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Old 04-28-2009, 01:20 AM
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Default Re: Communication (PG-13)

Solonn barely registered the trip from Whitley’s to the Convergence Inn, barely even aware of any conscious effort on his part to keep his body afloat as he drifted lethargically behind the swellow. He didn’t seem to absorb Jal’tai’s words when the bird told him that they had arrived at their destination until several seconds after those words had been spoken.

Vaguely, Solonn noted that he was following Jal’tai into the hotel. Through a haze that made it difficult for his mind to grasp that the input from his eyes was genuine, he saw the swellow stray from his immediate vicinity and cross the lobby to go and speak with a swampert receptionist.

Jal’tai returned shortly, then gestured with his wing toward an elevator to Solonn’s right. “This way,” he said. “Your room is on the top floor.”

Making a vague noise of acknowledgment, Solonn allowed himself to be guided toward the elevator. Jal’tai pressed a button set in the wall beside one of the elevator’s steel doors, and a few moments later the doors opened. Solonn drifted quite slowly and somewhat unsteadily into the elevator; Jal’tai just managed to dash in after him before the doors closed and the elevator began to rise.

Once the ascent was complete, the two of them emerged onto the uppermost floor. Jal’tai moved ahead of Solonn and began making his way through the corridor, looking for what was to be Solonn’s room.

“Here it is!” he called back to the glalie after only a brief search.

Solonn glided over to join him, so hampered by drowsiness at this point that he very drifted right into the wall before coming to a stop beside the swellow.

“This shall be your room for the night,” Jal’tai said, “right in there.” He gestured toward the very same wall with which Solonn had just nearly collided. There was no door, no apparent means of gaining entry into the “room” that Jal’tai was indicating. The wall was nearly featureless save for the words “Grand Suite” in blue human- and unown-script and a pair of strange devices fitted to the wall next to the words. One of these fixtures was some kind of keypad, while the other resembled nothing so much as a round, blank, gray eye.

Even in his great lethargy, Solonn managed to give the swellow quite a skeptical look.

Jal’tai smiled. “Observe.” Fluttering up into the air before the keypad, he punched a code into it using a single claw on his right foot, then hurriedly flapped aside from it.

“Ready,” said a computerized voice from out of nowhere, and a large, glowing, green square lit up dramatically on the floor in front of the lens and keypad. “Please enter the transport field.”

“Go to that square and sit down,” Jal’tai said.

Solonn did as he was told. “Initializing scan,” said the computerized voice. The lens on the wall awakened, glowing with a brilliant, golden light. It projected a beam of the same color, which touched Solonn, broadened to his width, and swept up and down over him. “Scan complete,” the voice then said, and the beam vanished.

The glowing, green tile on which Solonn was sitting flashed. A peculiar, tingling sensation prickled over the glalie’s skin, followed by a strange, sort of transcendent sensation not unlike that which accompanied entrance into a capture ball. However, he was drawn not into a disembodied netherscape but rather a large, richly furnished suite with paintings on its walls that put those hanging up at Whitley’s to shame and marble figures of various dragon-type pokémon placed here and there. Not that Solonn could truly appreciate his surroundings, however; to his weary eyes, everything around him seemed to want to bleed together into a blur of color and light.

“Hey in there!” Jal’tai shouted, his voice coming in through the wall. “Do you like it?”

Solonn turned toward the wall and made a wordless noise that was as affirmative-sounding as his lack of energy would allow.

“Good, good!” Jal’tai responded merrily. “Now, listen, I doubt you’ll need anything overnight; your suite comes very well equipped, I assure you. But, if you do… Well, have a look at the little table by that green armchair in the den.” He gave the glalie ample time to find it; Solonn, in his present state, needed every second of it.

“I see it,” Solonn finally said, his words slurred.

“Good,” Jal’tai said, speaking more loudly now to ensure that his next instructions would be heard. “Now, you’ll notice the little black box with a large, round speaker on top—you can use that to call me if you need anything. It’s voice-activated. You need only speak into it—say ‘Page’, then my name, followed by ‘Room 44-B’, which is where I’m going to be staying. Call, and I’ll come up here as quickly as I can manage. Got it?”

“Got it,” Solonn confirmed, although he was only minimally aware of what he was saying.

“All right, then. Rest well, Mr. Zgil-Al!” Jal’tai said brightly. His words were followed by a continuing silence that signified that he’d left.

With yet another huge yawn, Solonn lowered himself onto the floor. He rolled onto his back and gratefully let his eyelids meet, sighing as he did so. His fading mind drifted back to information that it had absorbed earlier that day, specifically information regarding the unown. Solonn remembered, in a detached sort of way, something having been piqued within his mind at learning of them, but he had fallen too far toward sleep to truly reach any of those notions now. Already half-dreaming, his brain conjured images of the fantastic, surreal beings that it guessed the unown to be, whimsically bizarre creatures that danced in circles around his consciousness as it dwindled away.


Chapter 7 contains one of my absolute favorite Solonn quotes. See if you can guess what it was.

Next chapter: Solonn makes a discovery of a most unexpected nature and gets to know Jal’tai a little better. See you then!

- Sike Saner

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The Origin of Storms

Last edited by Sike Saner; 04-11-2011 at 04:54 AM. Reason: Revisions.
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