Anything you can do...

[Wrath]

If Paul had felt any sort of positive interest in the emo-haired redhead he was battling before, it was immediately smashed down when the boy spoke. One word in particular affected Paul deeply, and not in a good way. In fact, it practically made him see red. LOVER?![/b]
This was Blondie’s fault. Stupid, stupid Blondie giving off some weird aura that prevented Paul from punching him out and just getting the hell out of there. All Paul could think now was that he wished he had just stolen Reggie’s damned Staraptor (It really was more his than Reggie’s anyway), used the damned bird as his starter instead, then he’d be able to get onto his damned back at this moment and get away from damned Blondie and the damned redhead.
Damion wasn’t his lover! No! Hell no! Sure, Paul didn’t exactly hate the boy, and yes he was feeling unusual emotions he’d never encountered before, but—PAUL JUST NEEDED TIME TO SORT THIS SHIT OUT.

He just needed a moment alone somewhere quiet, and he’d figure everything out. He’d realize that Blondie held no hold over him and he’d suddenly have no qualms about hurting him. He’d be able to repair his mental armour, and find the flaw in it that caused him to feel empathy and other useless emotions toward Damion. Unfortunately, since there seemed to be people popping up randomly from every direction, a moment alone in silence seemed impossible.
Paul was immeasurably humiliated that his weakness had been witnessed. And by a younger boy, no less. But like a Persian backed into a corner by a group of Mightyena, Paul wasn’t going to cower; he was going to go down fighting.

The embarrassment he felt flowed in with his ceaseless anger, creating a rather violent reaction. Paul wasn’t known for his wit, and crafty insults weren’t his strong point, but he had an endless store of threats, and when he looked at the redhead, he knew he’d have no problem whatsoever beating him to within an inch of his sorry life.

“SHUT UP, ASSHOLE! I WILL FUCKING WRING YOUR NECK! YOU DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT, SO JUST SHUT THE HELL UP!” Paul spat with enough hate to make a congregation of Togepi become murderous. His eyes narrowed even more than normal, turning into nothing more than black slits. His shoulders hunched and his arms tensed, he took a step toward the younger boy, his hands curling into familiar fists. Who needed to use flowery insults when you were as simplistically violent as Paul?
Maybe Reeper was a pathetic battler, but the purple-haired boy was quite confident he could kick the redhead’s ass easily. And it was no matter he was younger. Anyone who spoke like a pretentious adult did not have the ‘I’m just a kid’ excuse, in Paul’s mind.

However, when Paul realized that his pokemon was on its back, basically helpless, he realized very bitterly that he was having a lot of trouble focusing, and that the redhead did have a point.
Normally nothing could yank the boy out of battling-focused-state, but it seemed to be happening an awful lot today. Paul naturally blamed Blondie, but he didn’t spare the boy a look, only glaring coldly at his Mareep. Paul noticed with annoyance that the Turtwig was still standing very near Reeper. He shot a frustrated and angry look backwards towards its trainer, hearing the red-scarfed boy give a yelped ‘sorry’, and rolling his eyes. He turned back to the battle to see Sneasel preparing an Icy Wind attack.
“Dammit, Reeper! GET ON YOUR FEET, AND COUNTER IT WITH THUNDERSHOCK!” Paul ordered, his lip curling in disgust. He blinked twice in surprise when a flash of red surged past him in the form of the Turtwig’s trainer. The purple-hair boy raised a questioning eyebrow as the boy shielded the Turtwig from the Sneasel’s Icy Wind, taking the attack himself.

“Heh. And I thought Blondie was the most pathetic one here,” He commented absently.

Reeper was still on his back, watching as the Sneasel leaped up over his head, about to unleash an attack. But he was still winded and shocked from being knocked upside down, and he was slow to react to his trainer’s command. He simply stared upwards in terror as the vicious blast of cold air and icy daggers shot down at his exposed stomach. He let out a pitiful bleat as he was enveloped in the cold. It sliced right through his fleece, and settled into his very core. It hurt beyond belief. Such pure, merciless cold, Reeper felt his head swimming. He felt as he inhaled the chill enter his lungs, and it sliced his throat from the inside, making the small sheep taste blood. And that was when the icy daggers hit.
Reeper screamed as the sharp bits of ice hit him, cutting him all over. The cuts were shallow, yes, but there were so many of them!

Paul watched this and heaved a frustrated sigh, crossing his arms and rolling his eyes. He slouched closer to Reeper, pulling out the sheep’s pokeball. He paused before returning the shivering sheep, however, staring at it before speaking.
“That was pathetic. You’re weak. Useless. Now unless you get stronger, shit like that’s gonna keep happening. So smarten up, and maybe you stand a chance of not being released.” Paul spat, at which point the Mareep gave a tiny whimper, still shivering madly.
Assured that his message had sunk in, Paul lifted the pokeball and returned his pokemon.. He smirked at the pokeball for a moment, recalling Reeper’s cries of pain. The point of the battle had been simply to expose Reeper to some pain, and that had obviously happened. Even though he had effectively lost, the battle had been a success. With this in mind, Paul kept a strangely proud and malicious air about him, despite his rather humiliating performance.
He paid barely any attention to the shivering boy huddling the Turtwig, rolling his eyes in disgust and beginning to walk away from the three trainers. The Grass-type was going to end up spoiled as hell if he kept that up. Whatever, one less idiot for Paul to worry about in the future.
However, as he was leaving, he made the mistake of glancing over at Damion. He was still on the ground, and he was looking at him with that same awe, but now it was mixed in with hurt and sadness.
Paul paused, and stopped moving away, looking at Damion for a second with his hands in his pockets. He didn’t want to leave the boy looking like that. That would have been…it made him feel…unpleasant inside. Paul cursed under his breath in frustration. The blond said something about making him want to spend time with Damion. Why did Blondie like him so much? He’d done his best to chase the boy away, but everything that would have made anyone normal flee in terror and intimidation seemed to make Damion want to be near him even more. He needed to be meaner. It seemed Paul wasn’t strong enough to leave the damned blond behind, so he needed to make the boy leave him.
“Heh. Who’d ever want to spend time with you?” He smirked cruelly, lifting his chin and looking down at Damion. He maintained this expression, but it shattered when Damion mentioned the horrendous ‘L’ word that the redhead had used before.
“No, Darkraidammit! I have no l-lover!” He snarled defensively, taking a step away from Blondie. He felt the blush that had become so familiar recently return to his face. No, no, no, he wasn’t feeling flustered. He hadn’t stuttered at the word ‘lover’. Fuck, he was stuttering like a little bitch! Paul kept reminding himself he was completely in control. Blondie had no hold over him! They weren’t lovers! The redhead was just very astute completely stupid. At least Damion didn’t realize that the redhead boy was talking about him when he said ‘lover’.
However, the surly teen couldn’t help but notice that Damion didn’t look very happy upon realizing Paul had a lover. He didn’t really have words to describe how this made him feel, especially since he swiftly crushed the unusual emotion back down.
The purple-haired boy glared to the side, crossing his arms and pointedly ignoring Damion and blocking out any words he might have spoken. However, when he heard the accursed ‘l’ word again, and saw Damion pointing to the shivering Turtwig-trainer, he couldn’t ignore that.
“Didn’t I tell you? I said I don’t have a lover! And if I did, it sure wouldn’t be that idiot,” he told in disinterest and disgust. In fact, Paul did have an idea what he would want his lover to be like… he realized his eyes were drifting back towards Damion and he hastily stopped this, shutting his eyes with an angry expression.
He heard Blondie call out an unfamiliar name, and it made Paul open his eyes again. So the girly male who had leaped oh-so-heroically to save his stupid Turtwig was named Lucas, it seemed. And…Damion knew him? No, no, he was not envious that this strange red-scarfed boy had known Damion for longer.
Paul turned his head to the side again, glaring at a fairly distant building. What the hell was going on with him today?

[Dragon]

Viridian City.

It was one of those quaint little places that he could return to every now and again without any real concern for the well being of current affairs. With motions already set into action for the upcoming cruise to Faraway Island, it seemed only natural to make an unexpected (and usually to the City's civilians, surprising) appearance. Retaining the revered title of Gym Leader demanded as such and, while the man frankly couldn't care less about the score of insignificant trainers and their equally pathetic pokémon eager to take on the world with eyes wide closed, it was certainly a break from the dull and disappointing results of daily routine. That and the looks upon their faces when all their 'hard work' was crushed and left to bleed out upon the dirty floor -- it was truly priceless to put a trainer in his/her place.

The backwater feel that Viridian always seemed to exude upon arrival was already taking its effect, air stiffly breathed in with a manner of haughty indignation. No matter -- the car was slowly pulling to a stop just outside the designated point and he would not have to suffer this poisonous nuisance he labeled as 'hope' upon his lungs for much longer. While from the outside Viridian Gym looked like nothing but a large, abandoned warehouse, the interior housed a training facility and battle ground superior to many other Gyms of its kind. One of many benefits at his disposal where deep pockets are concerned.

Opening the vehicle door, the faint smells of brandy and luxurious leather played across the wind followed by the figure of a tall, extremely well-dressed man. Dark hair carefully groomed and combed back, his wide shoulders and chest were expertly dressed in a well-fit, signature orange blazer which covered the matching suit and tie combination beneath. Dark shoes glistened in the sunlight as they carried the man proudly across the short expanse between his car and the Viridian City Gym. Although in his mid-40s, Giovanni was a man of natural intimidation and did not care to be trifled with concerning frivolities.

Therefore, as his eyes played across the gaggle of awkward teenagers lounging about his Gym as if they had the right to be there, his brow raised in curious jest. A cold smile played across his lips, even as a second figure acted to smoothly close the distance between the car and his hip.

It was a large, sleek looking feline, fur a creamy white and glowing with a healthy shine. Tail curled in a regal shape behind its slender body, dark tipped ears twitched and caused light to reflect off the ruby stone set in the center of the great cat's head. The Persian seemed hardly amused by this welcoming committee, giving the boys a disinterested scowl before a yowl of annoyance played from her throat. Rewarding the beast with a gentle rub behind the ears, Giovanni could mirror those sentiments exactly.

"I suggest your folly be taken elsewhere. This is not a Gym that tolerates weakness." Eyes traveled from the thin, paling blond to a gruff, purple-haired companion to a trainer huddling pathetically upon the ground, smile growing wider with every turn. Settling upon the red-haired child, however, Giovanni's motions concerning Persian came to a momentary halt. Eyes narrowed in personal query -- the boy looked familiar, and not in the manner of recognizing someone from a party or old acquaintance. Perhaps it was the jawline or the eyes, but something...

No matter. Turning back towards the Gym, Giovanni tenderly pulled a key from his trouser pocket and made to unlock the doors. While only here on a temporary stay, word of mouth could potentially manage to bring forth a trainer worthy of his entertainment.

[Banette]

The boy gazed upon the frozen boy with slight disinterest in his eyes. His first impression was right, it seemed. Such an idiot he was! Regardless if that stupid Turtwig was a hatchling at battling, it would have survived a dose of Icy Wind and recovered with no longterm effects.

After the show it's idiot trainer had givin though, he expected the boy to get hypothermi-- wait, what's this? The blonde had issued an attack on Sneasel.

Well, it seemed to be happening rather slowly- countering it wouldn't be too hard. Sneasel, who looked to his trainer for his next command as to what to do after beating the Mareep instead of celebrating, followed the finger pointed towards the Slowpoke.

"Freeze it."

The Sneasel, spinning to notice the Water Gun now gushing towards it, took in an even shorter breath than when he was attacking and gave a sharp breath out upon the water. The deed done, Sneasel lept to his trainer's side after feeling he had slowed down the attack enough to avoid it entirely. The Ice type's trainer gave him a simple nod, which he returned with a nod of his own, a smile on his face as if the Pokemon had just been praised for making quick work of their opponents.

At the cussing out his loser of an oppenent dished at him for calling the blonde his lover, the boy smirked. He found himself rather amused as the soap opera contradicting what the violent fellow with the Mareep unfolded itself in front of him. Once again, his opinion of the man dropped. Older then he, yet such a fool. He dearly hoped he didn't grow up to be a testosterone-drivin idiot like that.

However, before anything could be said, he noticed yet another new person enter the scene. Well, it was hard NOT to notice- the man was chauffered up to the front gym and stepped out wearing a rather blinding shade of orange.

There was... Something about him. Description, he'd heard it. A man who looked like this, who carried himself with a prideful, yet cold air of athority... Not to mention how Sneasel seemed noticably more distracted by him...

... Ah. It was HIM. He had no doubts- this was definately the Rocket boss the grunts so long ago sung such high praise about. Subcontiously, the redhead's silver-grey eyes, from which he took his namestake, narrowed as he gazed upon the man briefly.

"...."

Seeming to pick up on his trainer's hostility, Sneasel let out a low hiss in respose to the Persian, crossing his clawed hands over his chest in front of his trainer in a defensive manner. All it took was three short words- he'd slit the throats of them both.

The command never came. Instead, Silver turned to the violent violet haired one with a smirk. "Denial is the first step, I suppose. I thank you for the pathetic excuse for a battle, by the way." He stated casually, a sarcastic note ending the second sentence.

Sneasel didn't move at this, rather remained in his defensive position, glaring at the Persian as if attempting to stare it down. It was a fearless notion, though probably not one of the smarter ones he'd made. Then again, Sneasel was merely the boy's favorite toy- he knew not what to do with himself most of the time while not under command.

[Lucas]

Everything was commencing so quickly around him and Lucas could not move an inch. His fully-functional mind was trapped within his frozen form; he willed his arms to move, his brain could send the signals, but the most frustrating thing that could happen was keeping him from doing a single thing. It would have been better if his mind had been frozen--at least then, he wouldn’t have to deal with this horrible feeling of helplessness. Well, he decided, at least Turtwig was okay… but the mareep in front of him was not. He witnessed at an unbearably close range as the small pokemon--obviously a very young one--was torn into by Sneasel’s outburst of sharpened ice.

The chattering of his teeth slowed as freezing crystals hardened on his face. Though the sun above warmed the rest of the town, it only bounced off the fresh layer of ice in hard glints. His arms were equally kept from the sky’s orange strokes, as well as his legs and back--the only part of him that remained untouched was where Turtwig was hidden from range.

”Tuuuurt…” the small pokemon grunted; the sound of her voice wondered about the expression that played on her trainer’s face, stopped in time by the sneasel’s attack. She remained huddled against Lucas with his body curled around her.

Out of the corner of his eye, (thankfully, his pupils were still granted movement) Lucas could see the one face he recognized, startled yet oblivious all the same. Though the commotion that had brought Lucas there had pummeled his ear drums with a deaf beat, he had heard something about being accused of someone’s…’lover’. Such vernacular Lucas was not accustomed to; whoever had a situation necessary within a professor’s laboratory? Lucas hardly engaged in casual conversation, really. Rowan wasn’t the type to encourage that sort of thing. The only experience Lucas had of crazy talk like that was when he had dawdled from his job to spend a bit of time with Dawn and Damion (who just happened to exude all sorts of awkward). He supposed, really, that he shouldn’t have been surprised. But give a guy a little time to adjust!

Damion also happened to recognize him within the same moment. Lucas’ features struggled to exhibit the pain he felt at this: okay, it’s nice that we bumped into each other and all, but I could use a little help right now? He watched as the boy’s apparent pokemon--Slowpoke--seemed to go hand-in-hand with Damion. Aside from the obvious difference in speed. It was what Damion was always avoided for, if anything. Lucas felt a certain sense of gratitude towards Damion’s attempts to ‘save’ him, but it was all quite watered down by the impending failure radiating from them both.

The impression the purple-haired kid was making made it even more infuriating that Lucas had caught himself in Sneasel’s attack. No matter how hard he focused, the cast of ice that had formed around him would not budge. He felt it like cold blood infiltrating his systems, devastating his veins. It wouldn’t stop. He was no longer in warm, cozy Viridian, but in some winter tundra. Lucas decided he heinously disliked the cold, as well as the purple-haired boy. He didn’t know what had caused it--he was quite focused on himself and his pokemon at the moment--but the boy had suddenly blown up at his opponent. Lucas would have jumped and his hair would have undoubtedly stood up if he wasn’t frozen to the spot. Not only that, but he was treating his pokemon like it wasn’t…well, a pokemon. A creature to be loved and cared for, not scolded and abused. Not to mention the slithering remark targeted towards him--pathetic? Lucas would show him pathetic once he got himself out of this icicle. (Okay, it was sort of embarrassing that he had to jump in like that and take the attack for his pokemon, but he was not going to let the turtwig that Professor Rowan had given him get hurt.)

When Purple-Hair Kid attacked Damion, Lucas felt a grudging urge to stand in front of Damion and defend him. Unfortunately…his predicament kept him from doing anything.

Then, behind him, Lucas heard movement--the tires of a car crackling the earth, the click of a door, the light descents of footsteps. He couldn’t see a thing. He could only remain in this ridiculous position, huddled on the ground with poor Turtwig caught between his chest and his legs.

He heard the sound of a pokemon, something either canine or feline--Lucas wasn’t an expert in identifying pokemon, at least not by sound. Work at the lab had taught him a lot of things, but he didn’t get to exactly handle pokemon all that often. It was more a keyboard beneath his fingertips, or a pen and paper.

When the newly-arrived spoke, it was a voice that made Lucas want to hang his head, bury his chin in his red scarf and dip his red beret over his eyes. Yet again--something he couldn’t do. By now, the ice began to melt, but it led to the uncomfortable sensations of water trickling in places it shouldn’t. Finally, the man stepped into view: from Lucas’s position, he appeared to tower above his footsteps. The orange attire was something he was not expecting, but it appeared almost regal, despite what might normally be construed from such outlandish choice of wardrobe.

The silence that had fluttered into existence after the man’s arrival--Viridian’s Gym Leader? After however long he had been away? Ever since Lucas had moved into the area, at least--was shattered as the boy with the red hair spoke. He almost felt surprised that the boy would continue what was going on after the arrival of such a…presence. Was it intimidating? Lucas wasn’t sure. He was biased, having been humiliated and all with no way to do anything about it.

Which brought him back to his problem, as everything did. Lucas tried to catch Damion’s attention with his eyes, although his pokemon had been targeted by the sneasel as well, so Lucas might have to wait a bit before someone thought to help him defrost. Ugh. Defrost. It seemed ridiculous that he would even have to apply that term to himself. Ever.

[nickbo]

"... Well, yeah... But I'll make you want to spend time with me Paul, I swear I will!"

There was obvious over confidence in the words; clearly Damion had full trust in his ability to fulfill his goal and a grin spread across his face, followed by an over enthusiastic nod. However, it appeared that the blonde acknowledged his own difficulty in socializing at the beginning yet the fact that he did so only further fueled his determination. Damion in a sense had been intending to 'promise' that he would but... Promises were girly weren't they? Swearing was far manly so he had to impress Paul! Besides, the cruel look the other boy had snapped when the blonde himself 'lover' was mentioned so he wouldn't have to worry right?

Damion, however, felt a wave of relief was over him when it was confirmed that Paul, indeed, did have not lover. He didn't know why it did so anyway; he should have been panicked due to the worrying advances of the pink Pokemon that kept on trying to climb onto his leg. He was pushing it away successfully for the moment so his attention turned to the other matter. It was also rather relaxing that Lucas himself wasn't Paul's lover though but... Did the purple-haired boy mock his friend? Damion frowned at that and despite the fact it appeared insults to his own ability could roll off such to his friends would not. The almost worship of Paul seemed to make the blonde refrain from actually speaking up against him. Still the trainer was readable like a book; disapproval and slight disappointment was sprawled across his expression and his orange eyes centered up, glaring slightly. It didn't really seem to matter anyway because Paul was looking away for some reason; the blonde ignored his urge to try and catch the older one's attention and returned his gaze to Lucas.

The other was frozen and this could only cause Damion to glance towards the ice attack . The Sneasel attack! Damion was still moderately proud of Sonic's own but it still was easily avoided; the ice froze the spiral of water easily and it shattered. There was an attack on his Pokemon too; the blonde only yelped, realizing that the Slowpoke was indeed the target, on him and not moving. He managed to yank the pink abomination up, lifting it as he attempted to stand and although his lungs still screeched in protest he supposed he managed to get away from the worst of the attack. However, Damion still feel the chill of the attack and had to try and resist shivering; shivering violently would probably cause him to lose grip on the rather heavy Pokemon that was already slipping out of his hold as he stumbled back.

"St-stop it! Lucas is injured!" Damion yelled out, not particularly eager to battle at that point. He found that rather odd though; why on Kanto would Lucas take priority over battling? He had to battle to become strong and... Well, surely the beret boy's presence was not supposed to stop him? Sonic only attacked in the first place to protect Lucas, or at least attempt to, and it seemed pointless now! Damion should have been trying to help his friend!

Of course, every time Damion remembered that he should help his friend his short attention span would drag his momentary heroic intentions away and he'd end up hopelessly distracted. Cars... Well, to put it simply, the blonde didn't like 'em. Th-they were just excuses for people not to run! People used them and... Those people were absolutely disgusting! Obviously Damion ran everywhere and that solved all of the world's problems! T-the world just didn't know it yet. B-but when the man stepped out... Damion couldn't help but think...

The man had the cooliest suit ever. Yes, the cooliest.

A slight gasp of awe escaped the blonde originally as he watched the man. H-he was so awesome! Amazing! He was even smiling! He had to be nice despite the fact the smile was really kinda creepy. He had an orange suit though! He had to be awesome! Out of the car, however, exited another pokemon and... The sight of it panicked Damion momentarily.

A Persian? Of course, Damion would definitely recognize this one; Dahlia had one after all. Dahlia's one was not nice however and he could recall many incidents of... Scratching. My, he even had some scars. Pfft, how was he supposed to know at nine you weren't supposed to yank on cats' tails!? The orange awesomeness of the man's suit was overpowering his fear of the feline though but the adolescent still couldn't help be slightly disturbed as the man petted it; who could pet pure evil? That only further progressed Damion's awe though. THE ORANGE-SUITED MAN MUST HAVE HAD NO FEAR! As the man spoke, however, the blonde couldn't help but be slightly... Disappointed. He blinked in confusion at first then frowned. Another one doubting his strength!?

"W-what!?"

[/color] he exclaimed indignantly, his amazed expression leaving despite the fact he was still stunned that some so awesome could say something so inaccurate, "T-this ain't folly! What the hell is folly anyway?"[/color]

His tone of voice wasn't particularly raged and in fact when it came to the last statement he had appeared curious. Was it something cool? Oh, why had he denied then? Damion wasn't quite sure though as the man had added 'weakness' after it so... It couldn't be good in the context right?

"I'm not weak! And you should tolerate my awesome anyway!"[/color]

That was the point where his Slowpoke decided to roll out of his arms. He couldn't keep on holding it forever after all and he lose grip; it practically rolled down his body once he let go. Damion had been going to yelp and complain about it of course, but as his eyes went to the ground he saw and remembered Lucas. The rush of protagonistic intentions came back and the blonde made a slight surprised yelp when he remembered. The other boy was freezing! S-so that meant Damion was the only one who could save him... Well, he thought so anyway. He abandoned the Slowpoke that had begun taking to rubbing against his shoes as he burst over to Lucas but... Was entirely unsure of what to do.

"So-sorry!"

He didn't know why he apologized or stuttered by the trainer attempted to put that out of his mind as he tried to think of things that would actually help. How did one warm someone up if they were freezing!? Damion didn't know; he didn't have any fire pokemon of course and... Well...

Then it struck him. The blonde remembered a television show he had seen years ago in his youth that involved penguin Pokemon, mainly Empoleons. The rare few of them that were left in the wild... They used their body heat and rubbed up against each other for warm right? Clearly the blonde found nothing wrong with this and it seemed like the only option to him. So as soon as he knelt to the ground beside the beret'd boy he did the one thing that make sense in his mind.

"Oh, I know!"[/color]

He threw himself at the other in a form of a hug rather rashly; what, it seemed like only way to save Lucas! A-and... Sonic joined in several seconds later.

"Slooowww..."[/color]
[/blockquote]

ooc/ 'Kay I dunno I wanted to get it up before I left. >n>
I'll edit out major typos later~

[Wrath]

As Paul stood there, his arms crossed, glaring to the side and diligently avoiding looking at anyone, especially Blondie, he could only think one thing. He was thinking, very simply, that he never should have come near the Viridian Gym. In fact, he wished he had just stayed in Sinnoh and started his journey there, never having come to Kanto in the first place. That way maybe he wouldn’t be surrounded by such annoying, insane, and infuriating people.
This train of thought was brought to an abrupt end, however, when a car stopped nearby. The purr of the engine and the gentle screech of the brakes soothed his ears. It was a familiar sound. Even though it reminded him of the city he had grown up in and hated, the sound was something normal to him. Paul instinctively turned to gaze at it, mildly curious. But as he continued to watch, and a middle-aged man in a vivid orange suit stepped out of the car, mild curiosity transmuted into a strange, inexplicable fascination.
This man, whoever he was, radiated importance. Paul sensed power and skill, and the teen found himself drawn to him, and instinctively began respecting him. There was no way in hell Paul could be considered a kiss-ass, but in the rare occasions when he felt respect toward someone, he showed it. And he had never felt quite so much respect for anyone before. The teen gave a slight bow to the man in the stylish suit and the large Persian when he spoke up towards him and the other idiots all around.
“I apologize, sir,” He stated quietly with no hint of his usual mocking tone, before lifting his gaze and boldly staring directly at the man. He didn’t appreciate being called weak, of course, but he understood where the man was coming from. After all, Paul thought as he gazed from side to side, there were a couple of obvious weaklings here.
However, the way the man spoke ‘this gym’, made Paul realize this must have been the leader of the long-abandoned Viridian Gym. The way he spoke of the gym might have meant he was simply someone training under the leader. But when the purple-haired boy looked at him, the way he moved with graceful authority, and noted the intense gaze he had, Paul simply knew this man would never deign to train under anyone. Well there was that, but also Paul guessed that no one but the gym leader would have the keys to unlock a pokemon gym, and this man was unlocking the door as Paul watched.
Unable to fully master the urge to approach the man, Paul took a step closer, almost as if something was pulling the boy toward him.

However, Paul turned to face the redhead as he heard the kid addressing him, giving a humourless smirk. Paul had noticed that the man in the orange suit had gazed longer at Silver than at any other, and wondered why. The boy looked like nothing to Paul, nevermind worthy of a few seconds extra attention from the Man.
The teen shut his eyes in disinterest, at the redhead’s speech, and didn’t let the words or the condescending tone affect him. He honestly didn’t care what some dumbass, barely-pubescent boy thought of him. Maybe Paul wasn’t at his best at the moment, but he would get stronger. So any slights against him now only spurred him to get stronger faster, so he could prove all these fools wrong that much sooner. In the long run, the words meant nothing. Keeping this in mind, Paul didn’t let his irritation show, relaxing his crossed arms and shoving them into his pockets.
“Hmph. Don’t be proud of yourself for defeating Reeper. The thing’s pathetic,” he growled, giving a mocking chuckle. Paul had mentally distanced himself from the sheep, so any time he insulted Reeper, he didn’t feel as if he were insulting himself. However, motion to Paul’s side yanked his gaze away from the redhead.
Despite having worked hard for the last little while to avoid looking directly at Damion, Paul’s eyes were attracted by the bright flash of orange, white and blond as it dropped closer to the earth. He watched with curiosity as Damion dropped down next to ‘Lucas’, enveloping him in a hug. Paul immediately felt a stab of uncontrollable jealousy.
A small, self-pitying part of the teen that lived in the back of his head wondered why Damion didn’t hug him like that, and Paul momentarily wished he were the half-frozen boy shivering in Damion’s arms. Paul’s regular mind, however, scoffed at the self-pity. Blondie didn’t hug him like that because Paul was a bastard to him and also because he wouldn’t like to be hugged, as touching left him uncomfortable, and slightly violent. So, with this undeniable logic, why did the surly adolescent still envy Lucas? Paul realized he had been staring longingly at Damion and Lucas for a number of seconds so he hastily shut his eyes again, turning to the side and recrossing his arms.
Paul suddenly remembered the Man again, and he reopened his eyes and took a few more steps closer to him.
“Are you the Viridian Gym Leader?” He called out at first. This was really more a rhetorical question, so he didn’t wait for a reply. “I noticed the gym looks abandoned, so I have to doubt there’s anyone training here. Maybe…I could train under you?” He asked, lifting his chin and looking utterly shameless despite his bold request. Beating around the bush was pointless, and the Man didn’t look like he had time to waste, anyway. This might have been his only chance to ask.

[Dragon]

As the large, reinforced door to Viridian Gym was unlocked with a smooth -click-, a more intriguing set of sounds was currently playing about Giovanni's ears. The man's grin seemed to widen not because of amusement, but at the expense of his own assessment now concerning the...children outside his facility. While two of the four had simply proven his original statement to the point of being infallible, the other pair (though from the way one behaved not to each other) demonstrated some promise of will. Perhaps another test and observation might be in order. Provocation of emotions would be sufficient in this case -- little boys and their hormones.

Turning around slowly to face the trainers once again, the man's arms were proudly crossed over his chest in order to properly command the conversation. Dark eyes narrowed in thought from one face to another before settling on the bold, purple-haired voice which challenged an immediate response to such a simple question. "Correct. You may address me as Giovanni, Leader of the Viridian City Gym. While slightly unorthodox, my several duties make it a necessity to travel and temporarily close the facility." Taking a moment to gauge reactions, he smirked under a guise of complacence and continued. "Though it rarely seems to inconvenience the most worthy of challengers. Patience is a virtue, after all." Each word was spoken with care, information translated to simple fact and offered as a gracious reminder to erring, reckless babes.

Speaking of such...gaze trailed with an unimpressed expression over the forms of the most unworthy figures to hear this speech, entwined in body and proving to be quite ridiculous at a glance. The blond he held little care or respect for -- a starstruck simpleton who barely knew how to stand let alone walk in this world. As for the one below him, there was little to assess and Giovanni was not one to waste his time on such trifles.

While her Master was momentarily engrossed in that pathetic display of human emotion, Persian gave a large, toothy yawn and set her own attentions on the sleek, black figure positioned defensively in front of its trainer several feet away. A once-over glance was given before the great cat gave what could be construed as a shrug, licking one large paw with little concern for the creature. It posed no threat in her mind and was therefore no longer quite as interesting as the dirt between her claws.

At the mention of training, Giovanni gave the purple-haired figure a stern sort of glare, brows flattening in a manner that suggested outright irritation. "You would be wise to hold that tongue, boy. While closed to challenges, my Gym is quite the center of activity. Your assumptions are preemptive and do nothing but to make you look even more foolish behind such a defined attitude of confidence." Content with this explanation, a smile returned to Giovanni's face as he carefully watched for any change in personality. Turning his head towards the last of this experiment -- the one whom he could not truly recognize -- he continued the pleasant goad. "Unless you believe yourself capable of proving such a statement false. Under my solemn oath, I cannot refuse a match."

Eyes were once again locked on the red-haired boy. The words were spoken to Paul, but for those of higher intuition, it was clear the curiosity and the challenge was meant for more than just one individual.

[Banette]

Well, that proved it.

Fighting back the urge to glare, the young teen gave a slightly irritated sigh. No, being hotheaded now would merely result in showing further idiocy, like the testosterone-driven purple haired one. It was of utmost importance that he remain focused. As the boss of Team Rocket (who had been ogling him slightly longer then the others; perhaps he suspected that he knew his identity?) he didn't know what exactly he was to be up against, therefore, this was to be handled with utmost caution.

Ah, he regretted not bringing Feraligatr now. Well, no matter. He trusted Sneasel a fair amount- the critter would go down fighting if it meant his well being was on the line. Glancing at Sneasel, who was appearing rather irritated now that the Persian was ignoring him, the boy hid the faintest of smiles towards his old friend before allowing it to drop off his face entirely. Folding his arms, he turned to the Veridian Gym Leader, ready to acknowledge his challenge directed towards he and Paul.

"Perhaps" he began, looking directly into the face of the man, no fear in his eyes "Perhaps I could take you up on that, but one on the six I'm most likely correct to assume you have would hardly be fair, hm? Therefore, I propose a challenge, not for your badge, but merely to test my power against yours."

He paused a moment, snapping his fingers towards Sneasel, who jumped immediately to attention. Knowing his trainer wouldn't try to attract his notice for any other reason, the Sneasel flexed it's claws, mentally preparing itself for another scrap.

"I shall return for a proper battle for your badge at a later date. After all, the Veridian Gym is supposedly the last for a reason, is it not?..." He paused once more for a moment, noticably rambling casually a bit now.

"I'm aware you cannot turn down a challenge due to your oath, but may we agree to avoid any underhanded techniques? Cheap tricks are only worthy of dirty Rocket Members, which I'm sure you yourself are above, am I right?" He gave a small smirk as he spoke the last few words, his mind cleared of the annoyance clouding it. Feeling ready for battle, he waited for a response, curious to see if he'd get any form of reaction.

[Lucas]

Persian sauntered into view after the man, and Lucas noted how it seemed to regard the red-haired boy and his pokemon. Persian was such a regal creature; Lucas half expected Turtwig to shudder in its presence. Turtwig did not, however, and that much wasn’t surprising considering the oblivious behavior she had exhibited so far.

Despite the man’s imposing arrival, Damion seemed to have no problem acting like his wild, awful self. Lucas was sure he felt enough embarrassment for the both of them, especially when Damion began to talk. It was all he needed to do, apparently, to make a complete fool of himself. Oh, what Lucas would have done to not be frozen. At least then he could run away. He also wouldn’t be shivering cold with melted ice inching down his pants. The more and more Damion spoke, the more Lucas wished he could move and throw his hand over the boy’s persistent mouth. Just like old times… [/color]Lucas thought mournfully.

It was then that Damion had turned his attention on Lucas, and in the panic that ensues when someone like that focuses on you, Lucas’s eyes jumped to the slowpoke that had fallen to Damion’s feet before launching back up to the boy’s orange gaze. He became rigid (moreso than he already was within his cast of ice) and wide-eyed with the thought that something was going on within Damion’s head. Lucas decided that he no longer wanted, or most probably needed, Damion’s help with his… predicament. In fact, Lucas was pretty certain that he’d do much better without Damion’s ‘assistance.’

This was confirmed once he realized that Damion was throwing himself at him. One moment, Damion’s knees were hitting the dirt beside him; the next thing he knew was Damion’s arms around his shoulders.

Now Lucas was really beginning to recall his ‘friendship’ with Damion. It consisted not only of a constant string of awkward moments, but of little to no personal space--ever. If Damion was within proximity, he’d be in your bubble, and not only that, but popping it as well. So why had he felt so elated when he had initially realized Damion was right in front of him for the first time in years?

As quickly as these memories flocked to the front of his mind, a flustered blush climbed up Lucas’s face. A similar heat seized the rest of his body and made Lucas contemplate why he had ever thought to stray from work. Just as he was beginning to feel quite hot and bothered, more ice fell down the back of his pants. The chattering of his teeth stalled and he inhaled a stutter--it was unpleasant. Very unpleasant, to say the least.

”D-D-D-Dam-m-mion-n-n…” he managed to force through his wall of shaking teeth. The embrace was most definitely not helping him, however much the disappearing ice around his shoulders might protest otherwise. While the others’ business went on around them, Lucas was frozen in time, but he still registered the main gist of things. Lucas didn’t blame the Viridian City Gym Leader--for that was who he was--for treating the purple-haired boy to such snide remarks. There was something genuinely intimidating about this man, however, and never mind that Lucas was paralyzed within an ice capsule. He wasn’t exactly certain on what to think--this guy was the Viridian Gym Leader, but something about him made Lucas’s skin crawl. Perhaps Lucas just wasn’t meant to be a trainer… The red-haired kid seemed unfazed by the man. Was this cause for speculation on the red-head, or on Lucas‘s ability to be a trainer? Perhaps he should have done more research before accepting this mission.

Tiny bugs of water began to slide into his skin, and his steadily soaking clothes rung out goosebumps along his bare arms. Although the front of his dark shirt was pressed against him, Turtwig had disappeared, leaving the space between his bent-up legs and his chest vacant for a chill to stroke his form. He supposed the pokemon had sprung herself out before Damion had flung himself on him.

Too occupied with shivering away the remains of Sneasel’s attack (as well as Damion), Lucas didn’t catch his pokemon’s new distraction. Turtwig was much too curious for petty qualms with ice--nope, that only held her trainer back. She would much rather occupy herself with the doings of interesting people. Such as the Persian who had just appeared. Stubby green legs tottered her small body forward, the size of which paled in comparison to her rather large head. She smiled vacantly, staring up at the Persian with small black eyes and an ignorance to any threatening nature.

[nickbo]

So apparently this gym leader guy was some big deal.

It could be considered slightly bizarre; although the boy managed to hold all respect to the most selective people and he refused to acknowledge the fact that the older man needed it. Of course he certainly wasn't oblivious to Paul's respect for the man though.

So maybe he was observing whilst hugging. What, it took far too long to warm Lucas up. He couldn't help but watch the others and... Well, he didn't like it for some reason. Paul was supposed to awesome! Why did he use the word... 'Sir'? The purple-haired boy was supposed to be too awesome and BA to pay respect to that guy, despite the amazing orange suit! In fact, it... Hurt that that the other was ignoring him? For a few seconds Damion was confused by that feeling; it wasn't like he was unused to feelings of hurt, since after all the purple-haired boy usually drowned him in verbal abuse (but he never really listened to that 'cause he knew the boy didn't mean it) and... Well, living with a father who forgot the concept of home (so he wasn't really living with him anyway...) tended to build a slight immunity the feeling of being ignored. As mentioned before that didn't make him oblivious to actually feeling hurt though but Damion soon became pretty sure of what it was. He just didn't want to get ignored by Paul since... Well, the other was awesome. That seemed like a pretty logical conclusion. The blonde understood it and accepted that yet along with that came the desire to dislike the orange-suited man greatly. That was kind of odd. Who was he to judge his own his own feelings and Damion was intending to act on them and demand at least some attention.

One might thank Arceus then that Lucas distracted him. When he heard his name the boy's short attention span switched from the other people to his rival as if only just remembered the other boy was there despite the fact he had been hugging him.

"What is it Lucas?"

[/b]

Yes, it was very obvious that the blonde did not understand the other's predicament. He blinked in confusion and frowned slightly; the other was okay, right? The ice was melting so the other couldn't be complaining. He thought the boy must have been more cold however if was still shivering so the only thing that sense in Damion's head was to hug tighter. C'mon, you have to hand it to the boy was at least having something up there. He was still somewhat confused though since... Well, the boy seemed to be uncomfortable or something? Did the other boy not like his idea? Damion himself was pretty sure the ingenuity was practically revolutionary.

"Is it not working?" he said, his voice filled with a slightly frantic whine. He wanted it to work! He didn't really know any other way to help and the other two boys didn't look like they wanted to participate (Paul didn't have to involve his awesome anyway) and... Well, he wasn't going to ask for help from the gym leader (the orange-suited man would definitely not give it anyway). He only found himself pressing and clinging against the other hoping it would help, "I-I don't know Lucas, I'm not 'Smart' like you so I don't know what to do..."[/b]

Oddly enough he managed to acknowledge his lack of intelligence when it came to logical matters anyway despite the slight hesitant whine he had in his voice whilst admitting it. His rival's situation was beginning to distress him so... So Damion attempted to do what he did in any situation. That would be distract himself. So he attempted to bring his attention back to the others anyway despite the fact he didn't really get the situation anyway. Both of the boys appeared to be, in a lack of a better word, sucking up to the Gym Leader. Despite the fact the red-head was kind of being different about it and mentioned 'Rocket Members' (what was that? It sounded like some sort of band...) Paul was, as mentioned earlier, admiring the man. That brought around the annoying hurt thing again.

"But Paul!"[/color] the blonde begun to protest, lifting himself slightly from Lucas at that point in order to get a clearer view of the proceedings. Of course, his rival didn't have to worry about the lack of body contact; Sonic had usefully begun pressing herself up against Lucas' side! An awesome pokemon or what; it seemed to enjoy helping the other too! Damion shouldn't have been concentrating on that though when he clearly he needed to focus on the purple-haired boy, "Why do you want to train under him? You're awesome, right?[/color]
[/blockquote]

[Wrath]

Paul hung on every word that came out of the Man’s mouth. But no, his name was not, Man, of course, it was Giovanni. Giovanni, the Leader of Viridian Gym! Paul forced himself to repeat the name multiple times, knowing that he wasn’t the best with names, but this was one he would have to remember for the rest of his life. GiovanniGiovanniGiovanni.
He hardly realized he was acting like Damion did towards him, because, after all, he was busy getting caught up in Giovanni’s glow of authority and power. The way he spoke…How the fancy words flowed so easily and smoothly from his lips in a way Paul could never hope to mimic.
Paul gazed around him for a moment with a dreamy look in his eyes, staring reproachfully at the redhead, Blondie, and Blondie’s friend respectfully. They didn’t seem as enthralled as he himself was. Didn’t they sense the Gym Leader’s powerful aura? Were they stupid? Paul realized the redundancy of the question the moment he thought it. Of course they were.
And that was why only he, Paul, could see Giovanni’s palpable awesome.
However, thinking of the word ‘awesome’ snapped Paul out of his Gio-caused-absorption for a moment, making the purple-haired teen think of Blondie.
Why was he thinking of the stupid fluffy-haired child now? He was busy absorbing Giovanni’s presence, after all! But the more Paul tried to push Damion out of his thoughts, the more ingrained in them the boy became. He looked back at the blond, appearing rather frustrated. However that irritation was wiped from his features when he saw how…hurt the blond looked. Had he done that? Had Paul’s words finally sunk in and left Damion looking like that? The purple-haired teen found himself deeply regretting ever having insulted Blondie, however, the guilt was short-lived, as in that moment he heard Giovanni speaking behind him. Paul shot back around to be met with a harsh glare that could have melted Regice. Once again, however, Paul hung on every syllable, marveling at his new idol’s eloquence, even if they were all insults toward him. His eyes were shut, his face appeared practically serene, but inside he was wincing. He had spoken too soon, said stupid things. Dammit, he had stooped to Blondie’s level.
“I apologize, Gi—Sir. You’re correct, of course. I shouldn’t have spoken so rashly,” he muttered, opening his eyes to look up at Giovanni. Sure, he couldn’t talk with the same degree of refinement as the Man, but he could never hope to. This apology, which, coming from Paul, was a very rare event in itself, was the closest to ‘eloquence’ Paul could really get.
But the surly teen straightened from his rather withdrawn position when he heard the challenge in Giovanni’s voice. But hell! He only had Reeper, who was completely and totally useless! If the redhead’s Sneasel could beat Reeper (Well, what couldn’t, really? He was a useless weakling.) then Paul had no doubt this amazing Gym Leader could.
He pulled his hands out of his pockets, cracking them idly as he pondered what to do or say. But as the redhead himself spoke up, Paul realized he had a bit more time to think.
Come to think of it, the way the kid spoke reminded him a lot of Giovanni! Except, of course, the boy was pretentious and sounded foolish speaking with such fancy words. But Giovanni rocked it perfectly, Paul thought longingly. It was hard to understand the conversation for Paul. It was all fancy speech and subliminal meanings behind the words. Therefore, it took a moment for Paul to realize that Silver had insulted Giovanni, subtly hinting he would use underhanded means. Paul sprang to defend his idol.
“The hell’re you saying, redhead?! You think this man even needs to use ‘underhanded’ means to kick your sorry ass? Don’t flatter yourself,” He snapped turning toward the younger boy and glaring at him from over his nose. Well, it wasn’t as pretty as Silver’s speech, but it got the job done.
His harsh glare moved off of the redhead, however, when Paul heard his name being called.
Damion was protesting about something, it seemed. Damion asked him, still looking hurt like he had earlier, why he wanted to train under the Man. Well, because the Man was awesome! Shit, he really was sounding just like Damion. B-but Paul was not as pathetic as the blond, no! After all, he hadn’t been chanting Giovanni’s name three times earlier. SHIT, yes he had been.
“Just shut up, Blondie!” Paul snapped, shutting his eyes in irritation.

[Dragon]

The sheer command of the red-headed child.
The sneering demand of his purple-haired rival.

Their reactions to each other, to him...were delicious. It saturated the air and with each breath came a greedy yearning for more than his lungs could handle. Every word and action was carefully being recorded as dark eyes narrowed with prospect upon the two, Giovanni lost within the confines of his own conniving muses.

Gaze settled upon the elder of this pair first, figure permanently etched in such a steadfast position of authority. While the boy did poorly to speak his mind in such a flippant manner (most trainers his age failed to consult their finer judgment before allowing their mouths to be the masters), Giovanni had been immediately taken with the way he had presented himself afterward. To use proper titles instead of his name, and to immediately apologize in the manner of a loyal pup put in its place -- this was the reaction of even his most abhorrently trained grunts. The boy was demonstrating a rigid and extremely forward display of subservience...and it was downright too appealing to ignore. Loyalty seemed to only blossom further in the form of vehement defense against his character (if only you knew, child), enough so that now he would be a fool to ignore the warning signals. The boy was enamored with power and those who held it -- he was malleable and ripe for the picking.

Eyes presently crossed to the younger trainer and focused hard upon that enigmatic face. It was fearless, bold while having the common sense not to be too brash. It spoke of confidence and an air of maturity not possessed by most of its age bracket. It reminded Giovanni of...himself. And then the words began to flow. This boy, while horrendously flawed in his presentation of false opinions, held the dominant verbal flair of a Rocket Elite. Such a talent was rare, valuable -- words hold more truth when spoken with a righteous tongue, even when they hold no truth at all. Giovanni knew this all too well. As if his words were not enough, the manner in which the boy commanded his pokémon was by far an impressive feat. Somehow, he knew, this child would become his.

"Your assumptions do little but to make yourself look less educated in my eyes. Within your own incessant ramblings of pride, does the logic concerning the duties of a Gym Battle escape you? Matches are decided by my own hand, as are the restrictions within every city in the Region. Do not try my intelligence by attempting to define regulations for me, boy." The harsh flavor on his tongue was enough to leave Giovanni standing with a cold grin across his lips, staring down triumphantly upon the favored trainer with all the personal relish he could muster. "And as for your assault against my character, think twice before making such an audacious statement. I will have you dragged away by the authorities in an instant for such insolence -- and to beg me for a challenge beforehand. Learn your place before I am forced to put you in it." And I will, pet. I will.

As Giovanni worked to inspire his aura farther over the trainers in question, Persian had finished that much necessary grooming and quietly moved on to observing those around her. While not one of the human figures seemed to pose any threat, tail twitched in curiosity at their companions. A single fang peeked out in taunt as slitted eyes fell upon the Sneasel, just urging the beast to try and make a challenge for her. That is, until a green, leafy lump made its way into her general space. The pokémon was ugly, naive and therefore, beneath her -- still, Persian gave the Turtwig a short sniff before arching back in general dislike. Batting a paw against the vegetation on its head, she stood and turned around, taking the time to create suitable distance between herself and that...that thing.

"Or perhaps I should say, as I am about to put you in it. Don't seek to waste my time any further...either of you. Follow me." Giving a neat turn, Giovanni soon held his back towards the two trainers and took a measured, elegant stride towards the Gym entrance. The smile upon his face was now dripping with anticipation, plans quickly being drawn and set into motion. Strength lies in more than just character -- he was about to find out just how much potential these two really possessed.

[Banette]

"I know."

It was a simple two-word answer, but as to what he was replying to was uncertain. It seemed to answer all the Rocket Boss's lecturing questions in one fell swoop anyway, plus implied a bit of a deeper meaning, if you decided to look into that. Alas, the redhead decided he didn't really want to bother to explain his answer any further, and left it at that.

The boy seemed unaffected by the gym leader's presence as he glanced towards the ever-infuriated purple one with too much testosterone in his brain. "Perhaps I don't have the right to flatter myself, though I'd prefer it to sucking up like a yes-man as you seem to be doing. Pathetic."

Though he wouldn't admit it, the gym leader's proposal to enter the Pokemon Gym made him quite uncomfortable. He supposed it would be reasonable with anyone else, but this man... well, he felt like he was a small child being told to get in a stranger's van at the promise of something in it for him.

Only switch the van for a gym and make the thing in it for him a challenge. He couldn't quite put his finger on what made him uncomfortable- perhaps it was merely the face value of the invitation.

"..."

Thinking a bit, he weighed the pros and cons. Even if it was the Rocket Boss, this might be a good opportunity to potentially gather some intelligence as to what was inside the gym nobody was ever seen entering or exiting.

The thirst for information outweighing his discomfort and his feeling of untimely events standing in the way, he used a hand to beckon for Sneasel to follow him in silence.

Sneasel glanced once more at the Persian before scooping his trainer's knapsack back onto his sleek furry back and following quietly as asked.

[Lucas]

The leader of the Viridian City Gym could certainly provide a mouthful. (LOLOLOLOLOLSRY/ENDCOMMENTARY) The way those other two boys reacted puzzled Lucas, but perhaps they were experienced where he was not. The purple-haired one seemed eager to jump on a challenge issued from the man, and while the red-haired kid wasn’t so outwardly enthusiastic, he was obviously just as compliant. The Gym Leader commanded those around him easily, and Lucas was somewhat grateful that he had not been targeted or even remotely acknowledged by such a presence. True, it was probably due to the fact that he was currently marinating in the aftereffects of Sneasel’s attack (something that really shouldn’t happen to a trainer who hadn’t even been battling) but at least the man hadn’t spared a single condescending glance to fuel what embarrassment Lucas had already entailed. Damion already supplied ample embarrassment in the form of a hug.

Being thawed out felt like the equivalent to having a bucket of water dumped over your head. It felt the most uncomfortable where Damion’s arms pressed against his clothes: water seeped from Lucas’s black shirt, trickling through the crevices left between fabric and his chest, sending shivers not only of cold through his limbs. He also began to itch where Damion held him around his shoulders, but at this point he was too uncomfortable to move. The ice that had crystallized his form neared its disappearance, but it left just as much water behind to soak him. His beret now drooped over his head and almost obscured his eyes, as it had slipped forward and now the back of his hair was exposed looking like the fur of a wet houndour.

“Eech--“[/b] In response to Lucas’s muttering his name, Damion had squeezed him tighter, and as a result, Lucas felt a bit more uncomfortable. He supposed it must have been working, though--with Damion pressed against him like that, the ice did seem to be melting fast. Oh, why had he gotten into this in the first place? Poor Turtwig…

Damion’s whining made Lucas wonder briefly where Dawn was. She and Damion had balanced each other out sort of well--now, with just Damion around, Lucas wasn’t sure he’d be able to tolerate the boy for long intervals. This was just scratching the surface; there was something in Damion’s voice that did make Lucas feel a happy hint of nostalgia. The blond’s concern gave Lucas a step of a guilt trip: the boy had helped him, after all, and he shouldn’t be so annoyed… Not to mention Damion had called him smart. Lucas tried to cease his shivering enough to reply. ”I-It’s w-working…” he told him, attempting to turn his head to give Damion a reassuring glance. He saw that Damion had averted his attention however, and Lucas followed suit.

”Wig.” Turtwig piped in her rumbling voice, lifting into Persian’s paw as she batted at the leaf that sprouted from the smaller pokemon’s head. Turtwig blinked after Persian, apparently oblivious to anything the creature’s quest for distance implied, as she continued to stand there and smile (as much as a turtwig could) happily.

Once Damion lifted from him, Lucas immediately fell backwards--apparently he had taken to depending on Damion to remain sitting upright, at least once the ice had ceased supporting him. ”Ow!” Lucas muttered, legs bent up in the air from having grown stiff. He grumbled wordlessly from that position, staring up at the sky and attempting not to acknowledge the slowpoke groping his side. Eventually, his legs melted and fell flat to the ground, and Lucas slowly sat up. He was now thoroughly soaked in freezing water, and his shivering remained adamant as he watched the others. It appeared the Viridian City Gym Leader was taking his leave, and the two unfamiliar boys were invited to follow him. Lucas glanced to Damion, wondering what exactly the boy would do, as he appeared to have grown some irrational attachment to the purple-haired one.

[nickbo]

'Just shut up, Blondie' did not seem valid in the blonde's head.

After all, that didn't answer Damion's question. He did realize the other was insulting him slightly, or at demeaning himself enough so he would be quiet but obviously when had trying to quieten him ever worked? He did retain silence for a moment though as his gaze returned to the orange-suited man and there was a slight glare. What was Paul thinking? That question kept on repeating in his head. The man... Was weird. He definitely wasn't the sort of authority that Damion was used t. After all, his father was certainly a figure of authority but was not perhaps someone who eluded the same desire of respect. It wasn't even a desire; it was a constant demand yet he did not want to respect it because of that. That didn't make sense but... But...

Thankfully Lucas saved him thinking any deep thought (really, the boy saved him the most painful situations!). A grin managed to crack his rather irritated expression as he glanced at Lucas' 'progress'. What, he was happy; to him it had been definitely successful! The hugging had definitely helped he was sure if it and he ignored his rival's difficulty in the beginning to grin wildly whilst nodding his head erratically.

"See Lucas, I can have good ideas too. Fast ideas,"

[/b] he grinned, a little arrogantly as he stressed 'fast' and he crossing his arms, nodding to himself, "You're pretty much unfrozen now!"

"Slooooooooowww..."

The groan from the pink pokemon seemed to imply it wasn't as happy with Lucas movement as it liked still prey. It noticed that rather quickly and seemed rather content on attempting to snuggle into the its trainer's rival's lap. It's tail gave a long and slow content wag and another groan mumbled from its throat, altogether making it a rather mentally scarring pokemon.

Damion wasn't paying attention to the disturbing interests of the Slowpoke though. His attention had immediately swiveled back the orange suited man and his proposition. Well, not much of a proposition, more just a command. His orange eyes darted erratically back to Paul at this. Wait, Paul was going to go? He didn't want Paul to go! He found himself stumbling towards the purple-haired boy slightly, partly with slight fear and perhaps because of that insecurity. He didn't want Paul to go!

"Wa-wait! Paul are you gonna follow?" he exclaimed, but his voice far less rushed and impatient like the way he preferred it to be. There was no slurring of words in his voice as he usually did out of the desire to be fast but rather confusion in his tone. He just didn't understand! That was emphasized by the whine in his voice. His voice became far more quite and dismayed as he yanked on his scarf out of slight nervousness and murmured, "B-but... You're awesome, I wanna go..."[/b][/blockquote]