Fallarbor Town | Dawn
{1}When Chris awakens, his eyes blink several times, as if trying to figure out if this is actually the waking world or just another one of his vivid dreams. His throat feels as if sandpaper has been dragged across it, and he's drenched in sweat. Oh...he had forgotten to take off his flannel when he'd gone to bed last night. That makes sense. Chris pulls the unbuttoned over-shirt off, leaving it lying on the bed as he gets up, stretching out his sore muscles. A sharp pain in his right knee continues to plague him, still holding on even after several days have already passed since it sprang into existence. Chris frowns, rubbing one hand against the hurting spot, but it doesn't really help.
Figures. He takes a few minutes to find a different outfit and his communicator, his exhausted brain slowly waking up again in the process; satisfied that he is ready to face another day, Chris leaves the house he has turned into his own refuge. If his memory served right, it'd once belonged to some sort of move deleter, but now it is the closest thing to 'home' that he has. Nimbasa City is far away, his mind's images of it already blurry, as if the place had belonged in a dream or in another person's memories a lifetime ago. No matter how hard Chris tries to grasp onto the images and wrench them away from the gray fuzz, the little details always slip from his grasp. Though it breaks his heart to admit it, the only thing that matters is Fallarbor, the here and now. Thoughts of his old home would only get in the way during the day, and he needs to focus.
Outside, Stannis is awaiting him, the Sawsbuck as alert and watchful as ever. There is nobody Chris can rely on more than his starter; without the Grass-type's guidance, the man doubts he would have ever made it this far. Most people would think that the human trainer would be the calm and collected one, the one always in charge, but that wasn't always the case with Chris. Most of the time, he was the one relying on his Pokemon rather than the other way around; sometimes this picked at him, made him think he was weak, but Chris would take a little insecurity over being dead any day.
”Good morning, Chris,” Stannis greets him, giving a small bow in his trainer's direction and bringing a smile to the man's face. Stepping closer to his Pokemon, Chris scratched him behind the ears, the Sawsbuck's coat velvety to the touch.
”'Morning, Stannis. You seen the others anywhere?” Chris expected more of his Pokemon to have gathered around upon seeing he was awake, but it seems most of them aren't around. The only ones in his sight are Stannis and Astora; it looks as if the female Manectric is the one on patrol duty, checking the southern fence, unsurprisingly. It isn't something to worry about-not like this is the first time, after all-but he likes to keep track of where they all are, just in case.
”I've already sent Cassandra out past the crops, and Atlas is out by the old fossil house,” Stannis responds, looking over to the west; it was usually the Vaporeon who was out near the water, as they'd long since insured the safety of that area, and Atlas made sure to never leave the boundaries of the fence if necessary. They always kept at least one pair of eyes to the east and the west, as to prevent anything from surprising them...though something like that has yet to happen. Sure, there is always the stray undead here and there, but they didn't seem particularly fond of Fallarbor's climate. Survivors are practically nonexistent out here, as well, which isn't shocking either.
”Din insisted on guarding the Contest Hall, and I didn't dare try to dissuade her.” Stannis gives a chuckle at that, and Chris imagines the tiny Larvesta perched on a stack of boxes, waiting for someone to break in so she can charge at them.
What a nerd. Chris runs a hand through his hair, observing the town around him. They've done a good job with the place, there's no doubt about that, but...really, how long could they keep it up? A year? Two? He's run through these same doubts a thousand times over, yet still they hang onto the edges of his mind, waiting for the perfect times to sink their teeth in. Standing here isn't going to magically erase his problems, and Chris knows it all too well. Better to distract himself with the everyday work of caring for Fallarbor rather than sink deeper into another negative thought cycle. The crops need to be checked on, the fence needs inspection, he has to check through their storage, the grain needs to be sorted, there's no shortage of tasks he can use to clear up his bogged down mind.
”Well, I'd better check on the crops,” Chris finally says, not wanting to waste anymore daylight. He would have to check on the outer fences as well, to make sure there wasn't any damage or breaks, and that was going to take quite some time.
”Check on the fence in town for me? I'm taking Astora along.” Stannis nods, and Chris whistles to catch the Manectric's attention. She's welcome company on the walk to the east, where the bulk of their crops grow, hardy plants made to last in the ash-ridden, volcanic land that is Fallarbor. Chris feels right at home in the cooler morning air; he'd chosen another flannel to wear, of course, this one being slightly thicker than the others with a blue-green checkered pattern. He'd probably have to take it off later, but for now, Chris revels in the comfort, tugging at the sleeves so that they don't cover his hands.
”How're you holdin' up, kid?” Astora asks, breaking the silence hanging over them. The Manectric is the oldest of his team, though one of the last to be caught; even as a wild Pokemon, there'd been a calmness to her, a maternal sort. Honestly, she and Stannis are the mom and dad of the group, keeping the rest of them in line. Astora is definitely the more fiery of the two, almost more like a whiskey-loving aunt, and between the two of them Chris cannot think of a problem that cannot be solved.
”I'm doing fine.” Chris knows that's a lie; he's the furthest thing from fine, and the both of them know it. He tries not to twitch too much under Astora's gaze; the Manectric looks like she's trying to see through his words, to find out how he really feels. Maybe she already knows. Hell, Chris wouldn't be surprised if all of his Pokemon knew exactly what he felt and thought, he was never a subtle person. Even little Din was rather good at guessing what he was about to say, not that the thought cheers him up. Chris is fully aware of how pointless it is to try and hide things about himself, especially from his most trusted partners, but he does it anyways. Why can't he be rational for once?
”I don't believe ya for a second.” Her response is blunt, but she isn't wrong, and their short talk is left at that. Chris looks forward, as if still completely intent on his job, but his mind is distracted now. There's something about today that feels different, as if something is waiting for them. But what in the world could it be? Nothing big ever changes around Fallarbor; he's probably just being paranoid.
Yes, that's what it's got to be. Simply paranoia. Chris shoves the thoughts into a dark cabinet in the back of his mind, where it could stay for the rest of the day. He has a job to do.
{OoC: Just for clarification, Chris' Skarmory (Cassandra) is the one keeping watch at the farthest end of eastern Fallarbor (Route 113), so she's the one closest to the others at the moment. Let me know if anything needs changing.}
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