Alois Trancy (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
tangorines) wrote2011-03-31 01:10 pm
tangorines) wrote2011-03-31 01:10 pm
Entry tags:
Violet City: Inn
"Get off of me! Go, you stupid thing! Go!"
Alois wrenched away the gear from the teddiursa, shoving it as far away from him as he could. He snarled when it tried to cuddle closer to him. It was late, and it wanted to go by to sleep at Alois' side but the boy wanted none of that. He kicked it off of the bed and went back to the gear. His other pokemon surrounded the teddiursa and helped him to his feet. They weren't sure what had gotten into their trainer. They were almost afraid of him. Ladybird and the beedrill tried to corner their teddiursa friend. He had been the last one with the gear. He had seen something happen. While the bug pokémon huddled around the teddiursa, Alois sat upon his bed and stared at the face reflected back in the pokégear. His team glanced at him occasionally, trying to make their suspicious looks less obvious.
Alois couldn't ignore their stares anymore than he could ignore anyone else's. He picked up the clock from the bedside desk and threw it in their direction. Already he was reaching for another item. "Stop looking at me! Don't you have anything better to do than stare and gape at me like dying fish? Look away!"
He fumbled with the gear, his fingers trembling as he made the machine work.
[It's the Midnight Hour, Johto. Normal people are asleep at this time, at least those who hadn't been subjected to various plot related elements of a certain video game. Alois, however, isn't going to the Velvet Room, nor is he announcing the beginning of the end. He's simply broadcasting a message is all. It's the same message each night since the twentieth of March.]
Hoheo taralna rondero tarel... Hoheo taralna rondero tarel... Hoheo taralna rondero tarel...
[It goes on for a half hour, at the same time each night before it suddenly cuts off and nothing fills the gear but silence.
But today, on the thirty-first of March, Alois decides to changes tactics. The broadcast is made in the early hours of the morning, his chant becoming more and more insistent. This time the video is on and Alois, though his eyes are half-cast and his complexion paler than usual, seems not yet defeated. He was not going to stop until he got what he wanted. That much was obvious.]
Hoheo taralna rondero tarel. Hoheo taralna rondero tarel. Hoheo taralna rondero tarel. Hoheo taralna rondero tarel. Hoheo taralna rondero tarel. Hoheo taralna rondero tarel! Hoheo taralna rondero tarel! Hoheo taralna rondero tarel!!
[His voice reaches a feverish pitch before dying altogether. He breathes deeply, steadies himself, and waits with a patience that doesn't seem to be of his own choosing.]
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