notes – for the lovely inked kisses! also, currently I have a Christmas request post on my livejournal, anyone can request up to 4 drabbles from me during this time, so feel free to access the link from my profile and tell me if you want me to write something for you (: I've allowed anons to post, so don't fret if you don't have an lj account.
and have a lovely ending
There is a story about a boy who stands alone on the top of a haunted mountain, a big goliath that pierces the sky spanning between Kanto and Johto. They say that this boy with red eyes and pale skin does not speak, does not freeze in the bitter cold, and that he has never lost a single battle.
In short, he is a ghost.
And so a smaller boy with golden eyes and dark hair saddles up to take on the Supernatural. He does not like to speak, he is calculative and quiet and a kind little thing with a tendency towards heroism. He does not show it, but he enjoys the sensation of winning and saving, rewards and victory – challenges that only he can conquer.
He delights at the thought of further cementing his existence (as a pokémon master) on the earth.
The small boy makes his way to the top of the haunted peak, brushing the pokémon aside with one sweep of his typlosion's claw and his seaking's horn. He runs through numerous strategies, a variety of plans to fall back on, rechecking his medical supplies five times.
But all of this tumbles away the moment he finds the ghost. It – he – wears a cap covered with snowflakes; a tiny vest over a thin shirt, baggy jeans and a painfully bored expression. There is a lifelessness in his scarlet eyes that makes the small boy tremble. And there is only one sure instinct left within the little trainer: to survive.
Snow rains down.
It is too late when he realizes that he does not live past the brutality of the lost battle. And he falls off the ghost boy's magnificent throne, back down to his earth – with broken bones and red eyes and pale skin and all.
