reveiller | video. | action for goldenrod.

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video. | action for goldenrod.

[The first thing you should notice is that he is wearing something gold, tacky and very, very frilly. If you tilt your head and squint sideways, you might be able to make out the tell-tale black stripes across the back of jacket. In all honesty, it looks like a very, very artistic and frilly rendition of a pikachu sans tail. In fact, that might explain the two red circles on his cheeks, painted on delicately. There is a Misdreavus threading through his hair carefully, picking her way across his brown strands and two yellow and black hair clips that stand up in a manner reminiscent of a pikachu's ears and a trapinch that's more or less consuming his boot right off of his foot. He pays them no mind, as per usual.

He appears to be collapsed on the bed, gear propped up between his hands as he huffs into the screen, poking at something with a finger. From the vantage point of the camera, it appears to be small, hand-held calendar.]

It looks like my birthday won't be coming this year either.

[Somewhat wry. He isn't disappointed, but he's in one of those pensive moods. Tilting his head so that it rests on an arm, he blinks, slowly.]

I have an hour to kill before the great reveal, at any rate. Anyone up for a rousing game of word association?

I'll start -- 'month'.

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I spent a lot of time around adults, so I'm used to it. [ smile smile smile. ]

Oh, good. I'll be right back, then. Take a seat.

[Aaaand he'll just be wandering over to the small half-kitchen area to get himself a cup of instant coffee. There is a single chair in the room, and a well-kept bed. Actually, he's surprisingly neat for a fourteen-year-old teenage boy.

The eevee wanders over to glance at you warily.]

[ Rise snags the chair with a little sigh, setting the bag down by her feet and stretching-- until she looks over at the Eevee. ]

Aww, it's okay. I promise I don't bite.

[Have a dubious look, because anyone that's associated with his trainer can't be entirely harmless.

He ventures forward towards Rise cautiously, warily. Aaaaand then suddenly stiffens and bolts, darting under the bed.

The reason? There is a hair iron floating across the room lazily.]

Gee, and I thought Sora's Eevee was--

[ oh god and then Rise nearly fell out of her chair. ] --?!

[The hair iron turns your way. Aaaaaaaand suddenly it falls to the ground, no longer supernaturally imbued. Rather, there is now a very excitable gastly in your personal space, trying to lick you with ghostly affection. It remembers you! It will never forget!]

[ oh geez, and Rise's trying to hold a ball of gas in place, still startled, but laughing. ]

Calm down, Smoky, it hasn't been that long!

[Nooooooo, always too long. He attempts to convey this by exuberant licking. You don't get a say in this, Rise.

It's around then that Fuji returns, coffee in hand and more than a little amused by the sight playing out before him. Chuckling--]

'Smoky', huh. So that's what you called him. No wonder he doesn't listen any more.

Well, you-- [ CALM DOWN, GASTLY. ] -- never told me what his name was, so I had to call him something!

Yes, well, [LICK LICK LICKITY LICK] I couldn't exactly give you a name for him that didn't exist.

[Chuckling, he picks up the discarded hair iron with one hand, and waves it.

The reaction is instantaneous. The gastly holds off of his exuberant licking and goes to cuddle with the metallic piece of hair utensil. This is how you train your pokemon, guys.]

Edited 2011-03-02 02:00 (UTC)

[ what a weird ghost, but she can't help a giggle. ]

Well, there you go. He's got a name now.

Edited 2011-03-02 02:08 (UTC)

Smoky. It has a nice ring to it.

Beats not calling him anything all the time, anyway.

I felt bad enough when I couldn't come up with a name for my Eevee for a few days.

It doesn't seem like they mind, being called by their species.

That's like calling someone "Person".

Yes, well, 'person' doesn't sound as interesting as 'Cyndaquil', or 'Misdreavus'.

I don't know, mine seem to like having their own names. That way, they know they're different.

I think mine already know they are. [He looks down pointedly at the gastly who's still snuggling away with the hair iron. Do you see any other pokemon doing this? Do you?]

I think my main problem is that I never know what they'll look like after they finish evolving.

Oh, I can tell you that. What do you have?

And spoil the unexpected surprise of watching them evolve? How could you.

It's for the good of giving them decent names!

Point. I guess I could make a few sacrifices.

[There's a long pause as he realizes something, well, crucial. And then--] Stay here for a sec. I'll go find them.

[Aaaand wandering off towards the kitchen area. He has to drag the quilava out from under the sink and fetch the misdreavus from the overhanging lights, among other things. This... might take a while.]

[ ... no worries, she'll just sit here with her totally innocuous bag. ]

[He crosses the living area at least three more times, each time with a new pokemon trailing after him/slung over his arm until it's starting to look more and more like a traveling circus.

Sometime between dislodging the trapinch from the showerhead, the eevee crawls out from under the bed to gauge the situation.

He returns, blinking. A quilava, misdreavus, trapinch and the gastly with his hair iron. And, well, there's the eevee, but where's--

Oh.

Sighing, he takes the spatula from where he left it on the nightstand and starts to peel the ditto from the wall where it is currently stretched all over lazily.]

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