffling his hair, and Paul fought back the urge to flinch away. It was just his brother. His brother, and he had to battle not to scream at a simple touch. "I hope it pays off for you."
–000–
Electivire had never asked to be touched. Electivire had never even liked touch, to Paul's knowledge. Not as an elekid, and certainly not as an electabuzz.
"You know, your electabuzz will never grow up properly socialised if you don't show it any affection," Reggie chastised him once. He reached out to rub Electabuzz's furry flank and received a warning shock in return.
"It doesn't like it," Paul remarked belatedly. "It's just like me."
–000–
Brandon's solrock, ninjask and dusclops had all fallen suspiciously easily. Regice had taken down his froslass, but had succumbed to his ursaring's hammer arm. Registeel had taken ursaring, but had fallen to Drapion's pin missile.
And then Regirock had been sent out. 4 vs 1 was supposed to be easy — all calculations pointed towards Paul claiming a simple victory — but this was Brandon, and this was Brandon's regirock, and Paul knew this thing to be a monster of terrifying calibre.
Sure enough, it knocked out his honchkrow with a devastating stone edge from the get-go. Paul had been hoping to get some chip damage with night slash, but Honchkrow just hadn't been strong enough to withstand such a powerful attack.
Drapion fell next, but not without delivering two cross poisons and a poison fang. If Regirock felt any pain from those attacks, it hadn't shown it as it hyper beamed Drapion into submission.
Magmortar, amusingly, fared better. It took a zap cannon like a champ, dodged several stone edges and whittled away at Regirock's defences with flamethrowers so hot they melted its stony armour, keeping it blinded with smog. It was another hyper beam that finally claimed Magmortar, slamming it into a wall with enough force to leave a dizzying crater.
So that left Electivire. Regirock's zap cannon would be ineffective, and its long range attacks could be negated with protect. Thunder was a safe option to disrupt any focus punches, but Paul knew that brick break was key to finally collapsing Brandon's ace.
For that, he had to fight up close and personal. For that, he needed something special.
"Vire?" Electivire rumbled, drawing Paul's attention to it, and he abruptly realised he was shaking. "Electi- vire!"
"I'm… I'm fine, Electivire. Don't worry about it. Just stay focused and do everything I say."
Electivire nodded.
"If you can, protect against any hyper beams and stone edges. Use thunder to stop successful focus punches. Wait for an opening and grab it with your tails."
"Tivire?"
"Yeah." Paul balled his hands into fists. "We're going to win this time."
–000–
Paul fell ill shortly after winning the Oreburgh Gym badge. It was nothing more than a fever, hardly fatal, but he felt like he was dying. Too hot, then too cold, parched and then famished and then teetering on the edge of vomiting.
He contemplated calling Reggie, but Reggie was far away, safe in his house, and Paul was in a forest in the middle of nowhere, stuck between cities and shivering in his sleeping bag alone.
Elekid found him eventually. It had been training alone, presumably trying to master light screen in preparation for future battles (with a determination and self-discipline that Paul had never seen in any of his pokémon), and Paul had hoped that it'd stay out there all night. Powerful pokémon needed powerful trainers, and this was far from his strongest moment.
"Vii?" Elekid queried, pushing into the tent. "Vii vii!"
"I'm fine, Elekid," Paul snapped shortly. His tongue felt swollen and fuzzy, vision blurring. "Go back outside. You can't have learned light screen that quickly."
"Vii vii vii," Elekid retorted, and a golden glow flowed around it for a few seconds before dimming. "Vii vii!"
"... okay, maybe you can have," Paul grumbled. "Go back outside anyway. Your thunder still needs some work."
"Vii." Elekid ignored his commands, crawling closer, and that wasn't what Paul expected. "Vii vii." It wriggled into the sleeping bag beside him and shut its eyes, body thrumming with low pulses of electricity that cleared Paul's head and made him feel a little less like he was going to die.
"Elekid?" It was meant to be a reprimand, not a question, but his voice came out small and uncertain. Elekid's response was a slightly sharper pulse of electricity, and then it was still.
(If Paul fell asleep with his arm wrapped around it and his face pressed into its horns, then nobody had to know. They didn't mention it in the morning when Paul's fever had broke, and they continued their journey as though nothing had happened. And they still didn't like touch.)
–000–
Regirock shuddered, groaned, and fell with a crash. It didn't get back up.
Brandon stared at it for a few moments, as though his gaze could possibly revive it, then returned it to its poké ball. "... congratulations," he droned, before his face split into a proud grin. "You've conquered the Battle Pyramid."
Paul's legs gave way beneath him and he slid to the floor, chest tight and head pounding. He felt like he was going to throw up, or pass out, or both.
He'd won. He'd won. Reggie had fallen here, discarded years of battling after one measly defeat and he had won.
His journey had started for this, a desperate need to prove Reggie wrong, to show how stupid his brother had been to give up his dreams over one loss. Now, in the wake of victory, he felt strangely numb. He just wanted to sleep.
"Elec?" Above him, Electivire rumbled worriedly, fingers brushing hair out of his eyes. Electivire. It had been with him since Sinnoh's start, withstanding blow after blow from an onix that should have collapsed him from the start. To think Paul had been contemplating discarding him until that point. To think that Electivire had known, even back then, that its place on Paul's team had never been guaranteed. To think that it had known and had still fought, tooth and nail, to be there. Because it had wanted to be there. Still wanted to be here, at Paul's side, despite everything. Maybe because of everything.
"I'm fine," Paul promised, but Electivire still curled its tails around his waist and supported him as he stood. Paul pressed his hand into Electivire's much larger one and stood there for a time, holding onto it. "... thank you. For everything. It was a good battle, and we wouldn't have won if it wasn't for you."
"Tivire," Electivire responded, brushing off the compliment. It was just another day's work, wasn't it? Just another battle against another trainer.
When put like that, it didn't seem so significant. The tightness in Paul's chest abated until he felt like he could breathe again.
"You're right," he amended. "I expect nothing less from you. Come on, Brandon's waiting for us."
He didn't let go of Electivire's hand, and Electivire didn't ask him to. It just squeezed gently and followed him to accept their prize.
–000–
"Paul?" Ash asked, voice soft and full of wonder. "What are you doing here?"
The Unova region was loud. Too loud, almost, a far cry from the tranquility of those he knew. Paul knew he belonged here even less than he'd belonged immediately after losing to Ash in the conference.
Electivire wrapped its tails around his waist and set a hand on his shoulder. Ash followed the movements with a blank amazement.
"Brandon sent me," he replied. "He said I need to 'expand my worldview' before becoming a Frontier Brain."
"You…?"
"Yeah. He thinks I'd do well." Behind him, Electivire rumbled its assent.
Ash's face split into a huge grin. "Oh, man, that's awesome! A Frontier Brain! Y'know, I didn't think you'd ever accept something like that. It kinda forces you to stay in one place, right?"
"Not for me." Ash tilted his head quizzically, but Paul didn't elaborate. "How many badges do you have?"
"Just the two, for now. But we're going for our third real soon!"
"Hmph. Catching up should be easy enough."
"So you're entering the league?"
"Of course," Paul said, as if it was obvious. Ash laughed and nodded because it was.
"Guess I'll see you at the league, then?"
"Guess so." He reached up and scratched Electivire's cheek absently, listening to it whirr contentedly. "Electivire's gotten a lot stronger since you last fought it. We should battle sometime."
Ash bounced on the balls of his feet and brandished a poké ball. "How about now?"
"I only have one pokémon!"
"So?" Ash pocketed the poké ball with a sly smile. "Electivire against Pikachu, just like old times. We've gotten stronger too, y'know."
Paul tilted his head back against Electivire's solid weight and looked up at his partner. Electivire gazed back, eyes hard and determined.
"You're on," he agreed, and extended his hand.
Ash stared at it for only a second, eyes like saucers, before he reached out and shook it.
A/N: The Alstroemeria, also known as the Lily of the Incas, stands for "devotion, loyalty."
Reviews/comments are always appreciated! I try to take all constructive criticism into account so I can improve any future writing I do.
