A Realistic Pokemon RP
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His mother is the village beauty. When she dances, all eyes follow; it is hard not to see the Tapus in her movements. The strength of Tapu Bulu, the sturdiness of Tapu Fini, the delicacy of Tapu Lele, the fluidity of Tapu Koko. She dances and the whole world watches.
As a boy, he admires her beauty. As a man, he understands that the higher the perch, the harder the fall.
His father is traditional. It is not nearly as oppressive as one might think. Nanu knows their language, long lost to time, kept alive only through scraps passed on through the generations, and he knows their rituals. He watches for the glimmer of shooting stars and he watches the yearly festivals thanking Tapu Bulu. It’s enough—until it isn’t.
They bicker, a fiery temper worsened by adolescence spitting at a brick wall, hissing and burning like a feral Growlithe. Eventually, he leaves—grabs a pack of clothes, some money, and walks out the door. He doesn’t come back for twenty years.
By that time, it’s too late.
Police Academy isn’t where he thought he would end up, but it fits. It works for him. He’s smart and resourceful and he spends more time working than perhaps anybody else. His unhealthy relationship with sleep is not one he’s a stranger to, but he ignores insomnia in favor of caffeine and paperwork.
Sometimes it’s hard. Seeing fallen Pokémon is nearly as hard as seeing fallen people.
And then one day, he’s old. He’s tired. He sleeps more than he works, more than he’s awake, and there’s questions from his team and from his superiors, from the people who look up to him.
He tries. He really does, but something has its claws in him and pulls hard, drags him from his desk and puts him in a dark, dark place where he can’t even breathe most the time, where his heartbeat sounds too loud and everything is too much and yet it’s not enough—
He panics on the job. Someone gets hurt. He hands in his resignation form and badge the next day, a promising career cut short by the demons inside his head.
Po Town is a skeleton of what he remembers. He’s kept in contact with his mother over the years, letters sent back and forth, and then occasional phone calls. Then the calls stopped coming three years ago. She died. His father moved in with his sister. Nanu finds Po Town so incredibly lonely, but he stays here. Where else can he go?
He’s thirty-six when Tapu Bulu approaches him. He knows that there hasn’t been a Kahuna in Ula’ula for quite some time, but he doesn’t make the connection at first.
When he does, he starts ignoring the guardian deity.
It follows him around day after day, eventually breaking his door when Nanu locks himself in the house, and stares at him, petulant and persistent.
“You’ve chosen wrong,” he tells it, day after day, flopping into bed. “Go away.”
But it stays.
Eventually, there’s a knock at the door. Tapu Bulu hovers around him for those two weeks and runs to see Nanu’s unexpected visitor.
It’s his father.
Nanu’s not sure who told him, or how he figured it out, but he’s there and he invites himself in, bowing slightly to Tapu Bulu.
They have a lot to talk about. Too much to discuss. Nanu has the creeping feeling that he is, somehow, running out of time.
Not everything can be resolved in one night.
“The guardian deities know what they’re doing. They’re never wrong.”
Nanu would beg to differ, but he doesn’t have any say in the matter. Tradition is tradition. It would always end like this, with him accepting the position. Otherwise, Tapu Bulu wouldn’t have chosen him at all.
It takes him weeks to notice Team Skull.
They've been here for some time—how else would they have taken over the abandoned homes?—but he only really notices when one runs into him, bandanas tied around their faces, Pokéballs at the ready.
They stare at him, cocky and so sure that this old man they've found will make an easy target.
He's not that much of a pushover.
The balance between his space and Team Skull's is a tenuous one. Years ago, he would be the first one looking to kick Team Skull and their leader, Guzma, a boy flying far too close to the sun, out of what was once a home for many. Now, he's simply too tired.
Sometimes, he sits by the windowsill, watching the rain, a Meowth biting at his toes and another curled up in his lap. He waits and waits for the Tapu to come, to be the first one in the history of his people to be fired from being a Kahuna—but it never comes.