[It takes him a minute to register that he's not in the same place anymore. Longer than a minute, actually.
This Red is young, eleven at the most. He's sitting cross-legged on the ground, dark eyes unfocused and staring dead straight ahead. He appears to be completely unaware of anything happening in the world around him. He's clutching something in one hand so tightly that it's starting to cut into his palm and drip blood onto his jeans—but his jeans are filthy and caked in dried blood already, along with the rest of his clothes. He's got bruises on his arms and face and looks like he hasn't eaten in some time.
When he does take notice of the island, and the pokéballs in front of him, it's with the dull surprise of someone seeing the world through a wall of water. He blinks, stares at the objects before him for a good thirty seconds, then simply shakes his head in total incomprehension. Could this be...another trick? He really ought to investigate. But he's so tired. And his pokémon would still be...]
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This Red is young, eleven at the most. He's sitting cross-legged on the ground, dark eyes unfocused and staring dead straight ahead. He appears to be completely unaware of anything happening in the world around him. He's clutching something in one hand so tightly that it's starting to cut into his palm and drip blood onto his jeans—but his jeans are filthy and caked in dried blood already, along with the rest of his clothes. He's got bruises on his arms and face and looks like he hasn't eaten in some time.
When he does take notice of the island, and the pokéballs in front of him, it's with the dull surprise of someone seeing the world through a wall of water. He blinks, stares at the objects before him for a good thirty seconds, then simply shakes his head in total incomprehension. Could this be...another trick? He really ought to investigate. But he's so tired. And his pokémon would still be...]