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POSTED ON Dec 30, 2019 4:36:46 GMT

[attr="class","knoxpost"]he hasn't seen her since she left him in a pile of his own vomit with a few of his pokemon pocketed in her bag. and he doesn't really remember what she said to him, only remembers the weight on his shoulders as she pushed him to his side so he wouldn't choke on his own puke.

he's back on his bullshit, ever since the fallout with hadley. and he can only imagine how much summer won't give a flying fuck. he's done holding his breath for that.

he has his hands in his jacket pockets, shoulders hunched. not much meat on his bones to keep out the cold. he's a sour look on his face, but at least his glaceon is enjoying the cold weather.

"busy night, even though it's cold," he remarks when she nears. he doesn't even really see her out of the corner of his eye. he just knows she's there, taunting and smug and probably thinking of a thousand different ways to fuck him over before they can get past pleasantries.

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Summer Atreides

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POSTED ON Jan 13, 2020 4:28:37 GMT

[attr="class","summerpost"]"the cold has you looking pale," she remarks when she nears. she blinks once; eyes glossing over him for the briefest of moments. the furrow of her brows isn't intentional, but she makes no efforts to conceal it. it's not as if she cares about his opinion. why should she?

she exhales; breath warm in the cool air as she pulls the corners of her coat towards her. the crowd has her attention; no one in particular, at least not yet as her gaze sweeps across.

"see someone you like?" because she doesn't. there's no one interesting. no one valuable. she begins to wonder if it's even worth her time to be here. she clicks her tongue, exhales, and waits for an answer she already knows.

knox prescott

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POSTED ON Jan 13, 2020 16:43:49 GMT

[attr="class","knoxpost"]he'd often wondered what it might have been like if they hadn't grown up under the umbrella of a crime syndicate. and he'd often come to the conclusion that summer would have been the same manipulative sister, a wolf with dagger-teeth and a cunning smile.

but could he have been different?

while captain and blue have a soft spot for the prescott sister, lena doesn't pay her much mind. she raises her nose to the air and sniffs delicately, though knox has a feeling she's scenting the warm poketreats that are being cooked two stores down.

his fingers curl tighter. "dear sister mine, you know i don't have half a good eye as you." he starts walking, turns only to make sure she's following. "let's walk and do some recon. warm up. you like cider?"

x x x
Summer Atreides

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POSTED ON Jan 15, 2020 10:40:22 GMT

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[attr="class","summerpost"]she doesn't follow, at least not immediately. his words fall on deaf ears, more so than usual. the subtle scent in the air carries her gaze two stalls down, to a young girl tugging on the hem of a man's shirt. she can see her wide-eyes, her pink-cheeks, and how she has an arm wrapped around a stuffed pikachu. the man shakes his head and she looks disappointed. sad. it shows in the frown on her face.

it's a familiar frown.

shoulders are quick to collide, though not as quick as instinct. it's natural: the knowledge, the movement, the reward that comes from it. "excuse me," she says, sheepish as ever. a moment passes.

"why do people put pokeballs on their belts? is it a fashion choice?" she tosses a quick glance over her shoulder before raising a single pokeball between her fingers. "not that i'm complaining. makes my life easier."

knox prescott

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POSTED ON Jan 16, 2020 16:10:24 GMT

[attr="class","knoxpost"]he doesn't look to watch her. he doesn't know what he'd find on her face if he did--wouldn't be able to discern if it was regret or something lesser. he'd assume the latter.

but he doesn't even have a moment to think this because he's too busy ordering cider for the two of them from an elderly woman with too-kind eyes. she has a single pokeball on her belt and it would be so, so easily to do a slight sleight of hand, lean forward in the stall and snag it while enrapturing her in his too-blue eyes.

but he doesn't. he takes both ciders and thanks her and when summer approaches, he offers her one. he takes a sip of his.

he shrugs. "easy access? you'd think more secure belts would be made, at least," he says.

he scans the crowd. a man walks hand in hand with a slight woman; he readjusts his trench coat. the inside flashes for a brief moment and knox sees the five luxury balls nestled against the fabric.

"up for a challenge then, red?" he says, smile dimpling.

x x x
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POSTED ON Jan 21, 2020 4:42:44 GMT

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[attr="class","summerpost"]she takes the cider in her hands before she takes a sip. the gradual flow of warmth is welcoming in the cold. as is the tangy sweetness.

she scans the crowd. she cheats by stealing a quick glance at her brother, at how his beady eyes sift to find what he likes. what he needs. her eyes land on the same man in a trench coat and it's only then that she decides,

"mm, i don't think so. he's a little too boring."

she raises her chin in a gesture, then tucks her one free hand into a pocket.

"go on then, brother. i'll wait."

knox prescott

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