"Can't just ignore gang activity." Said Doug as he leaned against the boulder, throwing one arm atop it to take a look at the entrance before rolling his eyes. Still empty.

"Comes with the job." He had put on the proverbial uniform and enjoyed the privileges that came with it- he wasn't going to ignore the duties attached to it.

Dressed in a yet another league-issued suit, one more suitable for the weather what with the thick trench coat, he grinned at Angelo, whose hands were so far into his pockets he doubted he could even grab a deck.

"Ya okay over there, bud?" He asked with a chuckle, crossing his gloved hands over his chest. "Not regretting yer choices or anything? Don't got a deck on me- but I don't think it would matter if I did."

---

TAG: angelo vestri

“Never thought I’d see the day,” he mumbles with false whimsy, looking to the sky as his breath turns to smoke. “Little Dougie growing up.” This teenager that stood next to him seemed to be a far cry from the kid that tripped face first into his camp some time ago. Now he was officially league, with smart attire to go along with it and a new air of responsibility. Angelo wasn’t sure whether to be a proud or not.

What he was sure about though, was that he was a little bit salty about those gloves and coat being flaunted in his face. Alto Mare had a similar climate to Hoenn and so Angelo had not been prepared for the sudden implementation of snow. It also didn’t help that he didn’t really own a proper coat, instead having stuck a hoodie on underneath his regular denim jacket but it turned out that did little to fend off a temperature he wasn’t climatised to. He pulls the hood over his head to try and protect his ears from getting too red.

“Let’s just say that my eyes aren’t the only thing that’s blue…” He grumbles, lips curling slyly a little at the corners, before pulling his hands out of his pockets and wiggling his digits. “Just look at my poor fingers.” That wasn’t what he was joking about; although his hands certainly were feeling numb.

“No. No regrets here. But if we could go inside the cave and ambush them in there, that would be preferable.” He stomps his feet a little in the snow to warm himself up. To be honest, standing around is getting to both his bones and his patience. “Unless the league was nice enough to supply you with a second pair of gloves? Maybe? To gift to a friend and loyal Bug Fanatic for Christmas? That would be good of them.” Angelo brings his hands to his face and breathes air onto his prickling fingers, attempting to bring a little life back into them.

John Sullivan

"Nah, but luckily for ya, Dougie here came prepared, wise guy." He said with a snort while reaching into his jacket, producing a netball before casually throwing it over Angelo's shoulder.

The place around them suddenly got much warmer, and rather quickly.

A Volcarona hovered behind the other youth silently, staring them both down before her gaze focused onto Doug.

"'Ey love. Mind hanging around my bud'ere for a bit? Guy's fingers are about to fall off." He said, waggling his finger at her to get closer before gesturing with the same finger at Angelo.

The Volcarona tilted her head slightly at the request before slowly inching closer to the youth. She didn't really need to press against him, or even come uncomfortably close.

Being near her was akin to being near a bonfire.

"There. No we don't gotta go in and ruin my suit again." He said dryly as he leaned against the boulder, throwing both hands behind his head and smirking.

Clearly, he had taken previous events to heart.

"Found any use for that stone that nearly killed us, by the way?" He said after a moment, glancing at the other youth.

---

TAG: angelo vestri

Angelo didn’t have a fire pokemon. He’d consider catching one but since the snow was not destined to last, he hadn’t bothered to seek one out just for heating purposes – thankfully Doug was prepared. It wasn’t long before their small corner was pleasantly heated by the Volcarona and Angelo’s fingers were starting to warm, loosing their cold ache.

“Oh, yeah. Your suit. Let's not ruin another one if we can help it, then.” Angelo wouldn't have been surprised if the original suit hadn't survived, it had been pretty scuffed up after the last cave incident, after all. That thing probably cost more than everything in Angelo’s backpack and more, hopefully the League offered a free dry-cleaning service for their upstanding new members. Doug better not have been made to foot the bill; the thought made him cringe at the potential price tag.

“Evolved my Togetic, Ankaa. Well, she’s a Togekiss now, so your sacrifice wasn’t in vain.” He says, his back pressed against the stone, the Vocarona in between the two young men as they kept warm and waited for their targets. Angelo fell silent for a moment then, considering and contemplating before falling into conversation again by turning the question back on him. “What about you? League been treating you well? Other than giving you the fancy official uniform, of course.”

It seemed like the bandits would take a beat or two longer, no sounds could be heard at all from the cavern mouth close by, so it wouldn’t hurt to catch up with the teenager a little. See how he was doing, when their last meetup had evolved the Bug Catcher returning from a memorial…

John Sullivan

"I have healthcare now." Said the youth after thinking it over for a second, shrugging his shoulders while cupping his chin. "Got mandatory self-defense lessons, too. Gotta fly to Verdanturf later for my morning lessons tomorrow."

In retrospective, he had gotten a lot out of the league other than his nice suit.

Though perhaps not as much as most people would have liked.

"Seems like a dream come true... but I still live in a tent." He said, snorting. "It's great if ya fly solo and don't mind roughin' it out in the sticks."

His wage was good- better than the nothing he had before, but it was still a public servant's wage, and not the politician's variety.

"Guess it don't matter. I don't stay in one place often enough for a house to be useful." He said finally. "What about you? How's the jewel thief-slash-hobo trainer life going?"

---

TAG: angelo vestri

“Wow. Looks like you made it.” He responded, light but not at all sarcastic, his mouth curling into a kinder grin. It’s only the tiniest bit forced. Angelo can’t help the envious spark in his gut, everything Doug saying sounding like a dream that he could have but decided not to reach out for. It was a complicated thing, being genuinely happy for another’s success while at the same time wishing you had the same, knowing that you can’t. “Nothing wrong with the tent life. I don’t know how I’m going to go back to house living, some day.” Doug was a good kid. Angelo was sure he’d do well.

“Fine,” looking down at his fingers, he flexes and clenches his joints, distracting himself from the question that he personally isn’t too fond of. “Still living in a tent. Still cycling around, picking up extra jobs here and there… No healthcare, though. But you can’t have it all.” Thankfully he’s used to bottling up his discontent and replacing it with a smile.

He lets out a breath that borders on a sigh, smoke rising into the air as the heat touches the cold perimeter of the Volcarona’s warmth, watching it rise skyward for a moment before the sound of echoes – whispered through the walls – float from the direction of the cave. Blue eyes slip over to Doug and Angelo reaches into his pocket, giving the Bug Catcher a nod, as he pulls out a capsule.

They’d arrived right on time. He needed to vent his frustrations somehow.

“Ready to put your self-defence lessons to good use, buddy?”

John Sullivan

"Nope. Healthcare doesn't prevent pain." Said the boy dryly, before lazily gesturing at his Volcarona with his neck. "Yer up."

Not a particularly thorough order, but one that was rather easy to grasp.

Though perhaps the Volcarona was a tad too eager to obey.

Her wings flapped rapidly as she swooped forward with a delighted screech, elegant arcs and pirouettes leaving trails of ash in her wake.

Ash that seemed to turn the Winter wasteland into a fiery fire storm.

Her fiery dance only grew in intensity as her flapping wings commanded the burning ash, sparks flying as ash came into contact with ash, becoming an infernal wave of flames.

"... Um. You can be a little less up." Said the bugcatcher from behind the rock, eyes wide as sauzers.

He didn't think humans could quite deal with all that...

"Um." He said, rather, uttered as he met Angelo's blue eyes. "Got a water type in there? Our, uh, criminal friends might need its help."

---

TAG: angelo vestri

It seemed that the Volcarona was more emblazed for the fight than he was. Heat began to ripple out, fierce and bordering on sweat inducing as the snow melted. Angelo rolled his jacket sleeves up his arms towards his elbows.

He’s about to respond in kind, his fingers itching for the fight, temptation telling him to summon a formidable beast of his own to meld with the fire storm – to not be left behind. But Angelo’s hand stills in his pocket, calloused digits grazing the familiar shape of a capsule, before Doug’s voice makes him reconsider his choice. Ah, guess he’d have to play damage control instead…

“Don’t worry,” he breathes out, masking his slight curl of disappointment with a reassuring grin. “I’ve got you covered. No shortage of water types here.”

Instead of a towering sun moth, when the beam of light vanishes a blue bird materialises at the Volcarona’s side within the air, huge green eyes looking bewildered to the fiery carnage. Grus was a far cry from the Gyarados or Nidoking that he had been tempted to bring out to play.

There’s the sound of splashing – someone yelps as they slip in the slush – as the bandits begin pouring out of the cavern mouth and Grus backs up the Volcarona by releasing a HYDRO PUMP, steam of water colliding into some of the smugglers and knocking a few off their feet. “Grus! The fossils!” Angelo points out as some of the chunks of rock scatter out of reach and into a puddle, the Cramorant swooping through the air to try and snap them into her mouth.

Heart aquiver in excitement, corners of his mouth pulled into the hint of something wild, Angelo steps out from behind the rock, too. Some of their targets were still slippering in the melted snow, reaching for pokeballs and their stolen prizes. “Think you're as good at catching bandits as you are with bugs?” He muses, challenge curled into his tone, as the courier's gaze sweeps over the small gang.

Looks like a fight was in order.

John Sullivan

"Thanks mate! She tends to get outta hand recently!" He said, swiping his forehead in relief as the Cramorant's hydro pump created a haze of vapor all over the field.

She hadn't evolved too long ago, the extreme power she enjoyed now tended to get out of hand when combined with her new found joy for battle. Hopefully, it was something she would grow out of.

The youth rounded around the rock as Angelo did, cracking his knuckles as the other spoke.

"Never seen anyone struggle with an unconscious man- have you?" He said as he rolled up his shoulder, net in hand. "Don't let 'em get their pokemon's out! Hurricane!"

With the youth's order, the Volcarona screeched with delight as she spread her wings wide, before beginning to swipe them about wildly, powerful gales of wind being unleashed with each flap.

The Poocheynas' grunts were taken off their feet, screaming in a panic. It was hard to adjust to a sudden ambush- specially when so many powerful attacks were being thrown your way.

"Let's go! If they resist, knock 'em on their ass!" He said, acting like a proper cop.

Though to be fair, these were confirmed thugs.

---

TAG: angelo vestri

Angelo blanches, eyebrow quirked, as Doug shoots off a line straight from an old-school cop buddy film – while wielding a bug net. Watch out world!

The Poocheyna’s were not having a good day. First, they get a wave of heat, then the next minute they’re being pushed off their feet by jets of water and cyclones. It’s of little surprise that Grus makes easy pickings of their dropped fossils, the bird sweeping down and plucking the rocks from puddles, shoving them down her throat. It’s probably not the safest of storage places, Angelo considers only after the fact but by this point it’s too late and he’s a little too preoccupied.

No surprises, it turns out the thieves were the resisting types. Angelo had no qualms about following these orders.

“Knock 'em on their asses it is, then!”

It’s a bit of a mess. Some of the bandits have already been knocked out by their pokemon but a couple were scrambling to their feet, attempting to run, fight or reach for their own creature companions to help back them up. Reaching into his pocket to send a pokemon at a retreating back, Angelo feels something hard smack into his face, fire sparking across his nerves. Some fucker had just hit him…!

Forgetting the pokeball, Angelo clenched his fist and swung back, finding purchase in an opposing jaw. There’s a wild flash of satisfaction in ocean storm eyes as the bandit wobbles and then suddenly Grus is there, colliding into the man’s face in a flailing of wings and squawks, knocking him into the slush. Angelo leaves them to it, whirling around to instantly look for the young Bug Catcher, swiping at his bloodied nose with the back of his hand as he feels a hot tickle.

One of the grunts eyeing Doug from behind is reaching for a pokeball on their belt. Lunging, Angelo’s arm snags around their neck in a chokehold, other hand squeezing and twisting the wrist that had reached for a pokeball until the guy drops it into a puddle. “Doug, here! I've found a - oof - big bug just for you!” His voice growled out behind a clenched jaw, struggling and staggering as the gang member attempts to break free in his hold. Blue eyes glinted sharply, pointed at the Bug Catcher’s net, he hopes his message is clear – give him the net!

John Sullivan

It was a clusterfuck, but hey, at least his suit was still spotless.

Mothra had found a tad too much delight in whipping up a storm around the gang members, and even the ones who thought they were managing to get away found themselves with a none too pleasant surprise as they were quite literally sucked back into the storm by the hurricane that was quickly becoming a massive tornado.

Luckily for them, they were at the eye of the storm- were Angelo was getting into a slugger fest with the few members of the Poocheyenas thumb enough to not just drop on their knees and beg for the cuffs.

Oh well.

"You know, this is an expensive bug net." Doug said, complaining as he approached Angelo and the guy he had full nelson'd, rolling his net-swinging arm.

"What I'm trying to say is that it's pretty durable." He said, grinning at the full nelson'd guy.

And swinging it an arc.

A raising arc.

Straight into the man's gonads.

A very high pitched scream filled the air soon after.

"Oh, I didn't swing that hard, you baby." He said with a snort, whipping at his net with a hum as he stopped and looked around.

Whoever wasn't on the floor was in the air, screaming as the winds carried them about.

"I think we are doing pretty well!"

---

TAG: angelo vestri

“Then let’s get your money’s worth out of it,” Angelo countered back at the Bug Catcher as he idly saunters over, while he was left to practically wrestle with the bandit. He was getting pretty restless in his grip, no doubt he could sense the murderous intent in the air and Angelo could feel his muscles strain from attempting to keep him stationary for Doug’s approaching judgement. “Just don’t break it – the net – I mean.” He didn’t want to know how much replacing an expensive piece of special equipment would put someone back.

Turns out the net was very durable and Angelo, having seen Doug swing it around a couple of times in the past, swallows a not-so-sympathetic hiss as the improvised weapon lands true, straight in the Pooch’s pooch. There’s a high-pitched squawk and Angelo barely has to give the guy a shove, practically collapsing face first into the slush by himself.

He knew a certain, blonde sailor who would probably be incredibly proud of that swing. Shame she wasn’t here to participate in all the carnage.

“Speaking of, I don’t think he’ll be having any.” Angelo quips in as Doug calls the poor idiot a baby, crouching down to cuff the whimpering mess on the ground before rubbing his nose against his arm. Looked like the bleeding had pretty much stopped. Oh, the joys of having broken his nose way back in the past.

Standing back up, blue eyes sweep over the mess that they had made, looking at the knocked-out forms in the melted snow and a few more, conscious and screaming, caught up in the Volcarona’s winds. He lets out a little chuckle as Doug proclaims that they had done well. “Feel like letting them down? Or is your Volcarona having too much fun? I'd hate to interupt her.”

Something told Angelo they might be a little bit too dizzy from the hurricane to put up much more of a fight, anyway.

John Sullivan

"Fun or not, better let'em down 'fore accidents start happening." He said with a chuckle as he raised an arm, waving at his fire moth.

The giggling moth's attention was immediately drawn to her trainer, her head tilting slightly in acknowledgment. Doug's grin grew.

"Let'em down, sweetheart! Think we're don 'ere!" He said at her, drawing out a lamenting croon from her that was turned into a vibrant echo by the wind tunnel that surrounded them.

Surely enough however, the Volcarona began to work to counter her own winds the turbulent gales slowly dissipating.

The men landed upon the snow shortly after, carried down by the slowing winds. Unfortunately, more than a few accidents had already played out.

"At least they ain't dead." Said Doug, scratching at the back of his neck as he looked at each one of them, huffing. "You guys sure picked a rotten job."

The Poocheyenas were just a step below the Rockets on the scumbag-o-meter.

The youth glanced over his shoulder at Angelo, reaching into his jacket as he spoke.

"Ya got the cuffs they gave us, right?" He said as he produced his own set. "Let's finish this and hit the pub!"

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TAG: angelo vestri