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Uh? When somebody placed an order for a My Little Ponyta birthday cake, Biscotti didn’t expect to end up in this place. While it looked clean enough outside, the interior looked a lot like a biker bar. Honey eyes jumped from face to face, seeking out whoever bought the cake. But he didn’t want to assume one of them had placed the order. He doubted they’d take it well.

Bright birthday decorations hung from every corner. A ballerina in mache was settled against an old keg in the corner.

Most of the people were bearded and half were scarred. Minus the kids at the room’s center. They seemed pretty well-adjusted. Before he could get his bearings, one of the men at the bar approached. When he spoke, it reminded the college freshman of an angry bear. The words, however, weren’t a death threat. Just a question. “That my daughter’s cake?” Biscotti dropped his gaze to the pastry as if to confirm it was a cake he was holding and not handlebars or something. “Uhhh…." What were words? “Yes. Sir.” He offered the box to the man, who took it with a grunt.“Thanks for ordering from Kingsley’s.”

As the customer curled it against his chest, the man’s grey eyes met those of the delivery boy. “You wanna a piece? We got plenty.” His mustache wavered like a broom when he talked. A tip was pressed into Biscotti’s still-open palm. “Uh, no. I’m, uh, trying to watch my figure.” More comfortable now, Biscotti grinned. “I hope Elsie has a great birthday. Me and Sis put a lot of love into that thing.”

A wave rippled through the room. It appeared the birthday girl was on her way! “Get out the back door, kid. I can’t ruin the surprise.” With a nod and an awkward salute, Biscotti tumbled into the cool Slateport night. At his side, confused by what had happened, Bow-Wow trotted. A noise to his right made him jump.

Probably a good idea to pay attention out here. This wasn’t exactly a nice place to be at night.

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[attr="class","bisc"]All around them, the woods were filled with the calls of bird Pokemon. Somewhere in the distance, a Chatot swore. Even though he couldn’t feel the itch, the bites begged him to scratch at them. As if his bitten nails could somehow get rid of the ugly, nasty red that surrounded them. Nope. Not today, sir. I know better. The brunette thought to himself as he shoved his hands deep into his hoody’s pockets. “It’s, uh, we just go North here, I think.” Biscotti murmured to Jangle as she slapped another branch aside.

She knew where she was going so felt zero need to listen to her trainer. The words of the gym leader echoed in his head—it was time to establish himself as an equal. And, he’d totally done it once. In the other world, his cat had listened to his orders. At some point, respect had bloomed between them. “Jangle—!” Biscotti called out to the Incineroar as he turned in the direction he thought was right. “We need to go this way. C'mon.” His eyes looked like a kicked labrador, begging his friend to listen to him.

With a suspicious glance at the sun—which was totally not pointing they were going north. But she wouldn’t stop him from wandering in circles if that’s what he wanted. As they continued onward, Biscotti jerked back with a noise of surprise. Something had just jerked his head back. “Jangle!” His scold sputtered as he realized the cat was nowhere near him. So, what had just—oh!


A quick glance behind him revealed a confused, yellow dinosaur thing. It was chewing on a patch of his hair. It looked distinctly dissatisfied. “You, uh, know that’s not food, right, bud?” The chewing continued as the Bayleef swallowed. Kind of creeped out by its determination, Scotti backed away from it into the woods proper.

SKIPPING

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[attr="class","bisc"]This guy’s cracked. Maybe the heat got to him?Sure, he expected a bit of gratitude. But this was too much. Even if the fact that the guy seemed to be worshipping baked goods drew a chuckle. “Saved your life? I wouldn't go that far, man.” His cheeks reddened as the weirdo pledged undying fealty. “We donate the leftovers anyway.” He busied himself at the counter in an attempt to stop the gratitude from getting to him. “And, yeah, I’ll call you up if I ever need either of those.” Even if he doubted the favor would be useful, Scotti didn’t want to offend the guy.

It was probably hard enough having a useless degree. All that learning about ancient stuff, and you couldn’t even find food in a desert. If this encounter helped him do one thing, it was narrowing down his majors. At the talk of incredible, Biscotti’s eyes dropped to the counter. They looked like normal croissants to him. But he’d never eaten one out of a can. “Really?” Pre-made baked goods in their house? His mother would rather die. “The croissants are pretty easy to make.”

At this point, his cheeks were just going to stay red. When he tried replying the first time, a few words of embarrassed Paldean spilled out. He paused to reset. “I, uh, appreciate the compliment?” But he’d never been a wizard guy. He preferred sorcerors. “But there’s no sugar in these.” Pulling on a pair of gloves, Biscotti pulled out two croissants. He laid both on the counter in front of Howard, each wrapped in a store-branded napkin.

The insistence made Scotti nod. “I totally will! Promise!” He turns toward the window. A cookie appeared in his mouth. He nibbled on it as he tried to find some way to make this guy feel less useless. As a terminally ill kid, he totally knew what that felt like. “You up for scaring away some Zubat?” Judging by the fact that his Hawlucha hadn’t come down, his attempts had been a grade-A failure.

Typical Scotti. Always the dorky groomsman, never the bride—er, groom.

howard slayte

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[attr="class","bisc"]It was hard not to look crestfallen. Like super-duper hard. It really sucked that he hadn’t been able to prove his point to Shalin—that you didn’t need to create an abomination to make a difference.

But he didn’t want to seem like a sore loser. So, he returned the handshake, Then, he just let Josh’s words wash over him like a tsunami. His lips were frozen into a half-hearted, timid smile. Trying to keep up with the gym leader’s words left his head spinning. “I’ve had Jangle pretty much my whole life.” Not that it’d been an intentional acquisition. Just a toddler spotting a scared cat in the rain and refusing to let go.

His next words were sullen with a hint of debate. Even as he said them, Scotti couldn’t help but feel they were childish. “And I don’t think that’s right. I mean it’s silly to assume I’m right, isn’t it?” A hand rose to shove an errant strand behind his ear. “Who knows them better than themselves?” Though, even as he said it, the brunette had to wonder how accurate his statement was. His mom knew waaaay more about how he worked than he did.

The Pyroar ride did a lot to perk him up. As they rode, Biscott listened to his advice. He felt his cheeks redden at the initial assertion. He’d actually put a lot of thought into his team. What he thought would work and what wouldn’t. Heck, Chugga’s whole move set changed in preparation for this battle. It just turned out strategy wasn’t his thing. Once he dismounted, he turned to face the gym leader. “You, uh, gave me a lot to think about, Mister D.” A nod and an awkward wave served as his farewell. “Thanks.”

A lot of people would have gotten motivated by coming that close. Biscotti? Well, he’d be leaving the gym stuff to the real trainers for a while.

Josh Devlin

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[attr="class","bisc"]Biscotti's family had never been big on people. They were city people. Or, at least, everybody but dad was. The most wilderness exposure they got was an occasional trip to the beach or a dinner at the Rainforest Cafe. Which is why it was kind of weird to find Biscotti out wandering the woods.

But he'd fallen into the camping rabbit hole on Instagram. He'd watched all kinds of cool videos about clean water straws and rigged up cooktops. But it turned out he couldn't even put up a tent on his own. After getting one spike in the ground, he'd smashed his thumb with a hammer. "Ah, shoot." And while, like everything else, it didn't hurt, it looked pretty scary.

When he asked Jangle to help, the Incineroar just took the hammer and snorted.

Then, he'd somehow grabbed an empty can of bug spray. So, he was already covered in mosquito bites. After just a few hours in Petalburg, Scotti tossed in the towel. And, with Jangle beside him, began the long, disappointing journey home.

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[attr="class","bisc"]The brunette was stunned. He didn’t expect to see his fire cat emerge victorious. Not against a giant water monster, anyway. As the thump of the fallen Swampert faded, he released a delayed whop of exaltation. “Whoo!” He almost squealed. “Great job, JJ!” Then, he remembered there was a person there. A pretty, female person.

His cheeks flared red. The Incineroar rolled her eyes—sad she couldn’t give that axolotl some accolades. “Me too.” The boy murmured. “Thank you. Me too—uh—you too.” By the time he regained his senses, Scotti was standing there. An undistributed coupon sat forgotten in his hands.

nabi park

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