Sigurður "Sigur" Gunnarsson
Santalune City Pokémon Center
Party:
(Bál)
After having finally gotten a chance to open his mouth and tell everyone the hell off, Sigur
very much expected things to calm down. After all, he'd already been attacked by two different Pokémon, gotten flirted with by some chick that may or may not have
murdered people at some point in her life,
and gotten himself 'saved' by a chick that looked like she was related to the goddamn Grim Reaper himself. His quota for weird
shit
must've been filled for the day, right?
Right?
Yeah. As if he'd been that fu
cking lucky; Sigur had barely had the time to push himself to stand when the tall chick that was apparently allergic to every fu
cking color but black just... completely
snapped. Before Sigur could properly register the words that left her lips, she'd already crossed the short distance between them and, apparently realizing that she sucked at coming up with verbal retorts, figured that
punching him the goddamn face was a sound alternative.
Obviously. Because nothing screamed 'I totally grew up past the age of five' like throwing a temper tantrum and getting physical for
shit someone
said.
A fact that Sigur probably
would have voiced, if he wasn't too busy yelping in pain and falling right back down on his a
ss instead. But you know, that was cool. The floor was cool. He totally didn't mind rubbing his a
ss all over it multiple times a day or anything.
Note to self: if someone looks like a thug, acts like a thug and speaks like a thug, they're probably a thug and it'd probably be best to cuss them out from a safe distance - or from behind a brick wall.
And
then, before Sigur managed to do anything but make sure his jaw was still intact (it was, thank god), someone suddenly grabbed his arm and pulled him up to stand again. Flinching from the sudden touch right after being socked, the blond spent the first half a minute of the interaction pretty much trying to process who this person was and what the hell had he done to
her, until he realized that she wasn't here to maim him. No, see, this chick was totally different from the one before; while the previous one had nearly killed him with violence, this one almost choked him with
concern instead. Oh, but both chicks were tall, though. Because
of course they fu
cking were. It's not like his ego had suffered enough today, now he had to be helped up by a girl that towered over him too. Life was beautiful.
Still, she was pretty efficient in getting the nurse's attention and demanding treatment for him, which, okay, Sigur
didn't really mind. Because between his bitten leg and punched jaw, he was actually in
pain, and ready to swallow what little he had left of his pride to allow himself to be patched up. So, yes, for once, he didn't object to what she was doing.
"Or you can give me some antiseptic, clean cloth and bandages so I can do it myself, somebody you have no idea if they have any medical experience, if
at all."
At least, not until that line. Ooooh,
hell no, he wasn't about to lose his damn leg because some random good Samaritan wanted to play mind games with the nurse, and he let that show by attempting to pull himself away from her - to no avail, of course, because what little strength he had in his good leg was entirely used up on just trying to stay standing.
Luckily, the nurse did seem to actually agree with his sentiment for once, seeing as she soon disappeared to go fetch whatever
shit was needed - albeit begrudgingly. Well, fu
ck you too, nurse Joy.
A moment later Sigur found himself sitting on the couch, his leg all wrapped up, a cold bag pressed to his jaw and his mood sour.
"You feel any better? I can get some painkillers if you want if it hurts badly."
"No thanks, mom," Sigur groaned without a moment's hesitation, although he instantly winced as he did. Talking hurt his jaw, and his voice came out in a strange kind of mumble due to the large ice pack held to his face. Still, his tone was frustrated and sarcastic as ever, even if, for the time being, it wasn't as sharp as usual. "I think I've dealt with enough killers for one day."
... Okay, that was bad. See, even his
wit had gone all sour and shitty. This goddamn day was slowly destroying him. Or maybe the black-clad chick from earlier had infected him with dry-retort-icitis. Ew.
"Oh, and just so you know, I don't owe you
shit for this," he added all of a sudden, each word coming out with great perceivable effort. His tone was a bit calmer, but whether it reflected his mood or was merely a consequence of the pain was unclear. "I didn't
ask to be helped, so if you want money or something, go kiss up to
those guys."
Sigur nodded towards the pink dude and the scary chick from earlier, only to notice that a) some new dude had joined their merry band of weird fu
cks and managed to use food to bribe Bál, b) the flamboyant dude had actually gotten Bál inside a Pokéball while she was distracted (oh, so, wait, THAT was what those spheres were for?!) and c) ... the scary goddamn chick was headed
right his way. Oh, holy s
hit, who'd he need to sell his soul to in order to get rid of her?!
"I am so sorry about earlier."
I fuckin' bet, Sigur bemoaned inwardly, his eyes narrowing as she got closer and closer, practically telling him that she could have ended the whole freaking chaos before it even began with her Gastly. But, you know, she just
hadn't. Because she was a goddamn
sadist.
"I get you don't wanna go hat shopping, but would you care to join me for a visit to the local Cafè later? I Would just love to get to know you more."
Sigur
was about to answer. He really was. It wasn't going to be a very nice answer, as his usually weren't, but an answer nonetheless. Only, before he could so much as start to think of the wittiest way to turn down a blooming psychopath, something
else happened - something that was arguably worse than a date with this nutjob.
The other blond dude walked up to him with Bál's Pokéball in hand and, after spouting some nonsense that flew right over Sigur's pounding head,
fucking smooched him.
And so
suddenly, the fact that Sigur had just grabbed a ball the other had offered him felt about a
million times dirtier than it was supposed to. As
did his cheek, by the way.
Hell.
No. That was quite frankly the very final straw.
He absolutely hated every fu
cking thing in existence. Ever.
And he really needed some rest.
A fact he realized the second he bolted up from his seat to yell at the other blond - only to find out that he'd gotten up waaay too fast considering the amount of blood he'd lost from his leg already. Luckily, the nurse seemed to notice the color quickly draining from his face and swiftly dragged him to the backroom before he could pass out and fall onto the floor
again.
Santalune City, sometime later
Outside the Pokémon Center -> Hat Store
... In retrospect, letting Bál her out of her Pokéball again was probably
not a very good idea. Then again, it's not like Sigur had been given much of a choice; ever since the nurse had deemed him 'well enough' to walk again and practically kicked him out of the Pokémon Center, Bál had been hellbent on being let out of her ball, to the point that he'd needed to keep
squeezing the goddamn thing shut to keep her from escaping. And since there was only so much ball squeezing a guy could bear to do before he realized what his life had come to, she had eventually triumphed and he'd let her out to free his hands for holding a map instead.
Not that holding it helped much; he still had absolutely no idea where to go, and even if he'd had a definite route in mind, he would've gotten lost trying to pry Bál off of every other stranger they came across, anyway. Apparently, the little
shit hadn't taken losing all that well, and was now determined to try and sharpen her fangs on
absolutely everything that moved to make up for her failure.
So, yeah. This had... been his glorious debut to the Pokémon training scene. A wonderful start to a fu
cki
ng wonderful journey. Really, if what had just happened a while ago was any indication of things about to come, Sigur was fairly sure he needed to reconsider his career path - and
quick. Maybe something less dangerous would work, like, oh,
hell, a firefighter, a professional bungee jumper (rope optional), or a legendary hunter or
anything else in the whole fucking world? He'd rather be fishing
Carvanha with his bare appendixes than go through what he just had again. It's not like he'd feel the bites anyway; Bál had made sure he'd grown a freaking thick skin when it came to being bitten. Because you know, she was
nice like that.
Speaking of nice, what the hell had been up with all the people wanting to
help him today? Had some fu
ck plastered a plate saying "The Woobie" on him when he wasn't looking? Grumbling profanities to himself, the blond ran a hand through his hair - and subconsciously checked his forehead for any writing while he was at it, just in case - as he rounded a yet another corner, nose still buried in the map.
Okay, so according to the map meant for beginning trainers, he was supposed to visit a gym or something. Which, if you asked him, was stupid as hell; why would you need to get ripped if you had monsters with superpowers to do stuff for you? Tch, well, whatever, it's not like he had any other clue as to where to--
"Grrrrbleh!"
Almost hitting a tactically placed signpost, Sigur tore his gaze from the map the second he heard his starter's cry. He knew that tone, and it wasn't a pleasant one; it meant that she was out for
blood. You know. More thaN usual.
It didn't take Sigur long to spin around and notice the Gible running back the way they'd just come from. At first, he thought she was running back into the Pokémon Center for some reason, but then she suddenly took a sharp turn to the left, towards the open door of a mearby
hat store.
"Really, Bál, freaking
really? A hat store?
Now you discover your feminine side!?" Sigur groaned in frustration as he kicked himself into a limping run after the dragon. "Get the hell ba -
tch, oww..- ck here! Hey!"
Nope, she wasn't listening. Not like he'd
expected anything less from evil incarnate but hey, a guy had to
try. Unfortunately, considering how fast the little bugger was and how slow Sigur had been rendered due to his injured leg, there was absolutely no way he could've caught up with Bál before she had already stormed right into the store. And so, Sigur had little choice but to follow suit, angry and confused as he barged in after her.
"Bál!" he shouted once more, sharp eyes scanning the floor for a familiar blue blob, but to no avail. Ugh, fine, then plan b it was. Digging into his bag, Sigur pulled out her Pokéball and held it out in front of him. This... had been what the pink dude had done too, right? Just... held the thing, and then somehow, she'd returned inside it? Uh.
Determined to get his plan to work, Sigur swung the ball around in the air a few times, gaining quite a few looks from the customers that nearly got slammed in the face during his flailing, until a familiar red beam finally shot out from the sphere. Grinning victoriously, Sigur allowed his gaze to follow the beam of energy to the other side of the store where Bál was just dematerializing into a mass of energy herself. "Ha!" Sigur rejoiced, raising his gaze from the floor to the two humans Bál had been threatening before his timely intervention.
"Gotcha, you little bi-...i.." Sigur's mouth was still open, but he had trouble forming any more coherent words as he realized exactly
who Bál had been bothering. "...i...t.. ch
shit."
All of a sudden, Sigur had a really violent urge to go try that bungee jumping without a rope thing.