You Tried [Open]

[Hart]

Staghorn is dank, Stagorn is dark, and Schuyler does not like it. There is an eerie silence to the dense knot of trees, one seemingly broken only by the ungraceful footfalls of both man and pokemon; at the trainer’s heels prances an overly excited and all too pleased arcanine, tongue lolling from its mouth and tail wagging brightly. Only the former of the pair seems to have any issue with their surroundings, with the encompassing quiet and the pervasive shade, and it is a frustration taken out in snapped twigs and muttered curses.

Because, to reiterate, this forest is horrible. It’s all weedles and caterpies and goddamn metapods (really, metapod, really, why do you exist). The one sawsbuck he’d run into (”Badass!”) had fallen over when Marble breathed on it a little too hard. Well, the arcanine had chewed on him a bit first, too – maybe shot some fire on those fancy antlers – but still. Sky hadn’t even had time to grab a pokeball before the damn thing collapsed from fright (and, you know, burning). It doesn’t make any sense that you can’t catch them after they’ve fainted as it is. It’s supposed to be easier when they’re paralyzed, or asleep, or if you poison them first, but knocked out? No way, José. That is a fine line that cannot be crossed.

And Sky knows. He’d tested it, once, and does not recommend trying it, unless you really like having a pissed wild stunky trying to chew your hand off.

He had been tempted to put Marble away following the botched sawsbuck incident, but the giant dopey canine is a source of comfort (one he does not admit to) in the depths of Staghorn. So long as the dumb animal isn’t making any attempts to burn down the trees around them – no matter how tempting it is to torch the whole thing and reach civilization faster – he can stay, trotting beside Sky in a manner only the blissfully ignorant can manage. The arcanine’s nose is covered in dirt, and he pauses every few strides to shove his snout in some new and interesting selection of soil; it is an act that Schuyler pointedly pays no attention to, committed to navigating the undergrowth.

It is a dedication that is entirely in vain. Despite the trainer’s keen eye, and the hand he braces against a tree to navigate over a particularly monstrous root (where had the path gone, anyhow?), the ground and rocks beneath his foot give way in a torrent and Schuyler is sent sprawling. The situation is worsened when the worried Marble leaps into action and lands – hard – beside him, and the weakened hillside they are perched upon decides to give up the ghost.

Trainer and pokemon go tumbling in a cloud of dirt and pebbles, and it is with a slew of profanity and a wailing howl of confusion that the two descend to the bottom of the hill – and are spat out, bruised more in spirit than in body, beside the very trail they had lost.

”Goddamnit.”

[Cheyril]

The dark forest of Staghorn, a place of which Johnson had never considered once stepping foot on the lands of. That was, until today. It was a sort of challenge he had set himself: go there and traverse through its wilderness. Maybe, possibly, it was supposed to be a game to him; he wasn't entirely sure himself. Now, being in the company of Pokémon was definitely better than going it alone, but there was, of course, a couple of setbacks. One, having a Meinfoo perch on your head. Two, watching as your Zorua and Sneasel bicker back and forth in their incomprehensible language. Three, getting hit by tree debris as your Feraligator attempts to make headway for the group.

"We're not really getting anywhere with this are we?" John asked aloud, glancing to the trees that enclosed each side of them. "... Maybe I should just return you to your Pokéball, Zero." A rumbling growl came back in response. "... Okay, fine, have your own way, but just to let you know - I think we're lost."

That caused a simultaneous reaction from all four of the Pokémon. Insidious and Richard both turned, at the same time, to look back at John, whilst Zero snorted and Alexandra shifted slightly on her perch, her fore-paws dangling over Johnson's face. "Yeah, thanks." John pushed said paws away, his brows furrowing a moment in a frown. "I'm starting to think it wasn't such a good idea coming here. I mean, come on! There's barely anything of interest around here, besides the multitude of bugs. What was I expecting, something to come tumbling out of the sky?"

As if in answer to his question a Caterpie plopped onto Alexandra's head. She shrieked and tumbled off of Johnson's back, running around like a headless Torchic before dashing away between the nearest set of trees, her fore-paws waving comically in the air. The Trainer stared after the Meinfoo for a moment blinking, until the situation suddenly caught up with him. "Oh Arce-" he exclaimed, leaving the sentence unfinished as he burst into a sprint after the fighting-type. Zero itched at his back and followed at a lumbering pace. In contrast, Insidious and Richard hurried to catch up to their human friend, their argument left far behind them.

It wasn't easy chasing after a one and half foot tall Meinfoo, although the constant shrieking helped. It took a good quarter of an hour to come within touching distance of the lady Pokémon and even then John had to keep picking up speed in order to keep that exact distance. Panting, he had a sudden epiphany and leaped at Alex. Miraculously, he managed to grab her and dislodge the Caterpie simultaneously. However he ended up with a big mouthful of mud in return for his lifesaving deed. That was about the same time he heard an uncomfortable heap of profanity and a wailing howl, which was soon followed up by a scattering of pebbles and a voice, ”Goddamnit.”

Johnson was quick to scramble up into his most casual stance, his hands clasped around the uncomfortable looking Ms.Troubadour. "Uh, hi...?" he managed, before he was rudely interrupted by the tramping feet of Zero's and the pattering appearance of Insidious and Richard. He stopped, cleared his throat and tried again, "Do you need any help there?"

[Hart]

Getting lost is bad. Falling down a muddy hillside is worse. Doing it in the sight of another human being – much less a fellow trainer – and coming to his senses surrounded by strange pokemon is just the highlight of Schuyler’s day. Marble shuts up as soon as the ground solidifies beneath them, and Sky takes the arcanine’s hint by clapping his mouth closed and ceasing his furious muttering. Instead, he sits up with a start, pressing one thin arm into the arcanine’s chest to hold the animal back. Marble, to his credit, is simply sprawled out with legs in every direction, staring at Johnson with his tongue lolling; if there is a vicious bone in the animal’s body, it certainly doesn’t show. The trainer simply juts out his lower jaw and fixes Johnson with a suspicious and hard green-eyed stare, wary.

”Hi,” he responds curtly, with the air of a man who is unfamiliar with casual conversation and pleasantries. Sky is unused to random acts of kindness – least of all in strangers – and does not exactly expect that this unknown individual is doing something altruistic. The question is, then what is Johnson playing at? And Schuyler doesn’t know if he cares enough to lurk around and find out. Better to brush himself off, pretend he did not just slide on his ass down a hill in front of some other guy, and stalk off with his usual aura of lurking disgust.

”—No,”” Sky adds, clutching at the arcanine’s mane to haul himself as gracefully as possible (read: clumsily) to his own feet. ”No, I’m good, I just… got a little lost.” The goddamn Pokedex that crazy professor had given him was supposed to have maps in it, wasn’t it? He should probably get the stupid thing looked at, if he could ever find a town. Which he couldn’t without the maps. Which… y’know what, that train of thought is just never going to end well. Sky brushes off his dirt-caked pants with some modicum of dignity, and drops his eyes to pointedly avoid looking at the other boy while he does so.

Marble, of course, chooses to be a helper by flopping to his side before rolling about on his back, kicking up plumes of dust and forest debris as he does so.

”Stupid dog,” he spits, expressing a lifetime of exasperation in a single phrase. Schuyler shoves at the animal until the arcanine whines and rises to his feet, and when he turns to address Johnson once more, the pokemon places his large snout on his shoulder, panting into his ear. Schuyler seems content to absolutely ignore him.

”You look like you’ve got a nice team.” Compliments do not come easily, but pokemon are one of the few things he is able to discuss with other human beings on a level of genuine interest. ”…Do you know how to get to the nearest town? It’s supposed to be in this forest somewhere, but,” but technology is horrible and I can’t read maps, he should say, but he cuts himself off instead. Admitting he’s lost is bad enough, but he doesn’t need to elaborate while asking for directions. ”Well. I can’t find it, is all. I’m Schuyler, by the way.” The trainer holds out his hand stiffly and without a smile, expectant.

Good at making friends, A+ job, slow clap.

[Cheyril]

It took a moment for John to realize that the panicked howling he'd heard earlier had come from none other than the panting Arcanine that lay sprawled out without a care in the world, panting. That was around the same time as the owner of said Arcanine sat up and shot him a suspicious glare, which immediately made Johnson feel uncomfortable. Zero, seemingly sensing this, shuffled closer and hovered his great, big crocodilian head close to his human's shoulder. John edged a little to the left and shot the Feraligator a look. It wasn't any kind of look in particular, just, well, something to ensure the boy that the big lug wasn't going to try anything. He was unpredictable like that.

The curt response of the unknown man brought Johnson's attention back to the situation at hand. He watched as the fellow Trainer pulled himself to his feet; albeit clumsily, with the help of his Arcanine's large form. When he mentioned being lost, Johnson was about to add his own similar predicament, when the fire-dog picked that exact time to decide to have a dirt-bath, coating his owner with the same leftover debris as what he'd tried to remove a few seconds ago.

In return the man shoved and growled mediocre verbal abuse at his Arcanine, forcing it to rise, with a whine, to its feet. It took an awful lot of willpower for John not to grin at what his Pokémon did next. Placing its big snout on his shoulder, it began to pant and drool very close to its Trainer's ear. "Uh, thanks," Johnson replied, hitching Alexandra to the right side of his body. She gave him a grumpy look, then proceeded to dig her paws into his hair in an attempt to crawl back onto his head. "Ah, no; I'd prefer you didn't." She was gently dropped onto the floor. Moments later, she stubbornly climbed up his trouser leg and onto his arm, where she somehow made a perfect leap from there to her previous perch. That was about the same time where Johnson decided to give up. There was no point in shifting Ms. Troubadour when she was in this kind of mood.

Cue running a hand through his dark hair as the question sunk in. "Uh, no. My... chase through half the forest has made sure of that." Great work on keeping an eye on where you were going, idiot, he mentally berated himself. I am definitely not going to add a Caterpie to my catch-list anytime soon... "We could always try to find the way back together? I don't think I'll be returning to this place anytime soon." The proffered hand and introduction were by no means friendly, but Johnson tried his best not to let it worry him (though it was bringing back that uncomfortable feeling). Instead he stepped forward and took Schuyler's hand and shook it, with the best smile he could manage. "Johnson."

Insidious was getting bored in the meantime. He'd decided to try and get on Richard's nerves again by nudging him viciously. It only succeeded in a huff from the weasel and a show of his back. Pouting, the Zorua nipped his leg and trotted closer to Marble and Schuyler. He proceeded to casually sniff about close to them, his fluffy tail wiggling about in the air. Pretending he was doing nothing more than following after an interesting scent.

[kraine]

The dark, looming forest teemed with life. The ground crawled, the canopy buzzed, and creatures hung like generously-thrown tinsel from every possible perch. Mosses coated the ground, rendering the terrain squishy and damp. Sunbeams streamed from canopy gaps, illuminating the red hardwoods and setting the forest ablaze with solar brilliance. Yet none of this, nothing at all, could make Adder less uncomfortable. He read about the forest, he learned about the forest, but nothing could prepare him for this. Something about a lifetime of city living does not train a guy for this kind of wilderness.

The trainer picked his way over the rocks with hesitation, often glancing sideways at his small, plucky companion. Twenty feet to his left, a diminutive cubone was hopping from rock to rock, turning some over, ripping up moss, digging holes, and picking bark off trees with reckless abandon. It was about five hours ago that Adder was able to coax her out of the hole she disappeared into outside of the Clover Lab. Since then, they walked side-by-side (more accurately, walked parallel 20 feet away, by order of the pokemon) and wandered wherever whim took them. Every time Adder tried to approach the cubone, she assumed a threatened pose and kicked up a lot more stones and dirt clumps than Adder wanted to deal with. Ever stalwart, however, the trainer committed himself to having his companion out of her pokeball. Nothing about their relationship would change if he kept her in the dark. He hoped- prayed- that she would warm up to him someday.

“You know, I have some food for you.” Hopeful, Adder pulled some berries out of his backpack and held one up for the pokemon to see. The cubone stopped rooting in the dirt and squinted at her trainer. She then clacked her scaly paws together, palms to the sky, gesturing for Adder to toss her the berries. The boy sighed, chucked a few in her direction (she inhaled them immediately), and resumed his march.

With every step, the forest grew quieter and more ominous. The sunbeams were scarce here in the depths of the wood. To Adder’s surprise, his cubone began to walk ever so slightly closer. He smirked when he realized she must be getting scared. Hah! There’s nothing that could really- WHAP! An unidentified vine smacked Adder on the shoulder. Panicked, he flung his arms around with a surprisingly high-pitched yelp and swatted at the vine. Not knowing what was happening and not caring, he bolted into the trees, tripping multiple times over roots and making a lot more noise than he meant to.

He came to a panting stop at a large tree, which he gripped with shaking fingers. Once collected, he looked down to see the cubone latched onto his leg in terror, breathing fast. Adder let out his own breath, and it turned into a chuckle at his own ridiculousness. He squatted down (the cubone remained rigid, staring in the direction of the spook) and softly stroked the pokemon’s back. “Hey, it’s alright. Shh.. It was just some pokemon playing with us. We’ll be fine. You could probably take it if you wanted.” The cubone’s panting calmed, and she looked up at her trainer.

In the same moment, both trainer and pokemon were distracted by voices nearby. To Adder, this was a way out of this unfamiliar place. He gave the cubone a pat and stood up to find the strangers. They stood not far away, flanked by a host of strong-looking pokemon. They must know where they’re going, Adder assumed. He jogged up to them, companion in tow, and waved.

“Hey, are you guys heading out of Staghorn? We gotta get out of this place.” He indicated his little cubone, who now lurked much closer to Adder than she had before.