Edmond V. Flamberge (
magmaticflamberge) wrote2012-06-09 11:30 pm
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A fateful encounter [for
wouldbeground]
Edmond's nice dress shoes aren't quite made for an uphill hike on Jagged Pass.
And yet there he is, clad in a nice suit - black slacks and red blazer - and threatening to fall ruinously at almost every step on the steep slopes. The legs of his slacks are ruined, the fine fabric gray with volcanic ash and dirt. His loyal Zangoose, obviously oblivious to the concept of dressing more or less adequately for an occasion, sprints on, several feet ahead of him, considerate enough to turn every few steps to check that his Trainer is safe.
Finally, the barren top of Mount Chimney comes in sight, its rocks a reddish brown. At that, Edmond stops and closes his eyes, breathing deeply while rivulets of tears stream across his cheeks. "Can you feel it, Fang? His energy pulsating at the heart of the mountain... Our God, the almighty Groudon is near!" Producing a fine handkerchief from one of his pockets, he wipes tears, ash and sweat from his face. "He's the only one... who can give me the answers I seek."
And yet there he is, clad in a nice suit - black slacks and red blazer - and threatening to fall ruinously at almost every step on the steep slopes. The legs of his slacks are ruined, the fine fabric gray with volcanic ash and dirt. His loyal Zangoose, obviously oblivious to the concept of dressing more or less adequately for an occasion, sprints on, several feet ahead of him, considerate enough to turn every few steps to check that his Trainer is safe.
Finally, the barren top of Mount Chimney comes in sight, its rocks a reddish brown. At that, Edmond stops and closes his eyes, breathing deeply while rivulets of tears stream across his cheeks. "Can you feel it, Fang? His energy pulsating at the heart of the mountain... Our God, the almighty Groudon is near!" Producing a fine handkerchief from one of his pockets, he wipes tears, ash and sweat from his face. "He's the only one... who can give me the answers I seek."
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Perhaps the chairlift would have been a much better thing to have used. He stands there, looking at the lava from where he was standing. Constantly needing to wipe his brow when the head got too much for him to bear. The ash continued to bug him... and he was worried he would be plagued for it for life.
And then he heard a voice coming from behind him. Like a surprise, his heart jolted from his chest. He paused for a moment, and stood there quietly. "...Who is there?" Not wanting to turn... a fear of getting more ash in his eyes. "...Tabitha, is that you?" It didn't sound like him but maybe he was hearing things differently right now.
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