for i_am_emmet

[offtracks]

[Ingo has been in this land for a little while now.

There wasn't any grand cataclysm. No rift that he's aware of. He did not fall from the sky. One day, he simply woke up here, lying on the side of the road with a stranger fussing over him in a language that he hardly understood.

He'd quickly made excuses - which he's quite sure she did not understand - and fled into the nearby forest. That's where he's been living, if one could call it that. How do you cope with losing your home, your people, everything you know, for a second time? How do you keep going when you do remember what you've lost, and know that there's no way home?

For a while, he didn't. He doesn't know how many days he passed in a blur of grief and despair, too hollowed-out to consider doing anything but sleep or mourn. It was his Pokemon who cared for him then. He offered to break their Pokeballs and set them free, guilt-ridden that he'd dragged them away from their home too, but none of them left. Instead Gliscor and Tangrowth took it in turns to go out and gather food for everyone. Machamp built a shelter of logs and branches, and Alakazam sat with him and woke him from his nightmares. They all guarded him from wild Pokemon. There aren't too many, or else they aren't so aggressive here. Once, there was a strange black-furred Zoroark, but they attacked it so fiercely that it never even attempted to become Ingo-in-white.

If not for them, he would not have survived this second derailment.

And it's for their sake that he eventually forces himself to begin moving again. He cannot let them waste their lives on him like this. No matter what it feels like, his tracks have not reached an end just yet.

But where do they lead? His first tentative venture out of the forest brings several discoveries. For one: he can't communicate very well with the people here. The language is one he understands! Sort of! But it feels like old, rusty gears in his mind. Written words are easier, but the people just speak too fast and too much. No one will pause to let him try and translate. In fact, most of the people he sees on the road avoid him altogether. It seems outsiders aren't welcome in this land - or, maybe, he just cuts a rather unpleasant figure. His standards of living have slipped.

And this place! To the east of his forest, there's an enormous bridge made of towering metal and glass; to the west, there's a city that's very similar. He attempts to venture into it once, only to find the lights and noise overwhelming. With a blinding headache, he flees back to the forest.

Maybe if he spent time there, he could get used to it. But what's the point? Why should he start from scratch again, carving out a place for himself in a strange land, when it can be torn away from him again so easily? He can't go through it all over again. He won't live through this a third time. The loss of his memories was probably the only reason he settled into Hisui so easily. As much as he's always wondered who he used to be, he's starting to think the amnesia was a blessing. But he didn't forget Hisui when he came here, so he doubts he'll forget this place if he's ever taken somewhere else.

No. There's no place for him here. He doesn't want to fight to make one. So eventually, after having managed to acquire a map, he forms a different plan. This region has a large port city. If he gets there, and finds a way to earn his keep, surely he can barter passage back to Hisui? It's clear to him by now that he won't find any of his friends or clanmates waiting. There's no going home for him. But however long it may have been, the land will still be there. He can return to the familiarity of Mount Coronet, and maybe one day his bones will rest near those of his clan. It will be no less lonely than living here in the forest, but at least he will know where he is and how he fits.

The first step of the journey is to get through the city - Nimbasa, according to the map - and exit by the southern road. It's an intimidating prospect. There are no guards or city walls, but they obviously don't much like outsiders, and he cannot pass for a local. What, then, to do? He spends a day or two scouting it out. The bustle barely dies down even at night. How do they keep the lights burning so long? When do these people sleep?

Ingo finally decides to set out in the early hours of the morning. The streets are still brightly lit, but at least they're quiet then; most of the people have gone. It should be fine? But maybe he's just developed some sort of aversion to the place - his head still starts pounding before he's even halfway through. It's the sort of headache that makes it hard to see, much less navigate. Luckily, he isn't the only one with a good sense of direction here; he releases Probopass.]

We are trying to leave this city to the south. Can you help guide me there?

[Probopass offers him a floating stone arm to lean on. And they move through Nimbasa like that - a little slow, Ingo leaning heavily on his Pokemon. He's a shadow of the man he was in Hisui: gaunt, bedraggled, shaggy and bearded. He hasn't been eating even as well as he used to, and certainly hasn't been attending to his usual grooming standards. Well, who's left to care how he looks?]

Comments

[offtracks]

Doesn't matter now, I suppose.

[If the Zoroark here aren't going to do such things...that actually does make the place feel a little safer.

Shaving done, Ingo looks down at himself. He's still feeling worn down, but the presence of another person makes it a lot easier to force himself through basic self-care.]

Could I...borrow some clean clothes? Or are some of mine still about? [He's getting to understand the state of things here!] I'd like to...draw a bath?

[He can. Figure out the plumbing, he thinks.]

[i_am_emmet]

All your clothes are where you left them. Except the dirty laundry. I did that years ago so you wouldn't come back to rancid clothes.

[offtracks]

...thank you. You...

[Hm. He doesn't really know Emmet at all; they've had like two conversations. But Ingo is starting to worry a little bit.]

This is likely overstepping, but you did not need to keep everything just so. It has been a long time.

[i_am_emmet]

Yes, but putting everything up- would feel like you would never come back.

[offtracks]

People usually don't, after so long.

[And Ingo didn't even intend to. That...hurts a bit to realize now. But how could he when he hadn't known?]

[i_am_emmet]

But you did.

[offtracks]

...I suppose so.

[Can't argue with that!]

Well. I am going to bathe, then. [Should he just. Shut the door on Emmet. This is awkward.]

[i_am_emmet]

[Emmet nods and heads off so Ingo can bathe in peace.]

[offtracks]

[As he thought, Ingo does manage to figure out how everything in the bathroom works! Emmet's soaps are much finer than anything he's used before. After everything, he'd stopped caring much about his own personal state, but...it actually is nice, washing off all that grime. And clean clothes! He hasn't had any clean clothes to change into since Hisui!

The warmth and comfort is overwhelming. He sits on the edge of the bed afterwards and cries a little - he's trying to do it quietly, but probably not succeeding quite as well as he'd like.

When he's done, he starts to investigate the room. He's allowed, right? They're his things. There are some books. Written Galarian has come easier for him, and he needs the practice; he takes one with him. When he finally emerges to go look for Emmet, he's still wearing his tattered coat, over new-old clothes that are a little large on him now.]

[i_am_emmet]

[Emmet had decided to cook breakfast. It was the morning after all and Ingo- well he looked like he needed something to eat. When Emmet heard Ingo leave the bathroom earlier, he made some oatmeal and eggs.]

[Sure it was nothing fancy, but it fill a hole. When he saw Ingo come out of the bedroom, the Pokemon were already eating their own breakfast.]

I made breakfast.

[offtracks]

Thank you.

[They've already talked about the food thing, but it would be terribly rude to argue now, with a meal already made! Ingo does hesitate, though, looking over the gathered Pokemon. His party ate before they started out on their trek, but...not nearly as much as seems available here. He hasn't been providing for them as he ought.

Is there...somewhere I could...?

[He reaches for the Pokeballs on his own belt, to indicate what he means. His Pokemon are all fairly large, as are most of the ones already here; there may not be enough space in here for everybody.]

[i_am_emmet]

Let your team out? That would be great, they should meet everyone.

[Emmet wasn't thinking about size constraints at the moment.]

But maybe I should put some of the rest up for a little bit so not to overwhelm yours.

[offtracks]

[His lips move for a second, translating the words to himself, before:]

Yes. My - they are friendly! But this was not...the plan. I was going to walk until dark.

[His team, save Probopass and Alakazam, won't be expecting to emerge into this sort of environment! And the unscheduled departure may make them nervous - Ingo usually sticks to any schedule he makes, and the usual interruptions would be him running into unexpected danger.]

[i_am_emmet]

Okay, we can introduce them then. Maybe we can go to the park with them so they have more room to play?

[offtracks]

[Outside. Well, he doesn't feel so horribly out of place now. And it's unlikely they'll run into someone who knows him, in such a large city.]

Alright. They will need to eat.

[Ingo goes to sit down. The food isn't unfamiliar, but it's very different from his fare of recent days - a huge step up! He tucks in with a gusto that is probably not polite.]

[i_am_emmet]

[Emmet watches for a moment.]

I will get them some food and maybe we can feed them in turns?

[offtracks]

[CAUGHT SCARFING DOWN FOOD! Ingo's mildly embarrassed, and puts down his fork. And then looks at the fork as if only just realizing he was using it at all, because this is not a utensil he actually remembers using? Well, clearly his hands know it.]

That's fine.

[So. Here they are, at a meal. They should maybe talk. Ingo doesn't really want to ask, but it's going to be worse if he waits and then has to ask when it's definitely too late, so:]

Are we brothers?

[It seems likeliest, given everything, but you can have a strong family resemblance in other instances!]

[i_am_emmet]

[Now that question caught Emmet off guard. He was getting out the bag of Pokemon Kibble and some extra bowls for Ingo's Pokemon when it was asked. He looked over at Ingo.]

Yes, you're the older twin.

[offtracks]

Twins?

[It seems obvious in retrospect, but Ingo still sounds a little surprised. Not too common, after all! He only knew identical twins existed in theory, never met any before.]

Hm! I always wondered if I had family. [.....] How much older?

[i_am_emmet]

34 minutes. Mom says she was tempted to cut me out.

[offtracks]

[Ingo laughs.]

Just had to make an entrance.

[He's...not sure why he said that.]

[i_am_emmet]

I am Emmet, I let you have the spotlight for a while. Be grateful.

[offtracks]

And never again.

[Of course he doesn't say it bitingly; he has no experience on which to found such an accusation! But it has the feeling of some old, well-worn conversational tracks.]

[i_am_emmet]

Of course, I think it suits me well, yup.

[offtracks]

[Ingo snorts and turns back to his breakfast. If the routine's supposed to go on, he doesn't know the next part. But the whole exchange has made him feel a little lighter - like this is somewhere he might actually belong.]

What do you do?