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POSTED ON Oct 25, 2019 20:54:53 GMT

[attr="class","knoxpost"]"and too full of yourself," he teases as the last of the tension leaks away from them. captain settles comfortably against him, lightly snoring in his ear. he smiles complacently. there's no forced vibrance, no harking too-loud laugh that follows. this is genuine. this is real. this is knox.

"i'm sure someone'll take him off your hands," he says. or she could turn the thing in for the good of rocket, but he knows she won't. she has standards. somehow. still.

he nods.

the rest of the walk is peacefully silent, only broken when mauville looms above them. darkness has broken at this point and it's definitely cold. the fingers not entwined with eden's are frigid, stiff and shoved in his pocket.

he leads her to the meeting place, reaches into a trash can and uncovers the suitcase containing a few pokeballs.

"now we just gotta move it. let's get this over with."

x x x
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POSTED ON Oct 24, 2019 23:36:43 GMT

[attr="class","knoxpost"]they're said with care and still it takes a lot to not make him bristle. he's since grown tired of accusations, of shedding his failings to light. and hates, hates, hates the guilt that twinges in his stomach. because she has every right to ask.

he scrunches his nose and rolls his eyes instead, squeezes her hand. "'course i will, hadley. you're not exactly forgettable."

the walk is easy, though it gets colder as the sun begins to set. he opts to bring blue back in her ball and leaves lena to explore the path ahead of them. captain snuggles into the crook of his neck, tail lazing on eden's shoulder as they walk side by side.

"she hasn't changed much," he says as he turns his head to nuzzle her with his cheek. "how about the rest of your team, hm?"

x x x
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POSTED ON Oct 24, 2019 0:11:12 GMT

[attr="class","knoxpost"]they used to be thick as thieves, the three of them. but that was a long, long time ago. back before they could have even imagined understanding this fucked up world they're forced to live in.

it had jaded one of them, consumed the second, and...he looks sideways at eden. he doesn't know how she's doing, not really. it's always been this way. he'd called himself her friend, her family, but has he ever been able to do much more than scratch the mask she wears?

"something like that," he says and then sheepishly looks up. "i don't really remember much of it, to be honest." but i'm sober now. that's not going to happen again.

(but it is.)

(it will.)

x x x
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freefall [c]

POSTED ON Oct 24, 2019 0:06:07 GMT

[attr="class","knoxpost"]he hadn't been there at the shouting match, at the demoting that followed. at the embarrassment, at the declaration of failure, the beginning of his misery. (but he's free now, isn't he? free to do what he wants.) (why, then, is he still so desperate to struggle in his father's shadow?)

the lights are bright inside and knox winces, but he follows ollie like a puppy. the doors start to close even though he's only a heel behind and he scowls at the man's attempt at leaving him, opens his mouth to make some sort of crude remark when he hears, again,

red? or...?

and he thinks of summer, of red, and she's there right beside his father, sneering as he leers down at him. and he thinks of that night, standing in front of a grainy bathroom mirror, blood dribbling down his nose, dabbing it with a paper towel, saying it's fine it's fine. just one more bump and i'm done for the night.

and of the red. lacerations on his arms and a desperate, final attempt to make the whole world right. (but he was wrong and it was wrong and living's a whole lot better than dying. that's what he found out. that's what he learned).

and all of this is on his face as he's staring at the grey linoleum of the elevator wall, as he's (un)-seeing his and ollie's reflections.

and then he comes to, cod-slacked jaw snapping shut. "oh, it's gonna take you more than that, oh." he snickers. "once 'pon a time, you'da been swooning to find me at your door."

x x x
ollie morales

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processed shop

POSTED ON Oct 22, 2019 17:36:53 GMT

shiv likes this

-75 pd for jolteon pls <3

SHIV / -75PD

 
JOLTEON / QUICK FEET
discharge, pin missile, agility, wish, thunderbolt, protect

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POSTED ON Oct 22, 2019 17:34:24 GMT

[attr="class","knoxpost"]he quietly sucks in a breath. it's a defense mechanism, he knows, but it's hard for him to smile back at her. he bites his lip, crow's feet crinkling around his eyes as he forces himself anyway. crooked, lopsided, boyish. most don't see past it.

he scans through the document and then messages it to her. the pokemon originated from slateport and the distributor is trying to move them up north, to a buyer in lavaridge. they're only meant to pick up on the south side of mauville and drop off the suitcase to a vendor that'll move them the rest of the way.

he's used to shit like this. it's a lot easier to move cargo when it's already been captured. he almost prefers the stolen pokemon over the poached wilds--there's less hassle. eden, he's sure, doesn't share the same mentality.

he looks at her sideways as they walk. "seen ollie morales lately?"

x x x
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freefall [c]

POSTED ON Oct 22, 2019 17:24:39 GMT

[attr="class","knoxpost"]that ruffles his feathers. he's used to feeling unwelcome, uninvited, unwanted. but his reaction is only to burn brighter and so the supernova implodes and he rises up, chest filling, million dollar smile lighting up his features.

it's too wrong and too much, but he's too fucked up to care (or notice). ollie had stumbled back from his touch and his offer to help, but he's made the fatal mistake of unlocking the door to the condo complex.

and so as soon as the outer gate buzzes, knox reaches for the handle and swings it open wide.

red?

he shakes his head, knows he's just hearing voices. he gestures grandly. ollie has the option to stand here and refuse to show knox which of these lovely complexes is his own, but the other man surely knows at this point that the prescott can and will wait out the rest of the day and night before giving up and going home.

x x x
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dust [c]

POSTED ON Oct 22, 2019 17:20:08 GMT

[attr="class","knoxpost"]tw: drug use

lights flash over his eyes and he disappears in those too-big pupils. shimmering and reflective. he laughs at the crystalline moment, laced with acidic colors.

and he does. there's something in the air that gives the other man a glow. it's sweat and heat and the dancing lights, casting minute shadows. his hands still grace his hips, but they flutter up his sides and he tells him with touch what he likes.

the small of his back, exposed when he turns just the right way. scarce touches on the underside of his arms, teasing and light, as he watches him suckle his lower lip. his own lips part and a static ripples over him. he shivers.

the music gets louder, blurred, and he twitches, feels the blocked ache in his nose.

and then he pulls back his hand; slender fingers touch his tongue, sink into the powder in his pocket. his eyes are half-lidded now and he's watching the other boy's lips as he offers a taste.

x x x
Spencer Hale

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dust [c]

POSTED ON Oct 21, 2019 20:01:20 GMT

[attr="class","knoxpost"]he is in past and future. back then, hair bubblegum pink and green, fading blue. watermelon, strawberry--cute little nicknames from femboys. future is peacock blue and green, touches of black, starlight gray. or is it present?

fingers twist in his hair and he hums in the back of his throat. his hands aren't his own, but they're feeling fabric drawn taut over a lanky body, hips swaying from side to side.

he twists, catches the man's wrist, dapples fingertips down his arm. touch my shoulder, pull me closer. his breath is warm as he leans in. "i like yours too." he nips at the locks curling behind his ear, draws back with a wink.

x x x
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POSTED ON Oct 21, 2019 19:56:18 GMT

[attr="class","knoxpost"]he enjoys the moment all that he can. his heart swells and he clings to it as much as he can; tenacious fingers grasp until eden speaks again. he wants to pretend like they could stay this way, like they could get up and look forward to where they're going.

their vacation comes at a cost. maybe not at them, but to someone. usually he's not so rattled by it; usually he's able to put some distance between himself and the things that he does.

his arm twinges.

"now's as good a time as any." he untangles himself from her, though not unkindly, and holds his arm down for captain. the pikachu is cross about losing her warm cuddles, but she complies nonetheless and scampers up to settle on his shoulder.

"it's some smuggling job," he says and tugs out his phone so he can bring up the briefing. "standard shit. we're just gonna be the middlemen."

x x x
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POSTED ON Oct 21, 2019 18:14:39 GMT

[attr="class","knoxpost"]he snorts, lifts his head so that she can better nestle against him. and then he places his chin atop her crown and sighs.

this is different than his drunken flings, than his meaningless touches. this isn't passion or heartache or a desperate attempt to feel something. this is real.

he knows he loves her. has, since they were kids. you don't go through the same shit and not find a family in the chaos.

he breathes out. her hair tickles his nose.

blue and lena finally make their way back to him and greet the trainer with just as much warmth as captain had. and he can't help but smile, genuinely this time. none of his pompous exorbitance; no dagger-teeth, steel-glinted eyes.

(it will end soon. quicker than he knows. his mood will tumble and his body will begin its shaking and he won't be able to stop his succumbing. he will go under and he will stumble and he knows that there is a very, very real chance that he will drag her with him.)

but he is content now, in this moment, thinking that things might turn out for the better.

x x x
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POSTED ON Oct 21, 2019 17:54:57 GMT

[attr="class","knoxpost"]he knows the answer. he shouldn't have asked. they are both what they have been made to be. broken girl hiding behind a pretty smile. pretty boy hiding behind a sheet of powdered snow.

he flexes his hand. phantom bruises feel pained on smooth-skin knuckles. it hadn't been the drugs or the failures that had cut him off from the prescott fortune. it'd been that one moment of solidarity, of blood in his cheek and on his knuckles and his father's split lip dribbling as he spat his rage.

disobedience. he'd gotten what he deserved.

he doesn't know if he's better off, but he knows for certain he shouldn't be one to offer advice.

so all he can do is feel sorry for her and let his heart twinge at the mask she must wear to survive. because he knows.

he places a hand back on hers and squeezes. "come with me. to mauville for the job. we'll have ourselves a vacation."

don't go home yet.

x x x
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POSTED ON Oct 21, 2019 17:39:26 GMT

[attr="class","knoxpost"]"of course not," he says, and he means it. the two of them make a good team. or they did, at least. they're estranged acquaintances at this point, comfortable only because of their history. but there's a restlessness that accompanies their companionship right now. things have happened over the years.

it's the first time he frowns since she sat down beside him. empathy has his own stomach hurting. captain squirms when she traps her under her head, but relaxes when knox hushes under his breath.

softly, he follows with, "what happened?"

x x x
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POSTED ON Oct 21, 2019 15:12:46 GMT

[attr="class","knoxpost"]but is hiding truly a vacation? when the very nature of their jobs is to skulk in the shadows? to watch those who don't see them? (not that he does a good job of staying inconspicuous.

he's not happy then, but he wasn't happy when he was sipping martinis on his father's yacht in lilycove's harbor, with models on his hips and summer just waiting for him to fuck up on the sidelines.

he rubs his eyes.

"naturally," he says. he shakes his head. and then she offers him a place and he laughs churlishly, bats his lashes at her.

"taking pity on me, i see." he stretches and leans back onto his elbows. "don't you worry 'bout me, hadley. i'm a prescott. the pretty prescott. i'm sure someone'll share their bed with me while i'm in town."

x x x
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