To be a true hero, kid, is a dying art

[there are a few unusual things about this here transmission: first, Sora's sending out a few text messages. they're... not exactly his first choice for communicating; he prefers being able to see someone's face when he's talking to them. that and he's painfully slow with hunting and pecking on a keyboard. he's got a good reason for going the text route today, though.]

Is everybody okay? I know all kinds of weird stuff's happened, and I want to make sure nobody's hurt.

[-- and unusual thing number two. though Sora is not much of a typist, he does at least try to make his texts grammatically correct. oh screw it, typing with one hand is annoying.]

let me know soon. also if you guys have any empty bottles hang on to them. or give them to me and i'll hold them for you. ive got an idea

if you find my stuff please be careful with dartanian_

[shortly after mashing the "send" button, Sora tosses his 'gear in front of him on the bed and sighs. tries to sigh. Bell waddles over to to where the 'gear hit the covers and turns it over and over with her tiny arm stubs, prii'ing happily to herself. feel free to make a video call, though you may be chatting with a Togepi at first.]

[if you happen to enter the pokécenter in Goldenrod, you might hear Sora arguing feebly with a nurse and basically being the worst patient ever.]