action;

[outofsynth]

Who: Min-Gi Park [outofsynth] + YOU
Where: Various Kanto locations
When: January 10th - 20th
Summary: Winter sucks and Min-Gi's stuck with orange hair. Thanks, Snorunts.
Rating: PG
Log:

ROUTE 6 OR 8 (JAN 10th - 14th)

[Min doesn't want to be here. For so many reasons. There is a pause in the hail, thankfully, but even bundled up it's still so cold. Unfortunately being a responsible trainer with enough ice types to have regrets means enduring the discomfort. Regularly.

On the plus side the recently ended hail storm means there aren't too many others about, either people or Pokémon. There's plenty of room for even Beat to play, the Baxcalibur gallivanting through the thick snow like an overgrown dog and allowing a much smaller Alolan Vulpix to give chase. It is cute, even if the hood of his parka and his toque pulled down far enough to almost cover his eyes still somehow isn't enough to keep out the chill entirely. He stands stiff as he watches them, occasionally shivering visibly and hunching in on himself further.]

LAVENDER TOWN (JAN 14th)

[Caught off guard by the hail, Min-Gi has little choice but to take shelter in the corner of one of the little cafés dotted around Lavender Town. It's thankfully dim, so maybe it's not as noticeable he's still wearing his hat indoors. It's pulled down further than it should be, something the Zangoose in his lap seems set on making even more of a problem. It's still small, like a kit(ten), and full of pent up energy. Its tail twitches behind it, and it clambers its way up Min's chest to try and pull the hat even further down over his eyes with bright red claws.]

Get off that!

[Shockingly, the unusually coloured Zangoose does not comply.]

VERMILION CITY (JAN 20th)

[For the past few days, the skies have been clear. Overall it's a relief, even if it does mean there are more people milling about again. Reluctantly, Min's one of them. He hasn't been able to fix his hair, and he can't keep hiding inside forever. It's early enough when he ventures out to run errands there aren't too many people about, but he's still wearing the same hat that's practically become his trademark this month.

It's going slower than he'd like. Ice Age, his supposed helper for the day, keeps pausing to look morosely up at the sun. His arms are full, so he nudges the ground next to her with his foot to try and get her moving again.]

It's still cold.

[He's trying to be reassuring, but she only whines, the Alolan Sandslash curling herself up in a ball on top of the snow still gathered on the sidewalk.]