*a/n I was totes saving this for when I actually got a new number, but the other person texts first! How can I reveal that I'm the Pokémon Master???
It's a warm summer day in Texas, and there are people milling around the street, only to rush into a building nearby. You turn your head in confusion, wondering what it was that people were running away from. There, under the glaring light of the sun's fearsome rays do you notice the the shadow of a menacing figure. The joy you once felt from exploring the town evaporates along with a puddle nearby. It's difficult to see the figure, so you cover your eyes and proceed to say, "Who are you, and what have you done?"
A hostile cackle erupts from the mouth of your soon-to-be foe. "A name is but a sticker to be placed on a face. You can rip of the tag, and make yourself a new one." Finally, you can tell that they appear to be wearing a baseball cap. "I go by many names," the stranger growls. "And many recognize them as the same person. But by what name might you know me, I am uncertain. Thus, I am afraid your question may remain unanswered. As for what have I done."
The figure poses dramatically like a Pokémon master, searching for the rarest legendary. They throw their cap off, only to quickly regret their decision, catch it in mid air, and place it back on their head.
"I am not one for dramatics, for I deal in the world of truths." You feel a cold shiver, and realize they must be staring straight into your eyes. "I deal in a world of truths, I say, yet what is the truth? What may seem like fact to one, is merely a fiction to another, for personal realities exist. These realities and placebos confuse and alter the mind scape until truth simply does not exist."
You feel fed up with this philosophy talk, and suddenly call out, "I simply asked for a name! This is an awful waste of text!"
The shadow throws off their hat to reveal decadent—no. They regret that and put the hat back on. "I'll get have to reveal myself normally," they mutter still pretentious.
Finally they look up, and you can see their eyes clearly. Fierce, dark brown eyes. They aren't angry though, they doesn't know how to be really angry. Not yet.
Gingerly, you listen as they clear their throat under the foreboding sky, and you chill never goes away as they widen their stance to intimidate you.
The figure lifts one arm so that it's parallel to the floor, and raise the other at an acute angle. Slowly, they bend sideways at the waist, and you're absolutely captivated. Your eyes never leave them, and you feel yourself begin to sweat. What are they going to do? What are they about to do?? You ask yourself this desperately, the suspense is gnawing at your bones.
Suddenly, they complete their motion. It was crisp and clean. 'Twas the perfect dab, you think.
"Hey, it's Tara!" they say. "Got your number!"
