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POSTED ON Feb 8, 2021 7:37:37 GMT

FERNANDO SILPH
SOCIAL

It is what it is. What an utterly obnoxious, useless phrase. She used it all the time, too.

When he leaned in, her eyes became a little more glazed over than they had been previously. Her heart picked up a hair, and her stare went from one of his eyes to the other. The moment was almost enough that she forgot to listen to what he was saying, but the words kept just within the comprehensible border of her mind.

She inhaled somewhat sharply and withdrew as he did, clearing her throat a little.

The fact that he couldn’t entirely control his 'pixie dust' was the most interesting part. Again, she wanted to ask, but the booze made her brain lag and then, he was already asking another question. Tit for tat.

Lulu didn’t like admitting weakness. It wasn’t how she had been raised. She’d been raised with an iron fist and a bucketful of ice. She’d never been to therapy, or a psychiatrist. Never diagnosed with the PTSD that had plagued her for her entire life. She saw the weakness in herself, and she truly felt there was no way in hell she would ever let anyone else do so. She’d downplay it with a shrug. He was perhaps guarded, and she was perhaps one hell of a hypocrite.

“It’s a comfort, I guess.” She considered a truth she could tell without feeling guilty for it. “I’m usually alone, otherwise. Prefer to be, really.” A preference sounded decidedly better than a mental requirement.

This pokemon was a crutch. Tomorrow, she would decide to try medication. Still a crutch, but one no one could see, which was what we were going for here.

She skewed her lips and poked a tongue in her cheek, dismissing the thought and turning a few degrees back towards the bar, eyeballing the bottle as though it were untrustworthy, but also as though she were perfectly capable of bad decisions. She sighed, taking a moment to assess her own drunkenness.

“Kind of want a smoke, honestly.” This time, she asked—a request, rather than an offer. “Come with me? I’d like the company.” She paused, smiling with wry cat eyes, referencing her prior explanation, “Rare for me, you know.” It was the truth, though. Lulu didn't care for most people. At all.

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POSTED ON Feb 8, 2021 7:56:07 GMT

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[attr="class","spiral"]“Alone?” Fernando laughs heartily because he can already hear the joke escaping his lips. “We’re never alone with our trusty Pokemon.” It comes out mockingly but he releases one of his own as if the join her. His Kecleon, his starter, and most importantly, his typical DD, appears and quickly scuttles off, out of sight and out of mind as it COLOR CHANGES to blend in with the background.

“Ah?”

Her proposition ctaches him flabbergasted, considering her whole spiel about being alone, but he reads her intention inappropriately and puts one and one together. Maybe therein lies the truth on why she limits her ‘alcohol’ intake—assuming that was true in the first place. Never one to turn down the drunken advance of another, Fernando tries to shrug it off casually, meandering out of his seat as he strums up the last of his bottle.

“We coming back in or you done?”

He takes a swig before pouring out another shot to delay his own intake. The bottle still sits a round or three and he looks toward her for an answer. “If you’re trying to pick me up, then kill it.”

We don’t waste alcohol in this household.

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POSTED ON Feb 8, 2021 8:14:16 GMT

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FERNANDO SILPH

SOCIAL

She flashed teeth at his joke, catching his agreeable color of humor. She took her nearly empty glass that she’d neglected and raised it. “Right you are.” Downed it. Her eyes followed the Kecleon until they couldn’t, looking amused.

Her chin then raised at him a bit to the side. We? Was he intending on coming along with her elsewhere? “Was plannin’ on it, yeh.” Coming back in, that is. There was an almost smug grin on her face, and a wrinkle in her brow that attempted to tease him a little.

She let out a laugh, which was also rare. Even amused, she was somewhat quiet, collected. Unless she had an irresponsible amount of liquor in her, of course. Her grin remained for a moment as though she was trying to reach for something clever to say. She landed on something not so, raising her chin at him almost challengingly, flirtatiously. “You’re bad.”

She left the bottle, sliding her coat on, and retrieving a cigarette from one of the pockets. She placed one in her lips and then side-eyed him from under lashes, smirking before turning and heading for the door, looking over her shoulder after a few steps to be sure he was following.

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POSTED ON Feb 8, 2021 8:30:14 GMT

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[attr="class","spiral"]“Tch.” Fernando spares her a look, equally challenging, probing for intent. “You bring out the worst in me, Lulu.”

The first step off is always the worst. Whatever influence his degeneracy has on him always feels mitigated until he actually gets on his feet. Only then does it sink him with a wobble that requires him to catch himself lest he stumble off.

“Ah.” He snaps underneath the stool, a small sign for his unseen partner, before following after her. At this point, even he can’t tell where the Kecleon is. All he can do is put his trust into the Pokemon’s who’s riden this rodeo one too many times.

A quick fix of his coat sleeve puts him right behind her, cautious with every step, concentrating on trying to maintain what little balance he has.

“What’re smoking today? Cameruptillo?”

Fernando has his own carton of cheap gas station brand cigs himself, not much of a connoisseur for a hobby he’s supposedly dropped. Given he probably has the worse between the two, he’ll look to bum what he can.

There’s no real point to it though, he hardly notices the difference, not unlike his choice in drinks.

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saoirse quinn

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POSTED ON Feb 8, 2021 8:55:30 GMT

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FERNANDO SILPH
SOCIAL

She was smiling out the door like the cat that had gotten the cream, unable to check herself under the influence of alcohol and what she felt like she might’ve had over the bigwig. What was the worst, she wondered?

Lulu’s cigarette was surely cheaper than whatever he’d pulled out. “Marowako Blacks.” They were infamously shit, but it was a bad habit after all, wasn’t it?

She pulled out a silver lighter, flipped the top and lit her smoke through a breeze with a strong flame. She then offered the light to him, letting it stay lit. She smiled at him and then looked out at the neon lights of the city. Perhaps it would be wise to go home soon, but that was a disappointing thought. She was having a good time.

Thoughts of returning brought her to further thoughts of what she’d initially had planned for the evening, prior to the impulsive decision to spend it with Fernando getting drunk.

Her eyes fell back on him after she exhaled a large cloud of smoke into the chilly air. “Can I pick yer brain fer a tick?” A hand went up to cross her ribs, hold the elbow of her smoking hand—the left one as she shifted her weight onto one hip, swaying to the side a bit. “Silph Co. created Porygon, right?” She knew the answer, but she was merely opening up the conversation. It was, perhaps, one from far left field, but the intense interest in her eyes was surely not aimless.

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POSTED ON Feb 8, 2021 9:15:42 GMT

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[attr="class","spiral"]“Mwhap.” The soft sound of his lips clamping around the end of his cig echoes as her lighter catches him on the tail end. Brief embers of orange flirt with the tip until they catch and Fernando reels back, settling into a long-winded inhale.

“Mmhhmm,” he nods, juggling between smoking and pulling out his phone to check his notifications. There are several but he’s in no condition to read it, much less reply. “Silph Co. created a lot of things, sure. What about it?”

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saoirse quinn

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POSTED ON Feb 8, 2021 9:26:04 GMT

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FERNANDO SILPH
SOCIAL

Her gaze left him, eyes squinting at soft colors again over a million concrete horizons. She had reached the dream state of drunkenness, but her brain still carried her through somehow. This was an important thing to her. Lulu was also a pretty well-functioning alcoholic.

This didn’t keep her totally balanced, still. Eventually, she settled on leaning against the building with her shoulder and then rolling into it so her back was flat against the stony exterior. “Do you know anything about them?” Their creation had been decades ago. It was likely a shot in the dark. “Anything about Porygon-Z by chance?” She looked back at him again. “I have… a project.” She wrinkled her brow, considering something. “Could use some hints, maybe.”

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POSTED ON Feb 8, 2021 9:36:45 GMT

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[attr="class","spiral"]He pockets his phone along with his interest. Her question is sobering if only because the mood gets spoilt by work. Is this how everyone else feels around him? He’s not sure but it doesn’t push him to change either. It’s just anti-climatic.

“I know a bit.” Of course he does. Silph Co.’s assortment of data technologies and Porygon are second to none. In fact, behind close doors, they rank number one, two, and three. But that information never leaves Fernando’s lips.

“What do you have?”

He’ll entertain her for now.

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POSTED ON Feb 8, 2021 9:45:00 GMT

FERNANDO SILPH
SOCIAL

She met his eyes, and at his question, she squinted her own again. Her mind came up blank. Attempting to lay it all out and explain the actual logistics of her project suddenly felt impossibly daunting. She bit her lips together for a moment, thinking. “Well--” The expression on her face would be mixed and unreadable. “You know what? Come with me. I want to show you.” What a god awful, stupid idea. There it was.

Her cigarette was pushed into a smoking post. It took a couple of tries, and a spark hit her hand, which startled her some.
A grin then returned to her face. “Kill that bottle ‘n leave?”

She'd follow him in and pay her tab if he obliged, taking whatever he offered in terms of booze.

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POSTED ON Feb 8, 2021 10:01:47 GMT

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[attr="class","spiral"]Fernando grimaces. "You going to make it worth my while?" Entertaining her question was one thing but to put actual agency behind it sounds like more trouble than it's worth. What he understood to be their mutual interest it put to end; he's just a mean to an end and not one that ends in drunk fun and bad decisions.

"After you."

Fernando waves the tab off on his card, considering taking something for the road, but his better judgement persuades him otherwise. The feeling of something prodding his shin acts as his second conscience. He leaves it for her.

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saoirse quinn

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POSTED ON Feb 8, 2021 10:07:50 GMT

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FERNANDO SILPH
SOCIAL

Lulu returned his look without an answer.

Once the tab was paid, she turned to him, leaning on the bar some and watching his head sway to the side while in reality it stayed well-attached to the rest of him. Soon, they were on their way back out the door. She turned over her shoulder.

“Mind a cab?”

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POSTED ON Feb 22, 2021 8:57:22 GMT

[attr="class","spiral"]

night 25 / saturday 9:42 pm

Thinking with his dick was probably both the worst and most brilliant decision he could've made about Lulu. Coming home to her had been an ample dance with danger, fraught with telltale signs that, indeed, one should not 'stick their dick in crazy'. But in that reckless urge for release, he found something more interesting: an insight into who Lulu really was.

It goes without saying, the fact she disappeared off the grid does not go unnoticed. His attempts at having someone subtle look into her background provides some context for what little he knows but none of it spells anything definitive. She is an enigma and one not to be trusted. The fact she reeks of risk and instability only reinforce the point—she's hiding something.

What that something is, is foregone for the more pressing matter that he can't find her. Not that he looks. He takes his own absence from Kaledioscope for some time. The nights reserved for drinking are spent elsewhere, exploring the other aspects of nightlife that Lilycove has to offer. When he returns, he makes it promise not to comment on missing spot at the other end of the bar.

It isn't until his third time back that he asks Hartigan. Unsurprisingly, he doesn't have a clue.

night 31 / friday 11:07 pm

Kalos' Ultraball Cup kicks in with an exhibition match to celebrate this month's tournament. Fernando remains glued to the screen as a Chesnaught locks arms with a Drapion. Try as it might, the Drapion can't seem to land a stab with its tail, leaving the commentators breathless as they go back and forth about how the type matchup should decide the match. "He's baiting for a SPIKE SHIELD," Fernando calls out, taking a long sip from the glass mug of his margarita.

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POSTED ON Feb 22, 2021 9:34:08 GMT

FERNANDO SILPH
SOCIAL

I know who you are. what you are.
Don't do anything rash and nothing has to happen.

He’d looked… off. As though he’d known what was going on. As though he’d written the fortune himself. It had spelled out one of Lulu’s greatest fears—being discovered. It was shameful, dangerous… unacceptable.

Fernando had set himself in a threatening position, and was fucking with her head. The wild mistake she’d made had run rampant already, proving her brother right, much to her chagrin.

She hadn’t been able to get his smile out of her thoughts.

Two weeks went by before she broke, unable and unwilling to spend even more of her days casting glances over her shoulder and losing even more sleep. She would not be chased out of a second region. She would face the dangers head-on, and try her best to be smart about it.

A long sigh escaped her and she popped her neck stressfully, put out a cigarette, and headed in the door. She immediately spotted him, absorbed in the battle on TV.

Designer boots carried her to the bar, where she slid into the seat next to him. She was bold, face turned all the way in his direction. “What are you baiting for?”

At Hartigan she gave two fingers, inviting a couple of shots to split between them as per ritual—an olive branch? Perhaps something more devious.

“Could I get a water too, Hartigan? Thanks.” Her voice was sharper than usual, as was her haircut. For the evening, her eyes were back to their natural amber and she wore thin metal frames. Glasses did something to a person’s look; to how people treated you. They made her look unassuming, and she was well aware of it. It was a strategy.

A finger nudged the second shot towards him and she sipped her water. When she lowered the glass, a trained smile, feigning friendliness, flashed at him. Her jaw tilted with inquisitiveness that didn't look quite like prey. There was an underlying challenge in the stare that never left his face.

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POSTED ON Feb 22, 2021 9:56:31 GMT

[attr="class","spiral"]She gives him the world. Her attention. A challenge. Even buys him a round of shots after vanishing without a trace. She returns, new hair-do, glammed up in a way he's never seen before, but Fernando reciprocates none of this. His eyes never leave the screen. No one interrupts the Ultraball Cup.

No one.

"Speak of the devil and she shall appear."

The way he teases her borders mocking, accentuated with the way he raises his finger to 'shush' her before pointing at the television. "Every time the Drapion goes for a sting, the Chesnaught either evades or twists it so the blow misses. You would think up close, interlocked, that extra appendage would give it an advantage—"

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saoirse quinn

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