Char (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
rivalkidneypunch) wrote2010-05-20 01:35 am
rivalkidneypunch) wrote2010-05-20 01:35 am
[Rude awakenings ITT]
It took two days of rest before Char woke up, an action which he regretted immediately. Every last part of him ached. No, ached was too gentle of a word. Every last part of him felt like an Onix was attempting to tap-dance on it. He was positively exhausted; even just trying to think about moving seemed like a chore. He felt wretched and miserable and sick. In fact, he would have been entirely content to just curl up in a ball and never move again. He'd never felt this roughed up. He'd never felt this weary.
But he'd also never felt this hungry. Even in his wild days, when he'd been absolutely inept at foraging and even worse at hunting, he couldn't remember it being this bad. He was absolutely starving. That alone was enough to force him out... of... a bed that distinctly was not his.
Where... was this? Biting back a groan, Char forced himself upright, slid off the bed. There were two beds in the room, though the other was empty. Judging from the... weird... machine... doohickeys... this was... a hospital? No, that was dumb. Char was a Pokemon: this had to be a Pokemon Center. Funny, though... he didn't think they treated Pokemon in their human forms. How'd he wind up here, anyway? It was safe to say he'd been injured -- the nonstop aching in a billion different places definitely wasn't a case of growing pains -- but... how?
Char moved to the door, peeking outside. Moving was hard. His body protested every single little movement. He felt... strangely heavy. Nobody around. ...Good. Char never much cared for Pokemon Centers -- no way he was sticking around here.
He barely managed to take a step before his wings caught in the doorframe. The newly-grown limbs would have been sensitive enough without the abuse they'd suffered; the collision sent a red-hot jab of pain rocketing down his spine. Char hissed and backed up, biting back a swear. Stupid wi...
Stupid wings?!
Char twisted in a frantic circle, trying to get a look at them. Those... those were wings, alright. On his body. Attached to him. His wings. That he had. Because he had wings. Why were there wings? Frantically, Char looked down at his hands. Long, thin arms. Battered, sliced up, bruised, but still unmistakably orange. They rose up to the top of his head. Two horns. Not one. Sticking out of him like antennae. Underneath that, some kind of freaky swan neck. Way too long. No wonder he'd felt so heavy... he was huge. He hadn't even noticed his own height at first -- he'd assumed he was human, but... no. He was just giant. And orange. And there were wings.
...Char needed to sit down. So he did. On the floor. He was positively dizzy with shock. This... was he hallucinating? High out of his mind? He had to be, because suddenly he was a Charizard and that made no sense because why was he a Charizard oh god this was not something he could just undo oh god. Frantically, he tried making the switch back to his human form, hoping that it would all go away and he'd be back to normal.
Those wings were still there. Offensive, mangled, alien objects, protruding from his skin like leeches. Looking at them made him feel vaguely sick. So he didn't. Maybe if... if he just pretended they didn't exist, he... oh god, he needed to figure out what had happened. Char tried to fold them against his back, but they wouldn't respond. Maybe they were too smashed up to move. Maybe he just couldn't figure out how to move muscles he'd apparently grown overnight.
...He sucked it up and forced his way through the doorway anyhow, pulling them through with brute force. Doing his best to tune out the screaming pain that stupid move brought on. He was quite sure he was going to faint. Maybe he should sit down again.
Char pressed on, keeping a hand against the hallway for support and trying to pretend his legs weren't shaking. The last he could recall, he'd been looking for Sharks to rough up. Did they do this? No, that was crazy. They were just a bunch of punks. Nowhere near tough enough to hurt him like this. He'd never evolve for something like that. Never. ...Oh. He'd made it out to the lobby. Several waiting trainers and a few Pokemon stared. For half a second, he desperately looked for Green's face in that crowd. Stupid. What the hell was he hoping to find? Green wasn't here. Even if he was... he'd be looking for a Charmeleon.
One of the helper Chanseys had noticed him. She waddled up, chiding him in Pokemon-speak. "Mr. Kerosene...? What are you doing out of bed? You shouldn't have transformed, you've messed up your bandages. Come on, let's go back to your room. You can't leave yet, we haven't been able to contact your trainer."
He opened his mouth to speak -- tell her not to call him Kerosene -- Who'd even told her to call him that, anyway? -- didn't need to contact his trainer, he could take care of himself -- but all that came out was a hoarse little rasp. His voice was raw, like he'd been screaming nonstop for a day or two, and his neck throbbed. Bruised, bitten. But what part of him wasn't? He could have laughed. Instead, he just ignored the Chansey, brushed right past her. There was always a PC in Pokemon Center lobbies. Char logged onto the school network, frantically typing out a hasty message:
What the hell happened?
But he'd also never felt this hungry. Even in his wild days, when he'd been absolutely inept at foraging and even worse at hunting, he couldn't remember it being this bad. He was absolutely starving. That alone was enough to force him out... of... a bed that distinctly was not his.
Where... was this? Biting back a groan, Char forced himself upright, slid off the bed. There were two beds in the room, though the other was empty. Judging from the... weird... machine... doohickeys... this was... a hospital? No, that was dumb. Char was a Pokemon: this had to be a Pokemon Center. Funny, though... he didn't think they treated Pokemon in their human forms. How'd he wind up here, anyway? It was safe to say he'd been injured -- the nonstop aching in a billion different places definitely wasn't a case of growing pains -- but... how?
Char moved to the door, peeking outside. Moving was hard. His body protested every single little movement. He felt... strangely heavy. Nobody around. ...Good. Char never much cared for Pokemon Centers -- no way he was sticking around here.
He barely managed to take a step before his wings caught in the doorframe. The newly-grown limbs would have been sensitive enough without the abuse they'd suffered; the collision sent a red-hot jab of pain rocketing down his spine. Char hissed and backed up, biting back a swear. Stupid wi...
Stupid wings?!
Char twisted in a frantic circle, trying to get a look at them. Those... those were wings, alright. On his body. Attached to him. His wings. That he had. Because he had wings. Why were there wings? Frantically, Char looked down at his hands. Long, thin arms. Battered, sliced up, bruised, but still unmistakably orange. They rose up to the top of his head. Two horns. Not one. Sticking out of him like antennae. Underneath that, some kind of freaky swan neck. Way too long. No wonder he'd felt so heavy... he was huge. He hadn't even noticed his own height at first -- he'd assumed he was human, but... no. He was just giant. And orange. And there were wings.
...Char needed to sit down. So he did. On the floor. He was positively dizzy with shock. This... was he hallucinating? High out of his mind? He had to be, because suddenly he was a Charizard and that made no sense because why was he a Charizard oh god this was not something he could just undo oh god. Frantically, he tried making the switch back to his human form, hoping that it would all go away and he'd be back to normal.
Those wings were still there. Offensive, mangled, alien objects, protruding from his skin like leeches. Looking at them made him feel vaguely sick. So he didn't. Maybe if... if he just pretended they didn't exist, he... oh god, he needed to figure out what had happened. Char tried to fold them against his back, but they wouldn't respond. Maybe they were too smashed up to move. Maybe he just couldn't figure out how to move muscles he'd apparently grown overnight.
...He sucked it up and forced his way through the doorway anyhow, pulling them through with brute force. Doing his best to tune out the screaming pain that stupid move brought on. He was quite sure he was going to faint. Maybe he should sit down again.
Char pressed on, keeping a hand against the hallway for support and trying to pretend his legs weren't shaking. The last he could recall, he'd been looking for Sharks to rough up. Did they do this? No, that was crazy. They were just a bunch of punks. Nowhere near tough enough to hurt him like this. He'd never evolve for something like that. Never. ...Oh. He'd made it out to the lobby. Several waiting trainers and a few Pokemon stared. For half a second, he desperately looked for Green's face in that crowd. Stupid. What the hell was he hoping to find? Green wasn't here. Even if he was... he'd be looking for a Charmeleon.
One of the helper Chanseys had noticed him. She waddled up, chiding him in Pokemon-speak. "Mr. Kerosene...? What are you doing out of bed? You shouldn't have transformed, you've messed up your bandages. Come on, let's go back to your room. You can't leave yet, we haven't been able to contact your trainer."
He opened his mouth to speak -- tell her not to call him Kerosene -- Who'd even told her to call him that, anyway? -- didn't need to contact his trainer, he could take care of himself -- but all that came out was a hoarse little rasp. His voice was raw, like he'd been screaming nonstop for a day or two, and his neck throbbed. Bruised, bitten. But what part of him wasn't? He could have laughed. Instead, he just ignored the Chansey, brushed right past her. There was always a PC in Pokemon Center lobbies. Char logged onto the school network, frantically typing out a hasty message:
What the hell happened?
no subject
... Halloween, right.
no subject
no subject
Did I hurt you?
[The most serious of serious faces is looking up at Char now.]
no subject
But that would mean lying to him.
So after a long, heavy pause, he speaks up.]
...Yeah.
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...
... Is it too late to say I'm sorry?
no subject
[Which is hypocritical as heck when Char's beating himself up over the things he just did, but shush. Common sense only applies to little brothers.]
'Sides... it ain't like I tried to stop you or nothin'.
no subject
[Somehow that doesn't make Bulba feel any better about it.]
That's... baaa...
no subject
[He knew that this wouldn't go over well. God, it's just one trainwreck after another. Char tries to straighten up, to take his weight off of Bulba.]
Told you I didn't fight back, didn't I? It hurt, but...
[Augh fucen he is no good at this shit. Have a frustrated pause while he tries to put this together.]
Gettin' dragged down into the dark by you don't hurt half as much as watchin' you go down alone.
[fffffffuck that's sappy and embarrassing. Char's just gonna get all huffy and dismissive and look away now.]
Anyway, it ain't your fault. It was my choice, so don't you apologize at me for shit I wanted to do.
no subject
You're stupid. [Sniff.] And I am too.
[He's still got his arm around Char, so he's just going to clench his fingers in his shirt.]
We're both stupid.
[He frowns and bites his lip to cut off a stream of apologies for other things, gently leaning his head on him cause its the closest they can get to a cuddle puddle.]
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But it's not like any of that stuff really matters right now. Char's still looking away, but he's gonna lift his hand up to ruffle Bulba's hair. It's not much. Definitely a far cry from the hug Bulba probably needs. But... he's Char. These short-lived, embarrassed little acts of almost-affection are as close as he gets.
If nothing else, at least he can smile. He's still all broken up and exhausted. He's still stuck in a body he doesn't want. The forest is still a smoldering mess. But Char still has it in him to smile because damnit, he's a big brother, and one of them's gotta smile.]
You must get it from me. Now lighten up, alright? You're gonna bring in rain clouds if you keep lookin' that gloomy.
no subject
Not that he wasn't going to be kicking himself later. So much for trying to be a support. He mumbles and grumbles a little, but it's nothing much.]
Right, right. That would be sorta detrimental to getting you home.
[Oh look. It's a little one, but there's a grin.