I Hadn't Signed Up for This! [Open/Mod]

[That Guy with Headphones]

((Myesyesyes, open! As in, I'd gladly pay you to enter if that's what it takes!))

*Hff, hff, hff.*

Saint hadn't done this much walking since... since... ever. After all, there was no track in the laboratory. He couldn't stop, slow down, or complain, however- his friend was in need.
If only some nerves in the body didn't exist... that would make Jet's left arm wound a far more pleasant bite. What an oaf he had been, wandering out and about, the necisity of attention far from his objectives. Of course, that could be explainable: there was so much that he could do now, it was as though he were living in a dream, and he would rendezvous to reality when he finally dreamed again. Why bother to fix up your gaping bite, when the possibility to fulfill your very hungering lust for vengeance was looming before you, arms wide and beckoning? The ridiculous imbecile, he had leapt off of the boat and into the Siren's arms.

What was there out here? Presumably nothing, a dirt road stretched across the landscape, slicing the natural terrain clean into halves. The lazy plains lying out on either flank of Jet held no signs of civilization. Jet had even made a swift confirmation with his map to be sure that Winchester Town existed. Perhaps, if he kept on trucking through, he could pass Winchester without the sight of a single house. That would be a true shame, beyond there lay the wilderness that he had survived from the night before.

Jet looked down at Saint. The Mienfoo was in front of him, marching at Jet's pace, the polite young fellow. And how determined he was! This gave off bare-stripped dedication, it did, for Saint was unquestionably accompanying Jet to find help. Had the compliance been missing, surely this punk would have put up a scene, a fight, something to object or get in the way, without direct intentions. Jet could tell from that that Saint was the right pick, those hours ago.

What was that? Something came into sight, far at vision's boundary, a dot. Perhaps a building, perhaps a person, and, possibly (and this would be rather ironic) a vehicle. Saint noticed fragments of moments later than Jet had, and both quickened in eagerness for a confronation.

[joshua]

WILD DODUO APPEARED!

Male - Early Bird - Docile
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Ssssstop!
No you Ssssstop it!
I said it first!
But I said it better!
HEY LOOK OUT!

One of the heads said as it noticed the trainer and pokemon they were quickly approaching. The had been running and trying to decide which head got to move at which tempo and then they had begun to argue. The dust flew high as the bird skidded to a stop in from of the pair.

Sorry!
Sorry!

The heads chirped in unison.

[That Guy with Headphones]

Wow, that shape sure did expand quickly. Perhaps that shape was expanding a tad too quickly. It should have slowed down a moment ago. Now several moments ago. Was it anywhere near halting? No, it was in a speedy collision course with Jet and Saint.
The mass was far from large, so the two braced as they flinched. Caught off guard by NO impact, Jet's eyes fluttered open to the sight of the dual-cranium Pokemon, Doduo. With his left arm held in almost a slung position, he was narrowed down to his right arm that tipped his hat in a gesture corresponding with, "Howdy." The Doduo struck him as indecisive and fickle, somethings clearly understandable.
Jet couldn't help but notice how anxious Saint was to slip through the talk and fall directly into the skirmishing. The Mienfoo must be patient, for he'd find another opportunity somewhere in time. Could they know where Jet could find someone who could tend to him? He pounced on the chance, "Is there anyone else nearby? I need to get some treatment, see. Funny, talking to a Doduo, and how Jet could not decide which head to be speaking to, so he continuously swapped focus between the two.

[joshua]

WILD DODUO APPEARED!

Male - Early Bird - Docile
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The Doduo cocked its heads to the side and blinked before finally seeing the nasty bite wound on the arm of the trainer.

Owie!
Hurts?!

They said and asked at the same time, pointing at the arm with one of its large feet. Moving their heads towards each other the large bird began to think. It had been hurt very badly before, only ever needing a good night's sleep in order to get over an injury.

Uhhhh...
Maybe?
Yeah, maybe!

The heads cried one after the other.

The farm!
Yeah, the farm!
Farmer has things!
Lots of things!
Shiny things!
Dull things!
Big things!
Small things!
Lots and lots...
Of things!

They rattled off quickly, each head taking a turn. It was fairly young, and didn't quite understand what was going on...

[That Guy with Headphones]

((Uy, it's been to long since I've last posted.))

A smirk had been suppressed when the Doduo had questioned his pain. In its involuntary place, his shoulders rose and fell with his snort-sigh hybrid. Saint, to Jet's dismay, remained on guard for a skirmish, one that appeared to be more desired by the Mienfoo himself than anyone else; the edge of Jet's lip twitched off to the side for a split-up moment of bother and disappointment.

The hint at the answer that Jet so fervently sought for piqued his interest, and he leaned in closer for what the pair knew and were going to tell him. His partner was far from mutual, though, and remained sharp.

A farmer? Yes, that made sense, accounting for how rural Winchester Town was sprawled out. As for "things"...? Such a general explanation would suffice for the time being: Jet was in the need of making haste, and whatever could not kill him could only drive things uphill. "A farmer?" Jet asked, lapping up all of this Pokemon's (Pokemons'?) intel, for it would near definitely prove applicable to helpful use. "Where should I be able to find this farmer?" More, more, more, Jet needed more.

[RE]

_{speech: CD853F}

“Oh yes! The farm! It is having what you needing!” called the first head.
“Very safe with farmer’s care, all pokemon very safe there! Follow us!!”
encouraged the second head bobbing about on its thin neck.
it’s thin feet clawing about in the dirt, moving closer towards the farm for help ignoring the trainer’s rather agitated looking Pokémon in its pursuit to help. They had tripped a few times pecking at one another in a fit over who would lead their coordination in getting there. They looked back hoping the team would follow. “Is you coming?” inquired the first head eying the wound on his arm. The second head looked back also causing their singular body wobble hazardously.

[That Guy with Headphones]

Diplomacy, astounding as it is...

is a word. Pfft, try pounding that into Saint's thick skull. The little mongrel was perhaps too trigger-happy, and Jet did catch one of the heads of the joyous Doduo noticing the Mienfoo's pep.

By now, the sun had passed the zenith of its mighty leap across the sky, falling in a collision course with the far, dull, undefined horizon. By the distance from its peak, Jet could weakly guess that the time must've been somewhere near three, though that held no guarantees.

Now that the Doduo had marched on towards the farm (and away from Jet and Saint), Jet directed his lowered voice downward and confronted his partner with a bothered tempo. "Settle now, you, they're getting us out of this jam."
Saint, subtle with his thoughts as he was, avoided expressing a battle-lust and took the quieter route, shrugging and mubmling, "Erh, yeah, sorry. I'll stop right away, Jet." Saint's over-humbled tone ignited a flickering regret inside Jet's chest, for he had not meant nor felt the desire to down his Mienfoo's morale, and with so little a comment.

No matter; when the two fell into step behind the Doduo, Jet could tell that Saint's fighting spirits were undeterred. Tsk, there would be no talking that crazy thing off of the ledge.

[RE]

"Left!"
"Right."
"Left!"
"Right. Why is you getting so excting at walking like this??"
the second head asked his brother head the first. Who looked at him with a dull expression on his face and simply did not reply resuming step as if it were nothing. As the towering barn came into view they halted some ten feet from the entrance both beaming stupidly proud of themselves. The first head spoke finally "We is bring you here safe and sounds my brother and I is!" he raised his neck to it's full length, second head following suit expression still beaming proudly.

[That Guy with Headphones]

By the time that the plainly dim Doduo directed the twosome to the dainty, yet proud and looming barn, the wound of Jet's left arm had either withered down to or flared up to a long, unclear stream of ache. No longer did the damaged nerves tug tirelessly at his brain for attention, though they had yet to lose feeling alltogether, as an impatient child at an amusement park. With the time passing, Jet had the opportunity to ponder the outcomes of that fate-binding bite: there could be severe blood-loss, inflammation, and infection. The longer Jet reflected upon the possiblities, the more obscure and improbable they grew.
Saint, now muzzled by Jet's words, tuned the knob of his focus towards the hematic scenario they were entangled among. Not belligerent as he had been, concern had glazed over the fighting sense; worry over the concern.

How peaceful this Doduo had proven to be! Such a kind Pokemon, for any other would have pounced on the chance for a brawl. Jet couldn't think of bringing himself to challenge the generous new friend, even if that meant turning down an addition to his party.
Instead, he graciously tipped his hat and exhibited his thoughts as he baded, "I can't display it enough; thank you kindly." Saint had, to Jet's counterintuition, nodded and waved to the twin-skulled bird.
Now was when Jet had to see this farmer, and no time later. Forced to part ways with another of his various saviors, he and Saint approached the entrance, flipped open the latch of the hatch, and slipped inside, not the most faded of an idea of what lay inside.

[RE]

Alysia Wellington Appears

A loud banging could be heard upon entering the barn. In the stark middle wedge of space between two rows of horse stalls sitting on a silver stool overall clad, was a young blond woman she held a hammer in an upraised hand, and in the other the back hoof of a tied up ponyta. Nails sat in a jumble at her lips under the glare of two blazing lights swarming with flies along with the odd beedrill. Sweat beaded her brow tangling with the fringe of hair exposed from her hat, engrossed in her hard work.

[That Guy with Headphones]

The barn from the inside could be defined in similar manner to the outside view: homey, though in a strong, gritty rural sense. Amidst the baren, sparsely hay-littered floor (or ground? was there any floor?) perched a girl atop an unbacked seat, visibly older than Jet by some unplacable margin. For some unexplainable reason, his hopes rather wilted. 'Does this mean I should come back some other time?' The panic of his perils had eroded his solid common sense. Matters such as a wound, in normal circumstances, outweight the importance of impaling nails through horseshoes and onto hooves.
Fortunately for the both of them, Saint had yet until his sense would fail him. "Gyerh, maybe now is not a good time..." Turning back and leaving would allow the laborer to complete her work, while Jet and Saint could go and... and... hmmm...
Saint snagged Jet by his pant leg with stubborn force. The Mienfoo shook his head sternly, half-scolding, half-warning, "Her work can't be as urgent as yours. You're going nowhere."
Taken aback at his partner's authority, Jet was hypnotized by Saint's command and obliged. With hesitance, he approached the apparent farmer, the footsteps being the one thing to mask things from his worrisome mind- mostly the pained nerves in his arm that refused to hush themselves. Whether Jet's voice would be audible was undeterminable over the clanging and tapping of nails sliding through horseshoes and penetrating the Ponyta's hoof, yet still he greeted, "Salutations. Don't mean to bother you in y'r work, though could you spare me some time?" 'Curse me for leaping into these troubles.'

[Nekayne]

Just before the hammer could strike the horseshoe she had before her, Alysia stopped mid-swing and looked over towards the direction of the greeting. Upon seeing the trainer and his Pokemon, Alysia's hard-at-work expression turned into a bright smile, her brown eyes clearly stating that any company was welcome.

"Howdy!" Alysia chirped. "Just give me a quick second there, darlin'." She drew her hammer arm back and with one last trained swing, she brought the hammer into the sticking out nail and secured the horse shoe in place. She let the Ponyta's hoof down and as she stood, she gave the Pokemon a dismissive pat on it's hind quarter.

"What can I do ya for?" Alysia came forward to the trainer and his Pokemon, her hands absentmindedly slipping the hammer into her belt. "Need a meal? Some lodgin'? Somethin' ta help ya on yer journey?"

[/blockquote][/blockquote]

[That Guy with Headphones]

Feelings that arose in Jet were mixed- here, he'd be safe, that was out of the question. Relief and security settled across his mindscape; lack of responsibility and independence had smothered him. The ambiance was merely missing the strong scents of baked things and the elderly. Jet expressed little of the matter, though Saint, childish as he was, shuffled and swiveled about in discomfort.

No name? That was fine, since Jet hadn't given his. What did he want or need? He considered whether he needed even mention anything, and smacked his rude subconsciousness for the suggestion. "Kinda urgent..." he mumbled, his voice low. "Took a bite to the arm." Saint had steered himself a distance away from the conversation of sorts, meandering away from people and Pokemon alike.

[Nekayne]

Alysia's eyes drifted downwards until she set her eyes upon the wound engorged into the young man's arms. She sharply gasped, "Goodness! What in tarnation were ya doin' to earn that?" She was used to seeing some of the newbie trainers around down with a few pecks or bruises from trying to get too close to wild Pokemon, but a larger-scale injury was more uncommon.

"Hold tight." Alysia said as she turned around. She jogged over to one of the empty stables that she used for her miscellaneous equipment and, with a bit of digging around, she returned with a make-shift first aid kit that was held within a tool box.

"Now let's see that arm." Alysia set the box on the stool she had been previously sitting on and opened it up. She quickly fetched a bottle of rubbing alcohol and cotton pads, and awaited to be presented the wound.

[/blockquote][/blockquote]

[That Guy with Headphones]

The rancher's gasp startled Jet's heart into a jump with a loud "BOO!". From his experience, whenever someone asked a question in astonishment, it was with the intention of striking guilt in his heart for something that he had done. He was caught off guard by how stern she wasn't. By the way that she questioned the bite's source, Jet could rest assured that this problem wasn't out of her league. That came as a relief; Jet was unsure whether there could be anyone else within a day's walk from here.
The woman addressed Jet in an alien fashion as she rummaged for his lifeline. It was loaded with... what was that?... He'd need to reflect to determine what it was. When he was little, Mother would've patched up his scraped knee autonomously from the practice she'd had with her first child.

By the time Jet's surgeon returned, the drunken party of emotions had been scattered by the local authorities, and all that was left behind was the passed out and hung over fear. Fear of being alone out in a place that he didn't know, fear that he may never see home again (that he could eventually comfort himself in), and fear of this red reaper on his left arm. The pain had dulled to nearly nothing, though that was when the bull was left un-pestered. Merely tickle the thing, and Jet payed dearly. Oh, the mistakes he had made. He promised to himself that he wouldn't get entangled in a bamboozle like this one again.
Jet's eyes widened at the sight of the rubbing alcohol; he knew how much of a bastard his wound would be with that demon playing around in it. After hastily doffing his shirt, Jet looked away as he filled his gaping mouth with something to bite on and offered the momentary medic his injury. Saint apprehensively muted the surely upcoming noise with his paws.