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Leaning further onto the banister, a pensive look creased his youthful features. A member of the Elite Four? Thus far, he had already spoken to a councilor and the commissioner herself, so it was unfathomable that this man would be here to chide him for Mauville yet again. Certainly he wouldn't have to run the gambit of League leadership for that one transgression.
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And he had 'jokes.'
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''Got slapped into the ground by a pissed off trevenant. What's your excuse? You look like a peanut filled growlithe shit on a bad stretch of road, cyclops.'' The ribombee hovered through the doorway to float over the boy's shoulder, waiting for some command, but looking tense. It didn't want to have to endure another shouting match, or fight to throw someone off the property.
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Again.
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''You didn't come to whine about that Mauville shit, right? I made an arrangement with Goode. No more bitching about that.'' Of course with as little control as the League had on literally any situation in which it was involved, it was entirely possible that any element operated of their own volition and with little consequence. Speaking of...
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''Already did my time for it,'' he added, a growing edge on his words. ''That cock smoker Silph saw to that bit, and as brokenly corrupt as this region is, I'm pretty sure double jeopardy is still illegal.'' Pushing himself off the railing with a noticeable grimace, he crossed his arms. If this grew into another big deal, he was going to have to other another word with Dahlia.

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Now his back straightened as he pushed himself up from the banister a bit, his interest piqued. Benoit had come on his own? The mention of personal questions cause him to lift an eyebrow over his pained grimace. Just what kind of waves had be been making? Andy hadn't remembered seeing Thomas at Mauville personally, but the battle was of such a scale, plenty of folks were easily missable.
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As a cherry on top, it didn't sound like they were a fan of the Silph CEO. That was a big plus in the boy's book. Always seemed like people at least tolerated him, or were indifferent. It was if he paid them all to like him that much. Even Doug fell under that same spell sometimes, not that that was a deal breaker, just a pet peeve.
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''Shit's just bruises and a few cuts. Nothing got broken, thankfully.'' Throughout the course of his life, the Blackadder boy had actually never broken a bone. Perhaps a testament to his resilience. Perhaps a testament to just how inactive and timid he really was. ''We can go wherever you like, so long as we don't got to ride our happy asses across the country.''
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He was not in the mood for a long drive.
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''Just let me get my shoes.'' Pushing himself to standing height, he glanced at the ribombee. ''Reggie, make sure the house doesn't get fucked up while I'm gone. I know she won't ask, but just in case, tell auntie I had,'' he shrugged as he thought up a lie, ''some League shit to deal with.'' Which was true from a certain point of view.
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The little pokemon saluted dutifully. Andy disappeared into the estate's interior for a couple of moments before returning with a pair of well worn tennis shoes and a wrinkled t-shirt that better obscured his bandage. He didn't want to answer the same question for twenty people. That was just as bad as twenty questions.
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Of course blessed with his clandestine divine sight, Thomas would notice that that wasn't all the boy wore. Sheathed within his shadow like liquid smoke was the dark aura of his ghost companion. The trademark eyes and grin that floated around within it easily identifying it as a gengar. Andy rarely left home without him, but perhaps the man would feel some subterfuge was afoot.
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''Let's blow this popsicle stand,'' he said after descending the stairs. Reginald fluttered down to return the man's coat.

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Unovan? Wasn't that just hot dogs and pizza? Perhaps he was getting his wires crossed. Either way food was food, and he didn't want to bug the ribombee to make something as the pokemon didn't offer many options. You ate what it made, or your starved. Andy wondered at times if that was how his aunt stayed so thin.
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''Suits me,'' he shrugged somewhat lopsidedly. Blinking in consideration, the boy had never seen a hydreigon, but assumed it was some dragon type by the name. ''You sure both of us can fit?'' While dragons tended to be on the larger side, he had still only witnessed a few that were broad enough to ride two comfortably.
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Either way, his yanmega could assist if need be.
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Reginald buzzed to the double doors to pull one aside and allow them to leave, since the departure would likely be soon. While Andy was typically absent of the estate, his room was as much a disaster as any teenager's when he was present. The ribombee would likely pass the time tidying up much to the boy's chagrin. But it wasn't his house.

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Like any prideful bastard, Andy really wanted to mount the mighty hydreigon himself, but the bulk was just a little too much for him to traverse on his own. Thus he was forced to accept Benoit's offer of assistance. Once the man joined him, the creature's pilot commanded it to go to Feral Jackson's, an establishment he had never heard of.
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But then he had never sought out Unovan cuisine in particular. The flight wasn't far, though the hydregion made a bigger stir as they traveled than anything he had ever flown on himself. Once they arrived, he had to accept the man's help down again. His RBF was creased with an even bigger frown than usual thanks to these embarrassments.
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''I didn't even know it existed,'' he admitted. Part of it was not being a local. He hadn't even been there a year. Hell, he hadn't even been there six months. Most of his time since then had been spent living at his lavish camp or catching pokemon whenever there wasn't an alien invasion on. There was always something going on in Hoenn.
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So much that it never occurred to him he never really had time to just go out and eat.
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''Let's go with a booth. Feels more private.'' Maybe such an admission would sound suggestive, but it was really more fueled by paranoia. The high backed seats of a booth just felt more secure and secluded, even if they really weren't. ''If kids eat free or some shit, we can say I am eleven.'' For a rich kid, Andy was all about not spending money if it could be avoided.

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The waitress knew him. But then of course he was an Elite Four. And he did say he knew the place. The schmoozing was minimal, which Andy appreciated. If it was one thing he abhorred it was adults who were only acquainted with each other in passing at best trying to act like they were best friends. When Thomas allowed an opening to introduce himself, there was a brief moment of surprise.
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Most of the time he was shown off as an accessory.
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''Andy Blackadder.'' No further comment was made. The boy didn't possess enough knowledge to criticize or complement further since he knew little about the venue. When asked what to drink, he tried to think of something Unovan off of the top of his head. ''Arnold Palmer.'' Hopefully they served the strange twist on 'tea,' if you could call the mix that.
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Most back home would turn their nose up at such a concoction, however for a Galarian, Andy was fairly liberal with his tea. It came in many flavors with different regional varieties, though from what he could recall Unova was all about fat and sugar when it came would one could call 'sustenance.' As he recalled, the Arnold Palmer was quite sweet.
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The tea was unimportant though...
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''So,'' he started as Emi went to fill their drinks, ''what did you want to know about so much that it required bribing with fine dining?'' The fine bit was spoken obviously sarcastically, and perhaps prematurely so. After all, he hadn't tried the food yet. Truth be told, this as better than dahlia goode's reward of League cafeteria food.

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