route_1065 | before I was an orphan boy...

Entry tags:

before I was an orphan boy...

Who: little!Sion, little!Ryner, and their collective Pokemon
Where: their house in Ecruteak
When: May 12, during Time Crisis
Summary: what happens when two little boys wake up in a mysterious house together with a few dozen mysterious (and confused) critters
Rating: let's go with PG because they are tinies but, well, this is still LOLH
Log:

It's strange to fall asleep in your own bed and wake up in one twice the size that you know isn't your own, in an unfamiliar room.

It's perhaps even stranger to wake up in that bed to find another unknown child sleeping next to you in that bed.

And perhaps even stranger still, all the mysterious animals that maybe bear some resemblance to those in story books if you squint. Like the pink puffball. Or the two cats with scythe-like horns.

...But it's also strange, but it somehow feels like it's okay. Even if he can't explain why. So for now, he just blinks.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Sion reads the note, and blinks in surprise.

"Eh...?" Partners? What was that supposed to mean?

As if in response, the scythe-horned creature nuzzles him again.

"That must be what this one calls the people they live with," he reasons, taking no issue with the concept of a mysterious pink thing being able to write. "Are they nice?"

"Clef!" Rose emphatically nods. So nice. Best partner and friend. (Emphasize this to the little versions so that maybe they'll believe it better later when they remember, that they're good people.)

"But will it be okay with them for us to be here?"

He can't tell if these creatures are just being friendly to anyone they meet like a puppy would or not.

Of course, his question seems to be the cue for the one pressed up against him to headbutt him lightly before leaning up to lick his face.

"Fairy." Rose nods even more, almost bordering on desperate because seriously what does she do. And then, to attempt to make a point, she reaches out to the child version of her dear partner's arm and brings it into a hug.

Said child gives the pink thing a few more pets. Between this and the cat thing's snuggling toward Sion... "I think these ones want us to stay, at least."

He watches that, then glances at the creature that seems to have taken such an interest in him.

"I guess so..."

Even he can't completely hide the note of doubt in his tone, though.

The logic of a four year old whose favorite bedtime stories are fairy tales and legends and who therefore sees no problem with a cat with a scythe and a pink thing that is intelligent enough to write: surely if the pink thing can write, it knows what it's talking about, and surely if it says it's okay, then it means it.

"So it's fine," he says. "We can stay here until we figure out how to get home, and we can all be friends and play together."

Flawless logic.

There sure were a lot of 'we's in that sentence. Amongst other things. Unfortunately, this is the logic of a child who's learned to be alert for dangers and to fear those with power since he learned to walk, and so sees potential ways for things to go awry around every corner.

Of course, that also means he knows better than to be rude to someone who may well have more powerful connections.

"What do you want to do?"

When in doubt, defer to the noble kid.

Why wouldn't there be a lot of 'we's in that sentence? The thought of just abandoning his new friend - or worse, hurting him - has not once occurred to him. It's just not in his nature.

He thinks for a moment, though. "Hmm... Well, what's your favorite game?" he finally asks.

"... I don't play games."

He's pretty certain that the improvised 'games' his mother sometimes comes up with to occupy him or set him to doing chores don't count.

"You don't?"

What kid doesn't play games?

"...Then, what do you do for fun?" Surely there has to be something, right?

He hesitates, a little reluctant to answer. He's already nervous--frightened, even--by this whole situation, and it shows in how his hands have gradually stopped stroking the white creature's fur to instead ball up into fists clinging to it. He knows his options--lying, saying nothing, or answering--but he also knows any of those could end poorly for him if it's not the right answer.

And sometimes, he knows, there isn't a right answer, just one that will get him hurt the least. Which means the safest bet is probably not to say anything, and hopefully get a better idea of what's best before the other boy decides he doesn't like his lack of response.

...The fact is he doesn't like the lack of response, but not in an angry way. More of a confused, sad way. Does he not have anything he does for fun? Or is it...

"...You don't want to play with me?" he asks sadly. It wouldn't be the first time - on the rare occasions his dad takes him to fancy events, any other children there want little to do with him, so...

He's more confused by that than anything. Why would anyone want to play with him in the first place? Unless... Unless the other boy doesn't know who he is.

Which means he should probably say something before he (or both of them) gets into even worse trouble.

"I'm probably not supposed to... You're a noble, right? I'm not, so..."

Ohhh. So that is what this is about... but the other way around.

He shakes his head. "Dad's a duke, but Mom was a commoner before they got married. The other noble kids don't like that much because I'm half and half, but I don't really think it should matter. Mom and Dad love each other, and they love me, and I love them. So if you're not a noble, I don't mind."

Why would he?

(...and Rose just looks up at him in wonder, because this whole thing raises a lot of questions...)

Despite his best efforts, he can't stop a look of surprise from crossing his face. It's simply too great a coincidence, even if he doesn't dare say a word about the identity of his own father. Those who know already know; telling anyone else could be dangerous.

"Are you sure it's really okay...?" With his parents, or with anyone else who might taking issue with the child of a low-born dog associating with the legitimate son of a duke.

"Of course it is," he says, perking up now that the issue is clearly something as silly as status. "Mom and Dad are really nice, and they'll be happy I've made a new friend."

Anyone else doesn't matter.

He's conflicted, now. On the one hand, he knows he should be cautious, his short experience has already taught him that much. But on the other hand.... On the other hand, he's neither blind nor deaf. He's seen other children playing, heard how happy they sound. Even with the threat of another beating looming, he's always wished he could join in somehow. Even if his mother is always there to love him and keep him company, he can't help wishing for friends.

It seems too good to be true, and he knows it's probably a bad idea, but he's lost and alone and it's hard to resist the allure of actually having a friend, just this once.

"If you say so, I guess..."

Even if there's an older noble kid just waiting to pound him the moment he steps out of line, maybe it'd still be worth it, just for the thrill of briefly being able to call someone a friend.

(Well I mean, technically it is too good to be true, in a different way. In a few months, he's going to develop the Alpha Stigma, after all.)

"Really?" You can just see his expression light up. "Then... Do you want to go outside and play catch? Is there a ball we can do that with?" he asks the pink thing, who starts a moment before nodding and sliding off the bed to go get one.

"Okay."

Really, he's fine with whatever they do. It's still new to him either way, after all. And while he's still anxious about all this, he's a little excited, too.

"Then come on!" he says excitedly as he starts finally pulling himself up off the bed. Let's follow the pink thing, who is clearly going off to look for a ball for them.

He's supposed to follow, right? He's assuming he is, so he's sliding down off the side of the bed (carefully and still keeping an eye out for, well, anything) to do that.

Of course, the white creature follows him, leaping lightly to the ground before stepping over to position itself next to him.

He walks over to the door, and - just to be safe, because maybe Sion will be happier if he knows that nothing's going to hurt him - he takes a look out the door.

"Whoa," he can't help but say at the sight of a certain yellow spider in a top hat, idly spinning an artistic web in the hallway's corner. "Sion, there's a really cool spider out here!"

He trails along behind, still not sure what to make of this, though the creature trotting along at his side is oddly reassuring in a way.

"... Is it big?"

Even asking that much takes a lot of nerve and initiative for him.

"It looks like it's probably the size of my hand! It's bright yellow, too! Look, look!" He points in the spider's direction.

Spiders are more scared of you than you are of them. Why would he ever dislike them?

Fine, he'll come take a look, if a bit hesitantly. Though really, any reluctance he has has nothing to do with the idea of spiders. But in any case, he steps up to the doorway to take a good look.

"Spiders are supposed to have eight legs, it only..."

Oh, wait, he probably shouldn't say something like that, should he. It's not his place to try to correct a noble, after all.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject