The last thing Armin remembers is settling down for bed, closing his eyes, and then suddenly he had been here. Wherever here might be.
For a moment he wonders if this is what it feels like to go back to your own world, but no, that can't be. This looks nothing like the world he hails from, and in any case, aren't you supposed to not remember your stay in the pokemon world? Armin can remember his perfectly clear, the people he had met, the pokemon he had befriended. So... he can't be home. But if he isn't home, where is he?
Shaking his head, he tries to refocus. He seems to be in a little wooden... hut? There is something strangely familiar about it, the itch of a forgotten memory at the back of his mind. It feels like he has seen this place before, but where? Not back in his own world, but somewhere during his time in the pokemon world, perhaps? He frowns to himself, chewing his lip as he tries to dig through his memories, trying to find something familiar. He trails his fingers over the edge of a wooden workbench, glancing around him. The little hut he is inside of is rather cluttered. Each wall seems to be covered in racks and storage units, tons of little drawers drawing the eye. The desk is equally cluttered - sheaves of parchment and a kettle and strange leaves and odd little plants in little pots. There are more odds and ends hanging from the ceiling - large feathers in various colours and an odd horn, pieces of wood and what might be cages.
Turning, he tries to find something that'll jog his memory, but in the cluttered little space, his elbow knocks into a wooden broom, sending it to the ground with a loud clatter.
Magical assistant
For a moment he wonders if this is what it feels like to go back to your own world, but no, that can't be. This looks nothing like the world he hails from, and in any case, aren't you supposed to not remember your stay in the pokemon world? Armin can remember his perfectly clear, the people he had met, the pokemon he had befriended. So... he can't be home. But if he isn't home, where is he?
Shaking his head, he tries to refocus. He seems to be in a little wooden... hut? There is something strangely familiar about it, the itch of a forgotten memory at the back of his mind. It feels like he has seen this place before, but where? Not back in his own world, but somewhere during his time in the pokemon world, perhaps? He frowns to himself, chewing his lip as he tries to dig through his memories, trying to find something familiar. He trails his fingers over the edge of a wooden workbench, glancing around him. The little hut he is inside of is rather cluttered. Each wall seems to be covered in racks and storage units, tons of little drawers drawing the eye. The desk is equally cluttered - sheaves of parchment and a kettle and strange leaves and odd little plants in little pots. There are more odds and ends hanging from the ceiling - large feathers in various colours and an odd horn, pieces of wood and what might be cages.
Turning, he tries to find something that'll jog his memory, but in the cluttered little space, his elbow knocks into a wooden broom, sending it to the ground with a loud clatter.
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