Victory Road Inbox

[notvaljean]

Hi, this is Jean... [loud crackling in the background, the sound of sighing] ... and Blitz. We're busy right now and can't answer, so leave a message and we'll get back to you.

Comments

[schachmeister]

Well, no, not exactly.

[Like. He thinks little kids and their first pokemon are sort of cute? From a distance? He just isn't really the best at knowing how to interact with them beyond a few minutes.]

I just feel bad taking their money. It's their pocket change, after all. And they really don't know what they are doing.

[notvaljean]

Eh, they have moms and dads to give them more.

[Jean starts whipping the eggs together, and that occupies his attention for a few seconds.]

Besides, it's not like I encourage him to do that, or seek out little kids to beat up on. He does it by himself.

[schachmeister]

No, you are not that shifty.

[Not shifty enough to purposely push Blitz in beating up little kids, at least.]

I really don't blame you, it just... still feels a bit like bullying to me.

[And that leaves a bad taste in his mouth.]

[notvaljean]

Well, when we're on the islands, there aren't any around, so he just bullies wild Pokemon. Which keeps them out of my garden, and that's fine by me.

[schachmeister]

Your garden? Are you starting a garden? I thought that was Blume's.

[Armin gives Jean a critical look. He just... doesn't really seem like the gardening type. Armin has never caught him having an interest in plants before.]

[notvaljean]

I'm helping her with it now.

[Jean has his back to Armin, and he can't help the way it goes stiff, or how his voice gets a little tight.]

It, uh... I had a dream, during that time with the nightmares, and... yeah.

[And he's into gardening now. Don't question it.]

[schachmeister]

[From his position, with his clear view of Jean's back, it is impossible to miss how it tenses. Or how his voice tightens.]

You don't have to justify your decisions to me. If this is what you want to do then that is fine. It just... surprised me a little, that's all.

[notvaljean]

I dreamed about roses.

[Armin just said he doesn't have to justify his new interest, and yet here Jean is, telling him about it.]

I dreamed about Trost, and Marco turning into flowers.

[schachmeister]

[Telling people personal things even when you don't need to is probably some sort of weird friendship thing.

Armin's lips form a silent oh, and for a moment, he is lost for words. Because really, what do you say to that. A 'sorry' doesn't really seem to hold any value. It is not like Jean doesn't already know he feels sorry about Marco dying.

Eventually, he settles on:]

There are a lot of different kind of roses. There might be some kinds that really do well growing by the ocean. There is probably a book on that sort of thing in the library.

[notvaljean]

[Yes, Armin. It's a friendship thing.]

[That is exactly the right thing to say, and the look Jean gives Armin over his shoulder is both grateful and just the tiniest bit watery.]

Would you help me look for the right kinds?

[Jean could figure it out on his own, but Armin can probably do it faster.]

[schachmeister]

[Jeez, Jean, your face. It's a little embarrassing.]

Of course. It'll probably be best to try and find something when we are back home. [because it has become home, hasn't it?] I can imagine a mountain town has a lot of books on keeping gardens near the ocean.

[notvaljean]

[Whatever, Armin, you like it and you know it. Look deep into your heart, you know it's true.]

Thank you.

[Jean turns back to the omelets, immensely cheered.]

There's no rush. I can't start until we're back there, anyway.

[schachmeister]

[If he looks deep, deep, deep into his heart, then yes, he has to admit he likes it. Ugh. Traitorous heart.]

No, I suppose that is true.

[Or is it? He could totally start writing up plans and looking up information and cross-referencing new information and and and... all of those other things that are not how Jean does things at all, so okay, there is nothing they can do until they get back.]