Ch 7: Wind was blowing, time stood still
It was… quite warm out. Because of the soup and the fact it was now midday, obviously. Also the exertion. She had hoped the Ravaged Path would account for most of the elevation but nope! It actually came out right in the middle of a steep hillside. So steep, in fact, that she quickly ran into another fucking set of stairs to make it easier to climb! Well, wasn't that just so fucking convenient. The only small mercy was that there was a small trail off to the side, labelled Scenic Switchback, so she could at least struggle up that.
Let no one one say it wasn't a struggle either. To traverse a physical rise of what was probably less than 10 meters took… longer than it should, wasn't like she owned a watch or Dex or anything. The sun visibly moved in the sky, that was proof enough.
Hailey almost never perspired, even when she was boiling, but she did shake, for all kinds of reasons. Exertion, like right now, with what anyone else would struggle to even call light exercise, so she'd always told herself. Cold, heat, reactions to some of her earlier medications, sometimes just cause. It always seemed to her that this sack of skin and bones resented being under the control of the brain, so they yanked it away whenever they could.
Sad thing was, it used to be much worse. Up until 20th birthday her bed had been more of a prison crib. High padded bumpers on each side, so that there was no way she could roll out, sensor rigged to an alarm stuck on her chest so that she probably wouldn't suffocate if she flopped onto her stomach.
This whole trip was thus just force of will vs her limits. Would have been easier if she could have distracted her mind with something, but there weren't many options. What was there to reminisce over? She'd burned through a lifetimes worth of imagination trying to stay sane in her seclusion and restriction. Her destination? She'd gone over it so many times it was like a pair of shoes with the soles worn through.
The only interesting thing that had happened in months was getting stuck in the Ravaged Path but that wasn't appealing either. She'd rather not think about getting stuck, her helplessness, or the pair that found her.
She felt bad about scooting out on Brigit and Thảo. Without them she'd still be stuck in the dark, yelling to try and get the Zubat to do something. Being pushed around was humiliating, but that lunch… She hadn't said thanks or goodbye at all really, and that stung, but also, there was, you know…
The sex.
It really was inescapable. The newscasters were constantly throwing innuendo at each other, every second ad on the tv seemed to be for some product or experience to boost intimacy with your partner, the channels she could only get previews of that showed actual gym and tournament "fights", and of course people sneaking off for quickies in the hospital. That had nearly killed her a few times, there was a reason they'd stopped assigning her Pokémon nurses for years until Carita, at least she could be trusted to remember Hailey existed.
Even her books, mostly written for girls 12 and under had constantly informed her that girls her age were non-stop thinking about their crushes, and future partners, as well as hinting at various “things” in fade to black scenes. Just another thing to alienate her from her own reality.
As she'd fully entered her teens she had eventually decided she was asexual. It was rare, but it did happen. There had been this one Diance she'd seen an interview with once that was really wonderful, and she still liked her actually, just seemed like a nice Mon. For a while her daydreams had turned to the fantasy that she could find others like her, they could be friends, found their own little society, tell stories different from what the mainstream was pushing.
It had been so hard to let go of, but she remembered exactly when it had happened. Hailey had been 22, the start of her "miraculous" upswing. Seizures were down, coughing and other lung related fits were lowering week over week, she was even putting on a little weight. A lot of praise went to Carita, who had recently been made her primary care physician, after she'd proved she could actually keep her focus on the little waif. Who knew, they'd said then, maybe she'd be able to move into an assisted living home, perhaps even walk with support someday.
Yeah, someday, sure.
The upward curve flattened out pretty quick, but for a while there'd been hope. It was winter at the time and JTV was doing their usual local colour pieces. This time someone had set up this massive ski jump downtown, five stories tall, and folks came from all over to put on a show. Would have been nice to go see it, but Carita didn't trust her to endure the cold, so watching was once again all she could do.
There had been tricks, wipeouts, competition, even fireworks, but it was one skier that had really captured her.
An Absol, of course it was a Absol. The ticker under the shot had said her name was Silver and she was clearly born for the snow. Not just in the way she moved, the way she jumped, the spins and twirls.
No, it was cause she was basically buck ass naked.
Paws strapped into what had to be custom made boots, toque on the head, and a scarf, with only a shiny gold bikini to cover up the fur she'd been born with. She didn't hold a candle to someone like Thảo in the thick department, but you couldn't not bounce when you were flipping, especially in the slow mo shots. How did that thing even stay on?
That's when she knew, when she had found herself hoping that there would be a wardrobe malfunction.
It was a painful thing, when you had so little life experience to base a personality around, to see part of it pulled away. She'd never told any of the doctors, she couldn't bear to, but the ample medical texts that were around provides the likely answer. It was well known that illness, especially chronic ones, could suppress the libido, hell she'd found more than one self help book trying to counsel Pokémon with sick partners that their humans didn't hate them, they just needed to get better. Her health had gotten just better enough to torture her with something new.
It wasn't consistent, it came in fits and starts, and she never knew what to do about it. The nerves below the belt almost never responded to anything and she sure as hell wasn't going to ask anyone else for any tips. Let them think she still felt nothing and just endure the heat, the burning that would sometimes rise up.
Sticking with Brigit and Thảo was just not an option for so many reasons. She'd have to keep lying, she'd feel like a third wheel, she'd feel pathetic. Leaving was really the only option.
That's what she thought as she finally rolled to the top of the slope, the tips of wind turbines just visible over the trees in the distance.
Huh, looked like thinking did distract her.
Rolling up on Floroma felt like it should have been more momentous than it was. The dirt trail abruptly changed to cobbled stone (which made the chair rattle like hell) as a sign welcomed those on the nature trail to The Town that Smells Vividly of Flowers. Sure she'd technically been in places other than Jubilife, but that was infant years stuff. From what they told her there had originally been a lot of travelling to and from Hearthhome city in the first few months, before her mother surrendered her to the state. Yeah, Imedla and her didn't exactly talk much. She lived somewhere in Johto now. At the end of the day, they'd both just wanted to escape.
Anyway, Floroma certainly was working to live up to its name, flowers bursting out of boxes and planters everywhere, a riot of colour compared to rather understated buildings. Certainly nice, but the town wasn't actually what she was here for. It would be Golden Hour soon, she had to go north.
Still, you couldn't help taking in some of a new place. The whole area just had a relaxed atmosphere, maybe it was the scents. Ladies moved slow as they sashayed down the boulevard, grass types napped on stone walls and up against trees, occasionally opening a sleepy eye to wink at a passerby. The only ones in a hurry were the numerous Combee she spotted twirling overhead, always industrious. Floroma was supposed to be home to the biggest hive in Sinnoh, either they were secretly just as calm as everyone else, or the Rangers were more on the button than the atmosphere would suggest.
The Center was one of the few buildings in town that really stood out, instead of trying to blend in with the greenery. The front and west side was a great thing of wrought iron and glass, pretty obvious they were going for a greenhouse theme. It did give a good view in though, causing Hailey to slow her place (and not at all because all the shaking from the cobblestones were making her whole body ache).
It felt trite to keep thinking about it, but Pokémon Centers were just another very common facet of daily life that were alien to her. Kids hung around outside till they were shooed away, hoping to catch a glimpse of the adult world. Teens gossipped about what they'd do once they could get in without getting carded. New adults often stopped there first thing to pick up last minute tips and supplies before heading out into the great wide world, and almost exactly as often were carried back there by sympathetic but snickering nurses less than a week later. Others went there for dates, hell, she could see some of them right now, there in the glass. A vibrant blue and yellow bird was preening over their date, fussing with her hair while a little plate of pastries went uneaten. And for travellers they were a consistent hostel, in and out, leaving the cleaning staff to curse them.
They had nothing for her.
Even the rooms were false. They may have been free over the short term, but you needed ID, usually a Dex, to reserve one. Plus, any nurse worth her candy stripes would take one look at her and immediately start phoning every clinic in the area to see who had wandered off.
A centre wasn't what she was here for, but it was so, so close now.
Hands back on the wheels, shoulders unpleasantly burning, she rolled north.
It was probably around six or seven-ish by the time the signs actually came in view. Despite the fact that she didn't usually eat much, and the unexpected lunch earlier, the pangs were still hitting her from exertion. She ignored them. What did they matter, so close to her goal?
A brightly painted wood sign loudly proclaimed that you were entering the Floroma Meadows, just down a scenic path flanked by immaculately trimmed hedges. A cultural heritage site and often voted the most beautiful location in Sinnoh, it wasn't a surprise there was a crowd in the area. The annoying thing was that she had to fight the tide. Most people were heading back from the Meadows to grab dinner in town. Talking, giggling, caressing, and in no mood to get their foot run over by an annoyed looking figure in a wheelchair.
There was some small amusement in seeing who was joining her against wave though. A towering Torterra in muddy overalls (and just overalls) with a rake slung over her shoulder and a full bucket of tools hanging from it. A couple of Combee, exhausted for "some" reason and clearly playfully ribbing each other. A woman lugging tripods and camera equipment, Hailey chose to think that great minds thought alike.
Finally the crowd thinned, right near the apex of the path, right before it opened up.
It took her breath away.
She'd honestly hoped it would, even as her nature whispered it wouldn't.
A sea of fire stretched out before her, dotted in islands of green and blue. So many of them together that the flowers didn't look real, they flowed and blew more like some great organism then thousands of individual plants. All accentuated by the slowly setting summer sun to the west. In its rays the fields positively shimmered, even small hills cast long shadows that painted the scene. It was with shaking hands that she reached down into a bag and grasped the cheep plastic of the disposable camera. 27 shots.
Enduring proof that she actually made it.
They weren't anything special, objectively, not just because of the camera, but also a lack of skill. Framing was poor, so were the angles, especially with the added difficulties with manoeuvring, a bunch would probably be almost ruined by to much direct sun.
Didn't matter, this euphoria, to be somewhere new, somewhere she chose, doing something just for her, was intoxicating.
A single flower, a whole field, a couple walking in the distance, all had taken on a magical quality. She wanted to take a aeon with each one, but the sun wouldn't cooperate forever. The Torterra from earlier was in the distance, raising a hoe above her head, click. A moment later she was leaning on it, wiping her brow, click. A flock of Starly were flying overhead, not hunting, just enjoying a radiant summer evening, the joy of flight, click.
It was frightening, the world was big, too big now, and she had too little film. The river in the distance, a small cottage on the edge of the forest, a strangely knotted root. She'd found herself at the base of that lone tree, up on a rise. A small path had led here, a simple wooden bench beside the old thing, clearly a popular spot. It wasn't hard to see why. Here, at the edge of night, almost no one in sight, it really did feel like an island at sea, at least, she thought it might have been.
There was one picture left according to the little mechanical counter on the top, and one thing she'd been consciously avoiding. Of all the pictures, not a single one had her in it. After all, she'd thought when she planned this all out weeks and months ago, didn't she want to capture beautiful things? She had, and without her meaning for it, had some of that magnificence had seeped into her?
It wouldn't be easy to take, wasn't like the Elekid-27 had a screen you could pop out and turn around. Did it really matter though? It was going to look terrible just for having her in it. All that mattered is that it existed, as proof.
It would show sallow, cracked skin. Hollow, sunken brown eyes the colour of mud. Stringy, splitting brown hair that broke when you tried to run a brush through it. Emaciated, fragile limbs that showed bones like a shrink wrapped skeleton. An old, threadbare purple sweater, it’s graphic long since rubbed off. Then, a old, romantically bent and gnarled tree. Flowers of a dozen hues behind. The burning orange sun sinking down under the treeline.
Click