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- Seen Jun 30, 2015
Hoenn: Make a Wish [T] [OOC]
It was too nice a day to be cooped up in the Academy. With his mother's permission, Forrest took his students into Route 103 to teach a basic battling and catching method. It would also allow him more room for the students to practice these techniques at once, rather than a few at a time.
The grass was soft this time of year and some of the students sprawled throughout the comfortable greenery. The few that were more dazed by their new Gauntlets were asked to leave if they could not pay attention to the lesson. The other students nudged them when their eyes wandered, which Forrest saw but liked to see the older or more experienced trainers making those with less experience take the Academy more seriously.
The class was a wide range of ages, from 6-16, and this wasn't unusual for the instructor. He treated them all as equals, as they were all there to learn just as everyone else. Some of the older students were there for a refresher or just hoped to have a Battle with the instructor to test their skills. Regardless, training was never a waste, no matter the level of difficulty. Forrest's mother always stressed the perfection of basics to all their students.
"But capturing a Pokemon does not mean you own it."
Their faces twisted with some confusion.
"In fact, it's detrimental to believe you own a Pokemon. They are a partner and you are responsible for each other. When one doesn't hold respect for the other, you own that Pokemon, yes. But to consider it yours is impossible when you don't consider yourself theirs."
It was a little too philosophical for some of the students, but the youngest seemed to understand without question.
"But don't they respect that you caught them?" one of the older students asked while raising his hand.
"Not if they didn't want to be caught. Since we learn to speak to them through interaction, it's largely impossible to understand their wants and desires before you have even captured them."
"So what should you do if you don't like each other anymore?" a little girl asked.
"Release it," Forrest said simply while shrugging his shoulders.
A select few seemed surprised by this reaction. One of them raised their hand in protest. "But what about collectors and breeders? They don't necessarily care about their Pokemon or use them."
"And using them in battle is the only measure of respect?" Forrest asked rhetorically. "That collector spent time and energy researching the Pokemon and learning their habits, temperaments, migration patterns, and general behaviors. If anything, they have a deep respect for the Pokemon, and I would be surprised if that Pokemon wasn't impressed by that collector's dedication."
He turned sideways and began to pace slowly to his left. His black leather shin-high boots were camouflaged by the grass. He cupped his hands behind his back after opening his deep brown vest, allowing his bare torso to feel the oncoming breeze. "And breeders have some of the deepest respect for Pokemon. They care for them despite their size, look, or type. They are the least discriminatory of all trainers." His mind wandered to the time he was defeated by a Breeder on his way to Verdanturf Town one day.
"That's not what I meant," she spoke out in protest once more. "What if the Pokemon doesn't respect them?"
"Then they would release them-" he started plainly.
"No, about Collectors keeping the Pokemon for the sake of having it or a Breeder keeping a Pokemon that doesn't want to be kept. Even if they're dying, if they don't want your help or your company, shouldn't they be left alone?"
"And should your brother be found dying in the middle of nowhere and asked to be left alone, would you grant him that?"
The girl furrowed her brows in a bit of confusion. "That's not what-"
"It's entirely relevant," he interrupted her and faced her with his body. She threw a face of intimidation due to his size and physique, but his face remained patient and understand, almost playful. "Are your Pokemon not akin to family? Forcing anyone or anything to do what you want it to do is immoral and inconsiderate."
The younger students couldn't much follow anymore because the conversation had risen over their heads. But these conversations are why the older students continued to attend classes at the Academy. After the argument had been resolved, the demonstration proceeded.
Forrest tapped his left forearm until the hologram of a Zigzagoon appeared between himself and the students. He touched one of the Pokeballs on the leather belt which held up his tan shorts. Cacturne materialized out of the Pokeball with his eerie yellow eyes glaring at the students. His black and choppy mouth then stretched into a creepy smile and he laughed menacingly. Forrest couldn't help to chuckle while his silly Cacturne attempted to be frightening. "Pin Missle" he chuckled out.
Cacturne lazily turned his right arm outward and toward the hologram and merely dropped the spikes from his arm onto the hologram. Since he wasn't aware how Forrest had programmed the hologram, he was surprised by his trainer's response to this most unimpressive "attack."
"An attack so weak won't do enough to convince the wild Pokemon that you are skilled enough to capture it." Cacturne looked around confused before turning his head down and seeing the blue image of Zigzagoon Body Slamming him. He cried out with embarrassed pain before finding his footing again. "And you don't know of what the wild Pokemon is capable even after battling 100 of them."
The image blurred into nothing and was only seen swiping across Cacturne's body. He grunted with each strike but held his ground. Forrest nodded slightly, though the students hadn't noticed. This indicated that Cacturne was allowed to end the catching simulation. The vines he'd used to keep his ground while restoring his health whipped up and lashed at the hologram. The fake Zigzagoon seemed to have taken it well and disappeared to perform another Extremespeed, but Cacturne vanished as well. He reappeared with the hologram on the end of his left arm which was covered in a purplish-black fog. The Zigzagoon faded from existence while a caption of "Congratulations!" appeared in the air above it. The students cheered for Cacturne, which made him blush. Forrest tapped a Pokeball on his belt making Cacturne fade to red and return back to Forrest's waist.
"All those with a Pokemon already, help those without catch their first Pokemon. Each student gets 5 Pokeballs each. Return to the Academy when you have exhausted all of your Pokeballs or when you have caught a Pokemon. The next lesson begins back in the classroom."
Several of them rushed up and quickly made a line at his satchel on the ground while he walked toward Oldale Town. He wasn't concerned leaving them by themselves not only because of the age and experience of some of the students, but because his Masquerain had been hovering around the route's perimeter the entire time.
When he reached the entrance of Oldale Town, he waved "hello" to Mrs. Honnings as she worked in her gardens around the town. Some of the other adults acknowledged him as well to which he nodded with a smile. He noticed a man with a full tux fidgeting with the PokeStation, but decided to not make note of it until he called out to him.
"Hello young man," he said. His pale blue eyes seemed hollow with his light blond hair. "Might you help me out with something?"
You're not a mechanic, he thought to himself, but decided to not say anything about it because who was he to argue others' professions? "Hello, sir," he said quietly in his deep voice as he walked toward the stranger.
Having lived in Oldale all his life, he would have recognized even the least frequent of visitors. This one was new, which wasn't entirely unusual. But his face was sharp and strong, something he would have definitely remembered of a stranger. This in combination with his hair and eyes put an air of awe around Forrest. His own dull brown hair with the right side shaved into the back of his head diagonally to the left along with the rest being unkempt and lengthy made Forrest look homeless compared to the slicked and styled hair of the man before him.
"What is it you need me to do?" Forrest asked with his unexpressive voice.
"I was hoping you'd use your Gauntlet so I can see if there are any malfunctions with this."
Without a word, Forrest approached the station and began to tap on his forearm which lit up and glowed. "Could you make the command to heal your Pokemon?"
He thought to protest since he didn't have his full team with him, but he realized that was unnecessary. The machine beeped and flickered with the command and his Pokeballs began to glow, as was standard for the healing process. But something was definitely wrong. There was heat coming from the Pokeballs and he soon could smell the burning leather of his belt. He looked down and could see it smoldering upon his waist. Before he could say anything, his Gauntlet began to spark and sent electric pulses through his arm, affecting his body. As that occurred, the Pokeballs exploded as well as the PokeStation. Forrest was hurled back and thrown across the ground.
It was quiet and warm when he awoke. Once he gained his vision back, he noted a Gorebyss performing Aqua Ring around his body with his Gauntlet being chewed by a Huntail. "Shhh," he heard a voice to his left.
Forrest could only groan in pain. His left arm was black and ached deeply. His chest throbbed and his abdomen was sore. The birds' chirping screamed in his ear and the Aqua Ring whirred through his head. He wanted to speak, but his body didn't allow it. The voice's hands took his head and gently faced it up in fear the boy would hurt himself further.
"I'm sorry that happened. But, I hope you understand why."
In his disoriented state, he didn't have the energy to comprehend the words and fell back to sleep.
He woke up in the middle of the night. Though still groggy, he saw Masquerain hovering over him performing her own Aqua Ring. She had a face of deep concern for her trainer. Forrest winced a smiled and groaned as he rose to a sitting position. Masquerain muttered a complaint for him not to move, but she knew he was far too stubborn to not get back home. The woods were quiet at night, but he could hear something going on nearby. He mustn't have been dragged far from town.
He moved his charred arm up to his chest. It looked worse than it felt but his entire body ached and refused to listen to him. "Go get mother," he whispered to Masquerain deeply. She shook her head in defiance, but a desperate look of gratitude from Forrest told her that this was the best action to take. She hovered away as quickly as she could while Forrest struggled to limp back to town.
"Oh, my baby!" Barbara cried out when she found him leaning against a tree. She knew not to touch him but couldn't help but bring her fingers to his face to make sure he wasn't fatally injured. "What the hell happened?" Herbert bellowed out behind her.
"The PokeStation," he mentioned. Barbara moaned with concern and kissed her child on the cheek.
His father lifted Forrest off his feet and cradled him in his large arms. It was clear where Forrest got his physique, but he got his looks from his mother. She continued to evaluate him as he was carried back to the Academy. "I'll call for the doctor," Barbara said as Herbert laid his boy down in his bed. "Just rest," he whispered loudly as that was the only way his voice allowed him to whisper.
Forrest looked around to see his Pokemon surrounding his bed. "Let him sleep," Herbert told them, but his companions couldn't help but look on in concern.
"Are you all alright?" Forrest asked in his broken and weak voice. They seemed unharmed themselves, but remembering what had occurred, he couldn't help but think they may have been injured during the incident, if that it could be called.
He awoke late the next morning to Masquerain continuing an Aqua Ring in her sleep. She was nothing if not persistent. He uncovered himself, which stirred Masquerain awake, to see that he was undressed the night before. He could walk more regularly but knew to take it slow as he put on some underwear and headed down the hall.
He could hear the television make mention of PokeStations being destroyed all across the region. His name was mentioned as the only injury to occur during the sabotage.
His mother met him when he entered the living room. "What are you doing up, honey?" she scolded him softly but hugged him as tightly as she deemed safe for her child. "I'm hungry," he answered plainly but in a hoarse voice.
"How do you feel today?" an unfamiliar voice asked him. He looked over to see Dr. Verrion getting up off the couch with a mug of coffee in his hands. "Stiff," he said as he struggled to sit at the island separating the kitchen from the living room.
"How's your arm?"
"I don't know," he answered and laid his arm onto the island. He breathed in sharply with a slight moan, giving the doctor a warning of his injury. Dr. Verrion gently placed his hand upon the charred forearm. Forrest had no physical response, but the skin felt warm. He then took Forrest's hand and rose his arm up off the island's top to parallel the floor. Forrest winced again as Barbara put a plate of breakfast in front of him.
"It's not broken, but there is clearly nerve and tissue damage. I will schedule you for an x-ray and physical today." Dr. Verrion gently put his hand onto his lap to silently encourage Forrest to not use the limb. He walked across the living room to his bag and retrieved a sling from it and continued to fasten it to Forrest as he ate.
"Shouldn't he stay home to rest?" Barbara contested.
"We need to find out if there is any severe damage to the arm before it's inoperable."
Barbara moaned again and reached for Herbert to console her. "Don't worry hon. He's too stubborn like his father to let this hurt him."
It was too nice a day to be cooped up in the Academy. With his mother's permission, Forrest took his students into Route 103 to teach a basic battling and catching method. It would also allow him more room for the students to practice these techniques at once, rather than a few at a time.
The grass was soft this time of year and some of the students sprawled throughout the comfortable greenery. The few that were more dazed by their new Gauntlets were asked to leave if they could not pay attention to the lesson. The other students nudged them when their eyes wandered, which Forrest saw but liked to see the older or more experienced trainers making those with less experience take the Academy more seriously.
The class was a wide range of ages, from 6-16, and this wasn't unusual for the instructor. He treated them all as equals, as they were all there to learn just as everyone else. Some of the older students were there for a refresher or just hoped to have a Battle with the instructor to test their skills. Regardless, training was never a waste, no matter the level of difficulty. Forrest's mother always stressed the perfection of basics to all their students.
"But capturing a Pokemon does not mean you own it."
Their faces twisted with some confusion.
"In fact, it's detrimental to believe you own a Pokemon. They are a partner and you are responsible for each other. When one doesn't hold respect for the other, you own that Pokemon, yes. But to consider it yours is impossible when you don't consider yourself theirs."
It was a little too philosophical for some of the students, but the youngest seemed to understand without question.
"But don't they respect that you caught them?" one of the older students asked while raising his hand.
"Not if they didn't want to be caught. Since we learn to speak to them through interaction, it's largely impossible to understand their wants and desires before you have even captured them."
"So what should you do if you don't like each other anymore?" a little girl asked.
"Release it," Forrest said simply while shrugging his shoulders.
A select few seemed surprised by this reaction. One of them raised their hand in protest. "But what about collectors and breeders? They don't necessarily care about their Pokemon or use them."
"And using them in battle is the only measure of respect?" Forrest asked rhetorically. "That collector spent time and energy researching the Pokemon and learning their habits, temperaments, migration patterns, and general behaviors. If anything, they have a deep respect for the Pokemon, and I would be surprised if that Pokemon wasn't impressed by that collector's dedication."
He turned sideways and began to pace slowly to his left. His black leather shin-high boots were camouflaged by the grass. He cupped his hands behind his back after opening his deep brown vest, allowing his bare torso to feel the oncoming breeze. "And breeders have some of the deepest respect for Pokemon. They care for them despite their size, look, or type. They are the least discriminatory of all trainers." His mind wandered to the time he was defeated by a Breeder on his way to Verdanturf Town one day.
"That's not what I meant," she spoke out in protest once more. "What if the Pokemon doesn't respect them?"
"Then they would release them-" he started plainly.
"No, about Collectors keeping the Pokemon for the sake of having it or a Breeder keeping a Pokemon that doesn't want to be kept. Even if they're dying, if they don't want your help or your company, shouldn't they be left alone?"
"And should your brother be found dying in the middle of nowhere and asked to be left alone, would you grant him that?"
The girl furrowed her brows in a bit of confusion. "That's not what-"
"It's entirely relevant," he interrupted her and faced her with his body. She threw a face of intimidation due to his size and physique, but his face remained patient and understand, almost playful. "Are your Pokemon not akin to family? Forcing anyone or anything to do what you want it to do is immoral and inconsiderate."
The younger students couldn't much follow anymore because the conversation had risen over their heads. But these conversations are why the older students continued to attend classes at the Academy. After the argument had been resolved, the demonstration proceeded.
Forrest tapped his left forearm until the hologram of a Zigzagoon appeared between himself and the students. He touched one of the Pokeballs on the leather belt which held up his tan shorts. Cacturne materialized out of the Pokeball with his eerie yellow eyes glaring at the students. His black and choppy mouth then stretched into a creepy smile and he laughed menacingly. Forrest couldn't help to chuckle while his silly Cacturne attempted to be frightening. "Pin Missle" he chuckled out.
Cacturne lazily turned his right arm outward and toward the hologram and merely dropped the spikes from his arm onto the hologram. Since he wasn't aware how Forrest had programmed the hologram, he was surprised by his trainer's response to this most unimpressive "attack."
"An attack so weak won't do enough to convince the wild Pokemon that you are skilled enough to capture it." Cacturne looked around confused before turning his head down and seeing the blue image of Zigzagoon Body Slamming him. He cried out with embarrassed pain before finding his footing again. "And you don't know of what the wild Pokemon is capable even after battling 100 of them."
The image blurred into nothing and was only seen swiping across Cacturne's body. He grunted with each strike but held his ground. Forrest nodded slightly, though the students hadn't noticed. This indicated that Cacturne was allowed to end the catching simulation. The vines he'd used to keep his ground while restoring his health whipped up and lashed at the hologram. The fake Zigzagoon seemed to have taken it well and disappeared to perform another Extremespeed, but Cacturne vanished as well. He reappeared with the hologram on the end of his left arm which was covered in a purplish-black fog. The Zigzagoon faded from existence while a caption of "Congratulations!" appeared in the air above it. The students cheered for Cacturne, which made him blush. Forrest tapped a Pokeball on his belt making Cacturne fade to red and return back to Forrest's waist.
"All those with a Pokemon already, help those without catch their first Pokemon. Each student gets 5 Pokeballs each. Return to the Academy when you have exhausted all of your Pokeballs or when you have caught a Pokemon. The next lesson begins back in the classroom."
Several of them rushed up and quickly made a line at his satchel on the ground while he walked toward Oldale Town. He wasn't concerned leaving them by themselves not only because of the age and experience of some of the students, but because his Masquerain had been hovering around the route's perimeter the entire time.
When he reached the entrance of Oldale Town, he waved "hello" to Mrs. Honnings as she worked in her gardens around the town. Some of the other adults acknowledged him as well to which he nodded with a smile. He noticed a man with a full tux fidgeting with the PokeStation, but decided to not make note of it until he called out to him.
"Hello young man," he said. His pale blue eyes seemed hollow with his light blond hair. "Might you help me out with something?"
You're not a mechanic, he thought to himself, but decided to not say anything about it because who was he to argue others' professions? "Hello, sir," he said quietly in his deep voice as he walked toward the stranger.
Having lived in Oldale all his life, he would have recognized even the least frequent of visitors. This one was new, which wasn't entirely unusual. But his face was sharp and strong, something he would have definitely remembered of a stranger. This in combination with his hair and eyes put an air of awe around Forrest. His own dull brown hair with the right side shaved into the back of his head diagonally to the left along with the rest being unkempt and lengthy made Forrest look homeless compared to the slicked and styled hair of the man before him.
"What is it you need me to do?" Forrest asked with his unexpressive voice.
"I was hoping you'd use your Gauntlet so I can see if there are any malfunctions with this."
Without a word, Forrest approached the station and began to tap on his forearm which lit up and glowed. "Could you make the command to heal your Pokemon?"
He thought to protest since he didn't have his full team with him, but he realized that was unnecessary. The machine beeped and flickered with the command and his Pokeballs began to glow, as was standard for the healing process. But something was definitely wrong. There was heat coming from the Pokeballs and he soon could smell the burning leather of his belt. He looked down and could see it smoldering upon his waist. Before he could say anything, his Gauntlet began to spark and sent electric pulses through his arm, affecting his body. As that occurred, the Pokeballs exploded as well as the PokeStation. Forrest was hurled back and thrown across the ground.
It was quiet and warm when he awoke. Once he gained his vision back, he noted a Gorebyss performing Aqua Ring around his body with his Gauntlet being chewed by a Huntail. "Shhh," he heard a voice to his left.
Forrest could only groan in pain. His left arm was black and ached deeply. His chest throbbed and his abdomen was sore. The birds' chirping screamed in his ear and the Aqua Ring whirred through his head. He wanted to speak, but his body didn't allow it. The voice's hands took his head and gently faced it up in fear the boy would hurt himself further.
"I'm sorry that happened. But, I hope you understand why."
In his disoriented state, he didn't have the energy to comprehend the words and fell back to sleep.
He woke up in the middle of the night. Though still groggy, he saw Masquerain hovering over him performing her own Aqua Ring. She had a face of deep concern for her trainer. Forrest winced a smiled and groaned as he rose to a sitting position. Masquerain muttered a complaint for him not to move, but she knew he was far too stubborn to not get back home. The woods were quiet at night, but he could hear something going on nearby. He mustn't have been dragged far from town.
He moved his charred arm up to his chest. It looked worse than it felt but his entire body ached and refused to listen to him. "Go get mother," he whispered to Masquerain deeply. She shook her head in defiance, but a desperate look of gratitude from Forrest told her that this was the best action to take. She hovered away as quickly as she could while Forrest struggled to limp back to town.
"Oh, my baby!" Barbara cried out when she found him leaning against a tree. She knew not to touch him but couldn't help but bring her fingers to his face to make sure he wasn't fatally injured. "What the hell happened?" Herbert bellowed out behind her.
"The PokeStation," he mentioned. Barbara moaned with concern and kissed her child on the cheek.
His father lifted Forrest off his feet and cradled him in his large arms. It was clear where Forrest got his physique, but he got his looks from his mother. She continued to evaluate him as he was carried back to the Academy. "I'll call for the doctor," Barbara said as Herbert laid his boy down in his bed. "Just rest," he whispered loudly as that was the only way his voice allowed him to whisper.
Forrest looked around to see his Pokemon surrounding his bed. "Let him sleep," Herbert told them, but his companions couldn't help but look on in concern.
"Are you all alright?" Forrest asked in his broken and weak voice. They seemed unharmed themselves, but remembering what had occurred, he couldn't help but think they may have been injured during the incident, if that it could be called.
He awoke late the next morning to Masquerain continuing an Aqua Ring in her sleep. She was nothing if not persistent. He uncovered himself, which stirred Masquerain awake, to see that he was undressed the night before. He could walk more regularly but knew to take it slow as he put on some underwear and headed down the hall.
He could hear the television make mention of PokeStations being destroyed all across the region. His name was mentioned as the only injury to occur during the sabotage.
His mother met him when he entered the living room. "What are you doing up, honey?" she scolded him softly but hugged him as tightly as she deemed safe for her child. "I'm hungry," he answered plainly but in a hoarse voice.
"How do you feel today?" an unfamiliar voice asked him. He looked over to see Dr. Verrion getting up off the couch with a mug of coffee in his hands. "Stiff," he said as he struggled to sit at the island separating the kitchen from the living room.
"How's your arm?"
"I don't know," he answered and laid his arm onto the island. He breathed in sharply with a slight moan, giving the doctor a warning of his injury. Dr. Verrion gently placed his hand upon the charred forearm. Forrest had no physical response, but the skin felt warm. He then took Forrest's hand and rose his arm up off the island's top to parallel the floor. Forrest winced again as Barbara put a plate of breakfast in front of him.
"It's not broken, but there is clearly nerve and tissue damage. I will schedule you for an x-ray and physical today." Dr. Verrion gently put his hand onto his lap to silently encourage Forrest to not use the limb. He walked across the living room to his bag and retrieved a sling from it and continued to fasten it to Forrest as he ate.
"Shouldn't he stay home to rest?" Barbara contested.
"We need to find out if there is any severe damage to the arm before it's inoperable."
Barbara moaned again and reached for Herbert to console her. "Don't worry hon. He's too stubborn like his father to let this hurt him."
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