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With her head held high and the two badges on her lapel proudly displayed, Mela made her way through the corridors to get to the art room where she’d agreed to meet Atticus. They had been working on a project and wanted to show Mela before it was done to get some extra insight on it.
The soft smell of paint that clouded the art room that’d become enticingly familiar to Mela hit her in the face as she walked in and found her friend.
“Greetings my friend,” Atticus said, not breaking pace on their stitching.
“Hey Atticus,” Mela replied, finding her canvas and pulling on an apron.
“Pray tell, what doth thee bethink of mine entry to Sir Hassel’s pride gallery? Is it not truly splendid?" They queried, holding up the item in question. Mela took a moment to look at it.
It was a light silky dress, covered in ruffles of the same material. The top half was an off the shoulder box cut with layers of dark yellow ruffles fading into white as they met the waist. A few layers of organza in similar colours to the rest of the dress draped down to form bell sleeves. The waist had some white tulle ruffles sown above and below but not so many as to impede the ability to tie the pale green sash that adorned it. More ruffles in shades of blue adorned the skirt, getting darker as it fell to the floor. Mela could tell it wouldn’t quite be long enough to touch.
“Well yeah… But.. It’s pretty intense ain’t it? Lotta ruffles and probably quite bulky.. Though the colours and the fabric are good.”
“Aye. Though, t’is mine own creation and thus mine own wear. I shan't be changing it. Sans, of course, for finishing the seams. Thank’ee for thine input.”
“Course. Any time.”
The pair fell silent as they continued working. Atticus with their dress and Mela finishing the green water colouring section of her piece so she could move to some brighter acrylics and finish her entry to the Pride project Professor Hassel had organised.
The pair had been working on their projects since early-May and with Pride month drawing near, it was almost time for them to be displayed among the art of their fellow LGBT students and teachers. Despite the rest of the Team Star bosses also being bi/gay/lesbian/whatever Penny was, only the two aromantics of the group were partaking in the project though. Most likely due to a shared lack of romantic commitments and joint enjoyment for the creative arts.
The soft chatter from other students working on their projects created the perfect background ambiance for arting and for leaving them with their thoughts. Mela would occasionally hum a discordant note from a song that came into her head and Atticus would reply in turn with a following note. Most of the time it wasn’t the right note as Mela was rather cagey about the music she liked so Atticus didn’t know any but it didn’t stop them from slowly building a tune. Their musical musings were unfortunately interrupted as Hassel came over.
“Ah wonderful wonderful. You two are doing such great work. Mela, I see your painting is coming on quite nicely. This is your final one, right?”
“Yeah. This one’s going in between the other two.”
“I see I see. Well, keep working on it and I’m sure they’ll look lovely together.”
“Thanks sir.”
“And, Atticus, marvellous. Truly wondrous! Will you be wearing it for the project’s opening night?”
“Nay, for I wish to spend such time with mine closest friends. T’would be an honour but I must decline.”
Mela smiled at that, finding it easy to play the part of a grateful friend. In reality, she knew Atticus wasn’t fully comfortable being open about their identity. A fact that would cause their dress to be displayed alongside an anonymous plaque when the project eventually opened.
In truth, Mela also found it hard to be open about some things. Her art would be named and proudly displayed in the gallery but she hadn’t told her friends that she didn’t like being alone for whatever reason or that she loved collecting plushies and hated horror movies. Or that one of her favourite activities was getting milkshakes with Atticus when the rest of their friends were on dates (Or crying over failed ones in Ortega’s case.) Or that–
“Ah. A shame. I’ll have to procure some mannequins then since there are some other students who made clothes as well. I wonder where I can… do that. Hmm. Anyways, You might want to start wrapping up. You can take your projects for the weekend or I’ll see you in here on Monday. Okay?” Hassel replied, hand on his chin, thinking about where one could rent mannequins from.
The friends nodded and started gathering their things as Hassel moved onto another group. Mela moved her painting to the side of the room so it could dry and Atticus tied off their tread and packed everything into the portable sewing kit they carried around.
“Hey, do you wanna hang out this weekend? I’m running out of nail polish and want to get more from that place in Artazon. We could get milkshakes after?” Mela proposed as they left the art room and made for the dorm rooms.
“I concur, t’would be delightful. Say, I wish to practise mine nail art skills if thy would be mine willing model.”
“Yeah sure. I could do with an update.” Mela said, rubbing her thumb over her chipping polish.
“Excellent.”
Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding.
Atticus’s head snapped up as they looked for the source of the noise. They had been bent over another sewing project for the past hour an half so the buzzing was a welcome reminder to sit up and stretch.
“Hemlock, couldst thou…” The Muk immediately understood what his trainer was trying to say and passed them their phone.
11:12 from Mela
meet at the top of the stairs in 20?
dijiahjfewhnfejkd
srry bout that
flint got my phone
so yeah?
Atticus chuckled at that. Mela’s Houndoom Flint was well known within the team for causing trouble and being a bit of a nuisance. They replied, saying that was fine, before putting their work to the side and looking around.
“Ah, well I must take my leave if I am to be on time. Ergot, if thoust would.” The Skuntank stood up from where she had been sleeping on Atticus’ leg and hopped onto their bed to continue napping.
They pulled on their modified hoodie before recalling Revavroom and throwing some revives, potions, antidotes and snacks into a bag to take with them.
Mela was, as always, a few minutes late. She was wearing a tank top, a pair of custom painted flared jeans she had done a few months prior and a messenger bag with assorted pins and paint splotches on it. Most likely holding some water, snacks, potions, revives and burn heals if they knew Mela.
“Hey, you ready?”
“Mm.”
It was a relatively nice day and thus, a relatively nice walk to Artazon. Rookidee, Hoppip and Wattrel flew above as Tauros and Cyclizar ran alongside them. The pair didn’t speak much as they walked, choosing instead to enjoy the other’s company and the environment around them.
“We’re here~” Mela singsonged as they get to the shop. Nails, pails and paint was pretty much the one-stop shop for good quality art supplies and nail polish, which they also sold. The fire trainer beelined straight for the nail polish display but Atticus meandered around for a while, not having anything in mind they desperately needed. Perhaps some purple or blue nail polish and some more thread but that was about it. They wound up next to Mela as she debated over two shades of yellow.
“Hey, excuse me mister?” Atticus started, the voice having come from their blind side and being accompanied by a set of footsteps that Atticus had somehow not heard.
“Uh. Hm. Yes. Right. What doth thou desire?” They stammered, recovering from the shock.
“I just wanted to get to the nail polish you were standing in front of. Sorry for scaring you.” The boy, no older than 10, half mumbled as he looked around Atticus’s legs for the right colour.
“T’is quite alright,” Atticus assured the boy, bending to his level, “Thoust would make quite the ninja with those footsteps.”
“You think? Woah. Thanks!” He grabbed a bottle of nail polish from the shelf behind Atticus and scampered off.
“You good?” Mela asked, having heard the whole exchange. Atticus didn’t answer, instead pulling their hood up and arranging the added fabric poison drips they had added in front of their cloudy eye. Simultaneously a shield from the world and a barrier to their dysphoria. “That bad? I’m almost done. You still want milkshakes?”
“I-I think I would like to decline. Perhaps,” they cleared their throat, “perhaps another day.”
“No prob. You know I’m always down to hang.” Mela went back to browsing but paused as Atticus took hold of her hand. Neither of them remembered when or why they’d started holding hands but it made Atticus feel better and Mela didn’t really care. It only got annoying when people started to assume they were dating. Which happened more often that either of them would’ve liked.
“Aww, you two are so cute together..” The cashier cooed as Mela dropped six bottles of nail polish on the counter. Two shades of green, white, black, yellow and blue since Atticus had some pink she could use.
“We’re not dating,” she half snapped, keeping hold of her friend’s hand as she pulled out money to pay.
“Okaaayyy, right. Sorry.” The cashier apologised, confused at their continuing hand-holding and contradictory statement, as she scanned the items, “Have a good day.”
“Thanks,” Mela took the receipt, threw the bottles into her bag and pulled Atticus out of the store into the muggy, summer air.
They walked hand in hand until their hands became clammy and they were forced to let go somewhere in South Province Area 3.
They continued to walk in relative silence for a while, until…
“Wait.”
“Hm?”
Atticus didn’t expand, simply held up a finger as they scanned the area around for a sound Mela could not hear.
“It’s probably nothing. C’mon let’s–”
A shrill shriek cut through the air and Atticus honed in on a fairly flat rock by the edge of the path. They lifted the rock to find an all-too-small Salandit lying breathless under it. Atticus scooped it up to get a closer look.
Its snout to body was probably only the length of Atticus’s forearm and beneath all the grime and mud from the rock, was a set of pale white scales.
“The nearest centre’s up ahead,”
“Hey. Hey! We have an injured pokemon here, can you do anything?” Mela was the first to reach the centre as she called out for the Nurse on duty.
“Yes. Of course. What happened?”
Atticus caught up at that moment and deposited the Salandit on the surface as gently as possible for the situation while Mela uncharacteristically tripped over her words trying to explain.
“We found it under a rock for some reas– I don’t know why- why would someone do that?!”
“Unfortunately, I don’t think I could do more for it than you could,” The Nurse said, after looking over the pokemon.
“What?! Can’t you put it in your special machine or something?” Mela challenged, pointing to the machine in question.
“Not unless it’s registered to a trainer and a pokeball.” The Nurse pulled out some bandages and potions from under the desk and set about applying them to the lizard. “I mean, I guess one of you two could catch it so I could, but it would probably still need some more intensive care at a pokecentre in town.”
“Mesagoza’s not that far, we could– huh?”
Atticus had, completely silently, taken a spare pokeball out of their pocket and placed it in Mela’s hand.
“I would not mind taking this pokemon into mine care if thoust would not be adverse to it. Or perhaps we could raise it together?”
“Y’know what?” Mela said, taking the pokeball, “Why the hell not?” She tapped it on the salandit’s head.
Shwoop Shwoop Shwoop Ding
Salandit has been registered to your pokedex.
They let the nurse take the pokeball as they considered.
“Y’know, if we’re raising this thing together, shouldn’t we give it a name? I don’t wanna go round calling it nothing.”
“Hm, perhaps Gonzalo?”
“Absolutely not. You can have an old timey name but it needs to be nicknameable. I’m not calling this thing King Lord Fredrick of the seven isles or something like that. Griffin, perhaps? So it can be shortened to Griff?”
“T’is a name that imparts strength and majesty but I do not think it is appropriate for it’s subject. Gregorius perhaps?” Atticus said, rubbing their chin in thought.
“I’d be happy to compromise on Gregory so we can shorten it to Greg.”
“Deal.” They shook hands before realising the absurdity of doing so and burst into laughs.
“Um, excuse me? Your pokemon is all healed now. He’ll still need a check up at one of the town centres but he’ll be good for now.” The Nurse held out the ball to them.
Atticus took it, “Much thanks my lady. You have our gratitude for this great servitude,” they bowed a little with that.
“Oh, no problem. Just doing my job but.. Before you go, I think I know what happened. Or well, I think I can guess.”
“You do?” “What?”
“Yeah, um. This guy with a Salazzel came by a few hours ago with an egg. He said he was a breeder looking for something specific. He said he thought that egg was special. I guess it must’ve hatched somewhere between here and where you found it and he just abandoned it since it’s male. Though unless he admits it, I can’t prove anything. Good thing it’s with you two now.”
The story had re-angered Mela. She was practically vibrating where she and Atticus were still holding hands from their handshake earlier.
“You can’t do that! A shiny’s a shiny. Why would someone-”
“Mela. Calm yourself. T’is of little use raging over what hath already happened. T’is far more productive to think of how we shall care for this pokemon at this moment now and in future.”
“...Yeah. You’re right. You’re always right. C’mon. Thanks again, Miss.”
Their walk through the wilderness was once again quiet, but this time it was filled with thoughts of how Gregory would affect their lives and where he would slot in.
Monday afternoon, they were back in the art room and Hassel had caught the on their way in.
“Hello Mela. Atticus. And your new friend. Who’s this little one?” Hassel pointed to the Salandit nestled in Atticus’s arms. He looked at the dragon trainer curiously.
“That’s Greg. We found him out in the wild in a… rough situation so we’re taking care of him now.” It took a lot of self control for Mela to not say anything rude about exactly how they found the Salandit or her very extensive thoughts on the person who did that.
“Heh. He seems well behaved but try to keep him out of any trouble. He’s your responsibility though I have no doubts you’ll do just fine raising him.”
They said their thanks and found their usual spot in the corner of the art room. Hassel passed by them later to find the pokemon lounging across Mela’s shoulders watching as Atticus sewed a red and purple cushion together. Just before they left, he saw the salandit in the lap of luxury upon that custom red and purple cushion waiting for his trainers. Hassel had no doubts the white scaled Saladit would become a regular presence in the art room.
A week later…
“Hey guys.”
“Hey you two.” Giacomo waved from where he was sitting, “Wait, what’s that?”
Atticus took a long sip of their milkshake as Mela held up hers, holding Gregory to make sure he didn’t fall from where he was sitting on her arm.
“A milkshake.”