I've been sorting through some desires.
There's this illustration Jason has on his laptop, hidden away in a folder that's in a folder inside a folder within another folder. From before he came out, it's a minimalist affair, depicting a single black crayon stroke crashing vertically at a skewed angle down along the digital canvas. Normally it wouldn't be so remarkable, but the name of the file really makes it quite the piece. This black line, saved at 2:48 in the morning during Jay's senior year of high school, was given the file name 'letmefall.'
One thing was for sure, this was the last time Roger would let Jay bring a wild animal into the place.
Finding his nearly naked roommate suffering from the same affliction as him was a surprise, but it wasn't enough to distract him from his true purpose: throw this broken bird out the window of his third floor apartment so he'd never have to suffer as much as he did ever again. Unfortunately, reason got to him before violence took over, and now he was recovering from staring at a piece of jewelry like it was a dying relative telling him where the gold was buried.
He'd have preferred gold at that moment. Sadly, all he had was the gemstone in his head.
Jay scratched his head. Weren't he and Roger supposed to go to class tomorrow? That all seemed a bit out of reach at the moment. He couldn't keep his thoughts in line, everything was happening so quickly, every thought, every feeling, every action and reaction a blur impossible to focus in on. He was only a third of what had become a triptych of confusion in his own bedroom, and trying to find anything valid from silently conversing with Roger wasn't getting him anywhere. They were both pretty dumb right then and there.
The humans were yanked from their conferring when Nova whispered, "Guys?"
As Jay blinked back into reality, he mumbled, "Maybe I want a closer look at that thing," while pointing where Nova's leg was hiding underneath her.
The pearl of wisdom. Oh, how much more it shined every time he saw it.
Nova quickly shook her head. "No, no, I think you've had enough."
"Might be useful to see it up close again," Roger said as he crawled along the floor toward the pidgey, his bones creaking with the movement, muscles contracting as his rigid body continued to change before her, shrinking again. Since yesterday, the poor young man had lost half a foot in height.
Nova stood up and stepped back against the bed where Jay laid above her.
"It's gonna be alright," Jay said, red eyes glowing as he smiled a sharp, toothy smile down at the bird. He reached out to her, hands clammy and shaking.
With a shout, she pecked his drawing hand, sending a sharp pain up his arm that made the human growl low as she flew with great difficulty out the bedroom door.
"Get away from me!" she shrieked, her voice reverberating through the whole of the apartment.
Nova landed on the back of the couch, letting her talons rip apart the cushions while she looked around the living area. There weren't any open windows, and all the doors were out of reach for her small frame. If she couldn't escape, she'd have to hide, but where?
With a sigh of resignation, she chose the bathroom, the humans calling out to her out of her view as she stepped inside. If she was lucky, they'd still be in too much sheer agony to go after her. Maybe they'd calm down after a bit, or at least stop being so creepy. She flew against the door, letting it slam as the pain in her left wing spread to the rest of her body. Her gaze shot around the room, hardly in the mood to pay as much attention to any details as she usually did. She hid behind the clear shower curtain, trapped in an even smaller rectangular prison while she pecked and bit at her leg, desperate to be rid of the jewelry that had wrapped itself around her ankle, as if she was supposed to be the one to watch over it. Not a chance.
She'd have liked it if things could get better soon, or better yet, entirely different. Forget these humans. Forget the guild. None of this was worth it. Maybe if she got this thing off, she could leave these idiots and go somewhere else, somewhere where humans could actually take care of pokémon. That'd be nice. She'd stay there until she could finally get back home and be a full-time tailor again. It was a great plan. The two humans she started with were really starting to get less and less appealing.
You wanna know what's funny? I also found a little something Roger wrote for his Introduction to Poetry class during his second semester of college. It's a real artistic statement, Top 40 jam for the summertime.
Distance Running
Someone's filled with isolation
Someone's wracked beyond the seams
Someone's thankless in the daytime
Someone's heard the scattered screams
From this view
I see you
So hopeless
In your phase.
What to do
I ask you
So endless
Is this haze.
Someone's in the same old story
Someone's standing by the hole
Someone's certain of their trouble
Someone's got a whispered soul
Creativity and spare moments in our minds. Such deadly little creatures in the face of faith, aren't they?
"I think we upset her," Jay said, curled up on the bed as he looked out beyond the doorway, trying to figure out what he'd done to deserve getting bitten by the little pokémon.
"I guess," Roger murmured while on his back in the middle of the bedroom floor, sweat trickling down his forehead as he spread himself over the carpet.
A lengthy pause fell over the pair. Roger watched as Jay's left ear seemed to get longer and pointier, spreading out against the side of his head like some kind of fashion statement. The patches of hair were spreading along his body as well, going shades darker under the light. In turn, Jay saw as Roger's eyes finished transitioning to a beautiful shade of red, matching his. Strangely comforting, in a way, knowing that no matter what they might become, they might still be the same species. Jay wondered when his fingernails would get sharper like Roger's, a purple hue underneath.
"I know we're getting smaller," Jay whispered, eyes closed, ready to fall asleep.
Roger rubbed his head, enjoying the good scratch his longer nails afforded him. "Really?" he shook his head. "That's the part you're gonna focus on?"
Jay yawned. "How small will we get, you think?"
Looking up at the unilluminated glow-in-the-dark star stickers on the ceiling, Roger shrugged. "I dunno. Pokémon are way too tiny."
"Agreed," Jay said with a tiny nod, his new ear shaking with the gesture.
As the boys lay dazed, in the time she had to herself, Nova had used her beak and tongue to turn the lock on the bathroom door. If she was honest, she wasn't entirely sure if she could do it again without it taking a lot of time, accuracy, luck, and balancing precariously on the sink.
She wouldn't have it any other way.
She had a new plan, a new way to make things as safe and as normal as they could be. Forget that she couldn't get the pearl off. In a few hours, after everyone had stopped being weird and gotten some sleep, Nova would check in on the humans, see how they were doing. If they were better, they'd find a way to gather supplies, then either hole up in this apartment or go somewhere smarter, depending on what the boys knew. If they were worse, she'd battle them. If they were gonna be pokémon, they'd have to learn sometime, anyway. Then after she won, she'd make them let her go. Then she'd fly until she found a good, tall tree to rest on, recuperate, and figure out her next steps. Maybe she couldn't fly too well, but at least she could get above all this. She had to.
This was a good plan. It was a smart one. Nova was doing a good job. She ran through the details again and again, a mantra developing. Supplies or battle. Safe. Supplies or battle. Safe. Supplies or battle. Safe. She closed her eyes in the shower, letting the mantra put her to sleep in the dark, damp, and cramped room.
That's when, at three o' clock in the morning, there was a knock at the front door of Roger and Jay's apartment.
"Harder," said a deep voice, holding back its joy to be stern.
A much louder knock this time, setting all three of the apartment's occupants to wide eyes and a tightness in their chests.
"Open up, my little pokéfriends," said the voice now, charged with intent. "These walls are thinner than you know."
