Snippet #2289997

Mar was a little surprised that he'd been right about her writing her own music, though he wasn't sure why this was shocking. For someone who seemed to adore music as much as Sumara did, it wasn't too much of a stretch that she'd have some kind of penchant for creating the stuff herself.

It made him consider what it was he wanted to do with his life, if anything, and what he considered to be his passion. Being a Pokemon trainer was "the thing" to do at their age (or, a little younger, as Sumara and he had gotten a late start on that particular milestone.) He didn't honestly feel he had a natural knack for it, though... not like some people did. He glanced at Sumara, her legs up in the air with her new catch perched happily there, and silently thought to himself that one of those such people was laying there beside him right now. Feeling a bit envious, he vowed to never, ever reveal the fact that he rather admired her natural affinity with Pokemon. He'd never live it down if that happened.

His brooding thoughts were wiped out of his mind as if by dynamite blast at the bit of gymnastics performed by Sumara next. Not realizing he was staring until after she made a comment about the feat, he looked away, glad it was getting dark. He wasn't sure how red his face was, but he was betting it was giving his hair a run for its money.

"You're... ah, flexible," he commented, earning himself a Captain Obvious title. Wanting to make that seem like a smooth transition rather than a random observation, he struggled to make conversation. "So. Music, training for your body-contorting circus act... when do you have time to learn about Pokemon?" It was a weak joke, nowhere near up to his normal teasing standard, but Mar's brain was a bit scrambled.

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Brigson's eyebrows rose at the mention of Regirock. He'd assumed the golem was just a myth, right on par with Mewtwo or Santa Claus. The fact that Jace had seen the titan not once, but many times, left him at a loss.

The two lapsed into a silence, no doubt thinking of different things, but at Jace's promise that the one behind the disease would pay, Brigson nodded solemnly.

"I believe you," he said simply, already feeling that this man he'd only known for a few hours could do just about anything with that kind of drive and ambition. He smiled slightly, remembering another person who had refused to give up. No one had ever thought Brigson himself would make it from his life as a juvenile delinquent into any job more respectable than a burger-flipper (if he was lucky.) Now those who actually did know about his past, of which there were few, could barely recognize the tattooed, angry teenager in the quiet, disciplined man they knew today. Simply refusing to give up when something mattered enough was a trait that Brigson figured was probably the most important and admired to him in the world.

Not realizing he'd been staring at Jace for a while, Brigson blinked, pulling himself out of his thoughts and memories, and smiled slightly. "If there's anything I can do to help, let me know. I won't be leaving your side very often, which I realize might be distracting, but if you need errands done I'd be happy to assist."