"Are you okay?" the playful smile drops in an instant when he hears the ther man say something about the last one hurting. Was there a rock in it he didn't see? Had he hit him in the face when he wasnt meaning to?

Evan's already hopping over the back of the bench and heading in Lars' direction. Worry apparent on his face because the last thing he wanted to have happen was the other man getting hurt.

That was entirely against the point of a snowball fight.

Laurence Anderson

Evan is already returning to the front desk where he keeps the keys for the rooms and plucking it off the caribeaner that keeps them together. He tosses lars the one to the same room he had stayed in before. It shoulder ready for him when he enters. Not to mention it's the only one that's in good shape right now.

"I'll find us something to eat. Take your time though okay?" his smile is soft when he turns to head towards the kitchen, rubbing his hand against the back of his neck. The whole thing feels like a mess.

Evan hates the anxiety he feels building in his stomach when he thinks about how this isn't the first time he's let lars stay the night like this.

Laurence Anderson

Evan was already overjoyed at just the idea of the bar getting a good word out with someone that might actually be able to help put them on the radar again. The fact he mentioned bringing up the 'inn' part as well took him by surprise. It was the least used part of the Stray at the moment and the thought they might actually get some traffic upstairs was more than he was expecting.

"That'd..... that would be such a huge help Lars. You have no idea. I know I'm managing to keep the place afloat but it's been difficult getting things under control so I could figure out to really make this place flourish like it used to."

He moves his hands off his glass as if to gesture with them but puts them back, not sure what to say. He's at a loss for words. It's one thing when people simply do it but to offer to go out of his way to mention the stray in particular?

"If you ever need anything, let us know. It's the least I could do for you being so willing to talk about the old place. I hope we can live up to whatever you tell anyone."

Laurence Anderson

He would be content to write things off as coincidence, dramatic and well pegged guesses. Anything but truth. The sound of a pokemon being released makes him stand, he turns.

The Orion produces his own Type: Null and Evan curses under his breath at the sight of it. There's no dancin around it now, there's not avoiding the truth when it's standin right in front of them. They both have a monster at their feet.

Evan runs a hand through his hair as if that might help him settle his nerves but it does't. "You know, that doesn'y really make me feel better." he chuckles, reigning himself in when he feels the helmet of his creature bump the back of his knees.

"What in the hell are you doing with one of these?" that's the phanpy in the room after all, isn't it?

Orion Lykos

"Good, this may take awhile."

"Aaaaand you might not be up for a lot of rangering when I'm done with you."

There's something a little extra playful in his smirk as he makes his way to the fridge for the first of many treats on the line up. Evan's been at it most the day, experimenting, trial and erroring the many things he hasn't made in awhile.

He brings out a sweet little slice of cheesecake, already plated and chilled. Two pecha pieces stick out the top in the shape of a heart. The rest are sliced down and adorn the top of the cake before falling off it like a little waterful of sweet love.

"Pecha cheesecake to start, this'll be the big special for the week."

Laurence Anderson

Parties like this couldn't be passed up, after all they were the perfect opportunty to advertise the Stray and get people coming through the old streets of Rustboro looking for it again. Especially when he was a bartender that knew how to put on a show.

The adult portion of the open bar, catered and watched over carefully by watchful red-black eyes, was a flurry of entertainment while the man made a show of mixing everyone's drink (adult and not alike, he was just having a little fun). It wasn't until he spotted a familiar speck of blond that there was a break in the pleasant flowing conversation surrounding him.

Evan whistles at the sight of Laurence Anderson, winking when he gets his attention before returning to the people surrounding him. His grin is surprisingly wide and his appearance seems to be attracting a mix of looks. The loose tank and tailored shorts seem to be helping a bit.

Laurence Anderson, mostly

His hands won't stop shaking.

Evan closes his eyes and quiets them, makes them steady as he reaches for another branch of ice. Cold and solid beneath his touch, it is leverage for well placed foot falls. He does not walk with the clunk of his boots today, the exadrill skin clinging to bottom of his feet allow him to tread the terrain with only the worry of the cold.

That is why he moves fast, well practiced, well traveled. As if this ice cold cave were a home as much as the warmth of his wooden tavern walls. As if it were as familiar as the dirt of the forest beneath his feet. As if it were as soothing as the water of the river washing over his toes on a summer day.

For the earth itself is the only home he has ever known.

But gods his hands won't stop shaking.

He releases the fire type in small intervals. The Volcarona's heat does well to keep him from going numb as he huddles in his jacket, the only other companion at his side the mimkyu who has followed him since the beginning of time. His time, at least. They are one in the same, it is only natural that they face the legend together, for without her there would be no him, and without him she would hold no purpose.

Growing too warm becomes a burden, it makes him sleepy, it makes his mind wander to better things. To sitting by the fire in the winter, to welcoming the travelers to his small shelter. To sweets being roasted over the campfire, to the smell of the wood burning in the late hours of the night. His eyes fall at the sight of the stars above his clearing, the thought that they would be there if he looked up and looked hard enough.

The cold makes him weary, his target makes him anxious. Feet move heavy against the frozen earth but they move. They move and they ache and they begin to tremble the same as his hands and his Mimikyu must rise to meet him. Her shadow correcting faulty steps, creating footholds as he needs them, making the climb where he cannot. She leads him to nooks and crannies, small hiding places, short lived shelters to recover his warmth. They sneak past the frozen pokemon that call the cave home, he is quick to avoid them where they might disturb them.

Fuck he thinks when a pebble falls from his slipping foot and alarms a pokemon that watches him too closely. That eyes the mimikyu perched on his shoulder but the chittering deters it. They are not here for a fight, they are here to see. She guides him away swiftly, the detour is long but the battle is avoided.

It seems like the further they go the longer it takes.
But he will not be deterred, he does not look to fight.

Evan Fader is lost in his mind, dancing about the thoughts of what he might find when he comes upon it. Cold, shaking, anxiety filling his body. He knew they were real but there had been a hope in his mind he would not see it tonight, that he would not come upon it like this.

He does. He walks forward. He buckles beneath the wind, knee finding ice and rising from it just as quickly. When he looks at the bird it is with wonder and worry and false eyes.

There are others here, to make their offerings, to make their sacrifices, to make whatever it is they might have to offer. Whatever they thought the old god could possibly want. Evan an only stand in wonder, features cloaked in shock and disbelief. And then, in telltale Evan fashion, he laughs.

Happy, worried, shaking like his hands.

"They have so much to offer you don't they?" he manages to grin at the bird, looking down at his hands a moment later. As if he might find something there, in the roughness, in the callouses from work upon the earth. "And here I am just a drop of water amongst them aren't I?"

One you have already rejected once, right?

Still shaking.
Evan reaches for his eyes as he speaks. "If my people are to be believed, I cannot receive your gift, for it has already been given to me. They call me, my kind, the children you have all chosen, god touched."

He no longer looks upon the god with false eyes, the red-black lens sitting in his shaking palm. One eye seeks the bird, bright blue, as blue as the feathers upon its back.

"And if it is to be believed, I am one that you have already rejected." why? "Maybe that's for the better, because if you have been watching you know what I am capable of." it knows how far he fell could fall, will fall- "And you know what I have done to change that." words on paper mean everything and nothing all at once. Actions mean things and fall to the nothingness of lost memories- what are they worth? Anything? "You know what I hope to continue to do."

"I cannot give you anything that has not already been offered. I cannot give you promises that I do not know I will be able to keep."

His eyes wander now, mismatched and seeking somewhere to sit. A place to perch himself much the same as his mimikyu does herself upon his shoulder. She chitters at him when there is nothing, a shadow forming in the place of a rock, somewhere for him to rest his feet.

"But what I can give you, is every story that I have ever heard about you. What I can give you is the legends that have been saved and loved in the years that have come to be and been lost."

"I do not ask for your gift in return."
his lungs feel shaky in the cold,
he takes a breath almost too deep.
"Because I do not need it to change the world."

"All I ask for is the chance to ask a question,
and to hear its answer."

"And if for some- forsaken reason"
he laughs, amused by the thought.
"You choose me, I will seek the answer for myself."

It is moments like these that Evan is grateful for the red-black contacts he wears, masking the sharp glance he gives the other man behind a blank one but there no denying the narrowing of his eyes when he looks over his shoulder. Not because he's right or wrong or anything in between, but because the point had been not to look into it further. To pry further.

Evan has to remind himself that not everyone knows the rules.

"Can't say that's a name I know well." he dances around it, unwilling to outright admit anything. Words becomes weapons too easily and though he thinks well of Orion his past tells him to be careful. The old whispers prance about his ears.

The man crouches next to his monstrosity, a hand on it's back seems to keep its attention on him. For a second however, it stares past Evan at the man behind him, as if it too is just as on edge.

Orion Lykos

"So you rebuilt it from the ground up then?" he asks, curiosity apparent on his face, how he leans an elbow on the table and rests his chin in his hand.

For a moment though, the offer catches him by surprise. That kind of advertising, word of mouth, was crucial to helping ensure the Stray continued to boom and bustle. It would keep them from being lost in the hubbub of the city and changing pace of the region. Something that he himself was still getting the hang of and figuring out how to work around.

"That would be fantastic! I imagine may of them would feel right at home here." Evan grins. "And if not we'll find a way to make them feel at home, we always do." because that was part of coming to the Stray wasn't it? The variety, the coziness, everyone belonged somehow. Evweryone was greeted with a smile.

"But really, you don't have to go out of your way for us, we're managing alright. I've still got to figure out a plan of attack for advertising myself anyway."

Laurence Anderson

"No, consider it part of the thank you." as if he'd make or allow the man to pay him anything, at this point the two of them have too much familiarity between them for that anyway.

As for deliveries and such Evan can't be certain, though the weather wasn't as bad now as it had been earlier in the evening he can't imagine many would be willing. "Couldn't tell you, might be better to raid the fridge. There's a shower in each room, you're welcome to use them as much as any guest would." because he was still mostly just a guest.

Right?

Right.

Evan tucks the blanket around Lars' shoulders one more time.

Laurence Anderson

One hits his shoulder mid duck, the other flies right over his head and he's laughing on his way down. The two of them must look like children by now, playing in the schoolyard. Evan doesn't dwell on the image long before gathering up more snow. He peaks over the edge of the bench and waits, watching for the other man to stand again to take his chance.

When he's certain he'll hit true he throws, aiming to get Lars square in the chest.

Laurence Anderson

Lars plays it off and Evan turns away from him. he can't keep his eyes on the other man at the moment, feeling like he's stuck in a box more than usual. Too often he's like a stray pokemon, a glameow wanting to pace back and forth until someone opens the window and lets him out. He feels that now more than usual, he feels like he needs to jump back out into the snow.

"Right, of course. Who wouldn't right?" he looks at him with a smile, though there's something stiff about it. It's not quite how he normally is. It doesn't change the fact that Evan does not take hand outs he gives them.

It does not change the fact that he does not deserve them, and yet here he is, facing one.

"Anyway, did you want to stay in one of the rooms in the second floor again?" he's making conversation more than anything.

Laurence Anderson

Evan turns in time for the clump of snow to make contact with his chest, bursting outwards across his torso. The man laughs, it's the best case scenario, he's been taken up on the challenge. And more than that it proves something far more crucial, something that makes it a little more worthwhile to maybe visit the hotsprings with the other man.

He's willing to have a little fun.

"You'll need to do better than that."

He reaches for an extra scoops of snow, making this one much bigger than before. The man darts behind a bench with a surprising swiftness compared to his usually clunky footsteps. He's putting effort in for once.

Red devil eye emerge from the hiding place, throwing the next snowball before ducking down to make yet another.

Laurence Anderson