Doubt Thou the Stars are Fire
Cold was the start of winter over the land of Sinnoh, harsh were the winds whipping thick ice and snow against the Earth. The farther north, the more likely it seemed that your blood would freeze—as would all warmth would escape even Hell (or Distortion World, whichever the series believes it is). How dead the season was…
…Eh, no, no, that's what a poet would say. Just because one reads poetry doesn't mean everything should be described like so, isn't that right, Lucian?
"Did someone call me?" Lucian looked up from his anthology of dark-themed poetry, startled by the narrative voice in the sky. The Psychic Elite was sitting alone on a plush antique recliner, feet raised comfortably on an ottoman, all set contently close to the fire place in the castle's den (just imagine those old movies by Alfred Hitchcock where there's usually a rich person displayed like that of what I described).
"Hm. I suppose I'm just hearing things. Well, then…" Lucian said to himself. It was early in December, and the region was incredibly, ball shrinking-ly cold once Winter came around. Lucian loved Winter; him being a lover of literature, the season was oft depicted as a metaphor relating to Death, loneliness, or depression. Most, if not all the greats in the written arts have used Winter for such reasons; the usage was appreciated by Lucian and the idea stuck with him for as long as he could remember. Now, he found himself as he has been for years: seated near a fire with a book in Winter (which, in actuality, is him in every season. The man is twenty and reading books for a living? A little pathetic, really…).
"Excuse me, but did someone just refer to me as 'pathetic' for my hobby being reading books?" the lavender-haired man asked aloud in an irritable manner.
Why, yes, I did, Lucian.
"Who is that? How dare you make such a remark! Come out at once!" the man snapped.
Oh, Lucian! You are so funny. Can you even begin to imagine how crazy you sound right now, talking to voices in the sky?
"Oh, you…! Flint, is it you? Or one of his friends, perhaps? I demand you show yourself at once!" Lucian was growing more aggravated at this rather offensive voice.
Don't worry, Lucian, it's not that abomination of a human being! Or any of his accomplices, for the matter being I don't even like him. Truth be told, I cannot show myself to you. I probably don't even exist.
"That's ludicrous. How could you not exist if I can hear you so clearly?"
Cynthia bought new surround-sound for the den.
"Very funny," Lucian said flatly. "Really, who are you?"
I told you, I probably don't even exist. I'm just a voice. A voice who happens to have to have the all-knowing perspective of God.
Lucian's expression grew dumbfounded. His glasses slid down a bit; was he talking to God?
No, Lucian, you're not talking to God.
"How did you know I was thinking that?" an astounded Lucian shrieked.
Gee, you'd think a Psychic would be able to tell me that. I've told you already; I have God's perspective. You must strain your eyes reading such small text so much that you don't pay attention to the wax build-up in your ears blocking your hearing anymore.
A faint pink blush stained his cheeks. "That is not true. I keep very clean, mind you. My hygiene is not an issue. And my vision is a hereditary concern, for your information." He adjusted the glasses on his face and sank further into the recliner.
Ha ha ha. I know that, Lucian. I know many things about you. But that's another matter. What my reason for being here is not to mock you—albeit fun to do—but to help you.
Lucian raised an eyebrow. "Help me? Help me with what?"
Oh, you'll find out soon, Lucian. When the time is right, you'll know—you're a smart boy. All the factors will come into play slowly.
Hard to believe, but Lucian was interested in what the voice said. "I'm not quite sure what you mean, but I suppose it'd make sense to just take in what you say. I mean, supposedly you do not even exist, and to be frank, I may be insane for actually responding—let alone have an entire conversation with you—though some of what you've said is not all a lie. Existent or not, nevertheless I will listen to what you have to say. Now that we've made an understanding—oh, my Lord, am I really saying this?—I would like an explanation to what these factors, as you say, are."
Ha ha ha. Soon, Lucian, soon. Every factor will appear sequentially to your convenience and will lead to solving a problem you've been having for a while.
Just as the voice in the sky stopped, the door to the den opened with a clicking sound.
Ah-ha, speaking of the first factor, here he comes!
Lucian turned to the door then looked back at the ceiling. "What? The factor? What do you mean? What problem?"
There was loud clacking against the wood floor into the den. It was the sound of Flint's wooden flip-flops. Lucian's head whipped down to see the afro-headed man raising an eyebrow at him.
"…Freak…" Flint mumbled as he plopped on down the antique loveseat, the farthest piece of furniture away from Lucian, to his relief.
Lucian glared at him. Yes, so says the man with the uncanny resemblance to Ronald McDonald, Lucian thought. He picked up and opened his book to the page he left off on before the voice offended him.
"I really don't care why or who, but what's up with you shouting at the ceiling?" Flint asked, his finger gracing the inside of his left nostril. Lucian lowered his book and shot him another glare. "If you don't care, then why ask?"he questioned with a bitter voice. Flint, with his finger still probing the orifice of mucus expulsion, replied simply, "Just waiting until we find a reason to put you in a home." Lucian put his book down harshly against his crossed legs, his eyes boring holes in Flint with an intense, angered stare.
"What do you want, Flint?" Lucian hissed. Flint retracted his finger, a treasure being glued onto his digit after the excavation. "I'm waiting for someone." He said, wiping the treasure on the loveseat. Lucian rolled his eyes. "Who could you possibly be waiting for in an environment where so many books surround you? It's the equivalent of waiting in a library with you." The sarcasm flooded the bespectacled man's speech; he detested Flint and how rude he was.
Flint then decided to let his hand travel up his shirt and probed around his belly button. "I told Aaron to meet me here in about ten minutes. I have a surprise for him."
Lucian's gut sank. "A-Aaron? Wha-what- why do you…" Lucian stuttered. Aaron, the youngest Elite who specialized in Bug types, was Lucian's secret. Aaron was bubbly, cheerful, a ball of sunshine. He was cute, painfully cute, and so, so very sweet. Sweetheart Aaron's pretty face had taken a toll on Lucian's heart. He was sure he had fallen in love with the boy with the sun in his eyes. Lucian found himself growing more open when he was around the younger Elite. Aaron's smile made Lucian feel so rejuvenated, so alive—and he was crazy for him. Aaron had been hanging around his superior more often as well, the two becoming close friends, despite the clash in personalities.
I knew he was setting up something! You're right, he does look like that psycho restaurant mascot bastard! Are you gonna let that cheeseburger-guzzling rip-off hurt your man?
Lucian gasped quietly. "What're you saying? He's going to hurt Aaron?" he exclaimed to the voice from the sky.
Flint looked at him funny again. "Ok, you and that ceiling thing is freaky, cut it out. Besides, I'm not gonna hurt the kid!" he protested.
Lies! All vicious lies! Don't do it, Lucian! Don't listen to his words of evil!
The Psychic Elite nodded in conformity and adjusted his glasses. "What do you want from him, then?"
"No, nothing, I just wanted to see him for a bit. I really want to give him a little something." Flint smiled at Lucian innocently, which the older man wasn't buying one bit.
Liar! Lucian, don't give in to the lie!
"I know that! Flint is as good a liar as he is a charitable person!" Lucian told the voice. Flint's expression fell.
"Lies? Please, I'm anything but. Aaron and I are good pals! He's my main squeeze, my home boy, my little sandwich-making hombre!" Flint laughed. His smile seemed very genuine. Maybe he isn't lying.
NO! He speaks of evil!
"Well, I guess you're telling the truth," Lucian hesitated.
What the Hell's the matter with you, Lucy? Didn't I just tell you he was lying?
"But he sounds like he genuinely cares about Aaro—"
Shut up, Liam! Listen to me now! He speaks to deceive you! He will eat your soul and sodomize your mother!
"Oh, my God, that's disgusti—"
"Uh, Lucian, for real, dude, you and the ceiling; it's kinda creepy…" Flint said.
See that, Lebron? He mocks you and the all-knowing voice of possibly-God!
"What? No, if you had just kept calm—"
"Dude, really, stop it! This is freaking scary!"
SILENCE! Lindsay, I command you to get up off your lazy ass and go find Aaron! He can't be left alone with Flint!
"Please, just st—"
"DUDE!"
"Flint, I'm so sor—"
Shut up, Lauren!
"I'm trying to expl—"
Listen to me, Lillian! OBEY me, Leonard!
"Dude, I'm serious!"
DON'T LISTEN BARBARA! GO AND FIND AARON NOW!
"Everyone, please, I—"
"DUDE, STOP TALKING TO THE GOD DAMN CEILING!"
HE STILL SLEEPS WITH A BLANKEY AND CALLS IT "FLOOFY BOO-BOO!"
"EVERYONE, JUST PLEASE, KINDLY SHUT THE HELL UP!" Lucian shouted to the top of his lungs, possibly causing an avalanche in Snowpoint City. Flint got scared, giving Lucian the "I just wet myself" look. Even the voice was quiet. Did Lucian keep that voice bottled up? He was scary when mad to begin with, but the angry scream was terrifying. His chest heaved up and down shallowly, his glasses askew, and a single lavender strand of hair stood up on the top of his head. He was confused and pissed, and just wanted everyone to shut up.
"Eep…." A small voice whimpered from behind. Lucian, Flint, and possibly the voice, turned their heads to the door. Standing in the room was a quivering, petrified Aaron. He had tears welling on the corners of his eyes. His hands were covering his crotch, presumably having experienced what Flint had. "Lucian…you're so scary when you're mad…" the tears started rolling down his cheeks.
"Aaron! Oh, no, I didn't mean to yell! I wasn't even mad at you! Oh, Aaron!" Lucian fixed his glasses and ran to the boy crying in the doorway.
Everybody, give a warm welcome to factor two…
Lucian closed the door behind the boy, and grabbed his hand. Aaron jumped, still scared that Lucian was still on this testosterone-fueled rage. "It's ok, Aaron. I'm not mad, see?" Aaron looked up at the older Elite, who was flashing a warm smile at him. "Here, sit down with us."
Aaron was seated on the loveseat opposite to Flint. Lucian pulled the handkerchief out from his breast pocket and wiped away the boy's tears. "There, all better." Lucian smiled again at Aaron, and he in turn smiled sweetly, making Lucian melt.
Aww, so cute! He really is adorable, Lucian. I can understand now why you have those inappropriate fantasies about this little cutie!
Lucian blushed deeply. "Please! Not…now…" he told the voice shakily. Aaron tilted his head to the side, his eyes fixing on the ceiling. "What're you talking to on the ceiling, Lucian?" Aaron asked in such a cute way, Hello Kitty would vomit due to excessive cuteness.
"Pfft, you kidding me? This whack-job has been talking to the ceiling all night long!" Flint chimed. Lucian, again, shot a death glare at him. Aaron had a lost expression on his face.
Lucian, take this opportunity to question Flint!
"What?" the man cocked his head up.
Yes, he wanted to see Aaron, remember? So go on, prove to all of us that Flint is a phony!
"Oh, right! Ahem. Flint?" started Lucian. The afro-headed man glanced at him momentarily before sticking his other finger in his right nostril. "What?"
"You wanted to give Aaron here a special surprise, didn't you?" he asked coyly. Flint's shocked expression while finger up his nose gave the two Elites a priceless picture. Aaron's eyes widened and his face completely lit up. "A SURPRISE? Oh, yay! Thanks, Flint! So where's my surprise, huh? Huh, Flint, where is it—where's my surprise, huh, Flint? Huh? Huh, Flint?" Aaron bounced. Lucian looked at Flint slyly.
"Shit." Mumbled Flint.
Hey, audience, this is to be continued in chapter two! So come back later! Go AWAY!
"Wait, wait, what? What 'chapter two'?" asked Lucian.