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POSTED ON Jan 27, 2021 3:23:59 GMT

cait alfric likes this

He spat toothpaste into the sink turning on the faucet again to rinse his mouth and the drain.

In seconds he reaching for the door, a jacket, a cap and luggage bearing enough clothes to to last him a day or two.

He wasn't going to be gone long, just long enough to peek around. Survey the land, access the damages, retrace old steps.

He was taking a privately rented speed boat, better that way; his name wouldn't be on any substantial ledgers. He could be in and out with no fuss.

Excluding, potentially, the fuss that would be coming from his cell phone. A missed call.

The way he guessed it he only had seconds to call her back before he got the "wyd" text followed swiftly by another call followed by "where r u" with at least one frown emoji.

He was supposed to be going back to her place tomorrow night. He could make it back by then. If he didn't pick up or text back until he was already on the boat, she wouldn't be able to talk him out of it.

Opening the door, steadfast, in a hurry and lazor focused his gaze shifted upwards from looking at his feet to eye level only to bump into something green and brown and shorter than he was.

● tags: cait alfric
● notes: mission specs

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y o y o

cai

she/her

twenty-three

may 15

fortree

bisexual

herbalist

civilian

596 height

slithers of wistful window gazes glint in borrowed light

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POSTED ON Jan 27, 2021 13:51:47 GMT

Sénon Game likes this

there were rare moments when she experienced spikes of paranoia, a worry manifesting and gradually building whenever sénon didn't respond to her messages or calls. his safety, after all, was paramount; and she was all too aware of his willingness to dive headfirst into danger.

'i don't want to play the part of the clingy significant other,' she thought. 'but - '

sometimes it couldn't be helped, cait making her way to his homestead after a moment's hesitation. perhaps, if she was a little insistent, she could bring him back home with her a day sooner. it had been a week since he had last come around, which had admittedly left her in a moderately needy state. of course, she made sure to practice self-control in his absence, aware that he had business of his own to tend to.

but the longer he was away the more often he received unsolicited pictures of a lewd nature.

"sénon."

they had bumped into one another, cait retreating a small step as she peered up at the taller man. her gaze flicked between his face and his luggage - the luggage standing out most of all. sénon possessed enough clothing at her cabin where he rarely had to pack; toiletries, undergarments and multiple outfits readied and waiting.

'don't think too deeply into it.'

"were you headed to the cabin?"

'i'll look like an idiot if he was. but he wasn't responding to my texts or my calls. then again - if he was - i'll look like the crazy girlfriend.'

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slowe

Masculine

Thirty One

November 13

Cinnabar Island

heterosexual

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POSTED ON Jan 27, 2021 18:55:38 GMT

His reflexes were getting sharper, probably from the sparring he'd taken up among his more inclined pokémon. His hand caught her by the small of her back before he even realized who 'her' was.

Seeing her face after a week reminded him of the all the pictures she started to send; tokens of her affection he safeguarded even if he didn't respond in kind.

Letting her go once his inertia no longer affected her she asked him a question he wasn't ready to answer.

His first impulse was to say he had an assignment but in an instant he thought better of it. Keep work out of your lies. Having to lie to her at all didn't taste good in his throat.

Liars weren't evil people. They were however, permanent-suspects of manipulation. Those whose motives and movements would always be questioned and held under scrutiny.

Sénon was a great liar; his paternal grandfather's linage took to gambling as their family profession. In certain tongues "Game" was a sort of synonym for lies, manipulations and misleading.

His bluffing ability and pokerface were stronger than most peoples yet those were talents he never made use of.

His life wasn't all truths; he did sneak around in a helmet and stick his nose in other people's business under a false identity no one knew about. He sometimes used subterfuge violence and chaos to get his way. But this, lying to Cait's face, there was a loud part of him that couldn't live with that and knew better than to take even one step down that road.

"No." Out with it. "I was, I am-" Out with all of it. "..going home."

will she go with, or will she make him stay?

will she go with, or will she make him stay?

● tags: cait alfric
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cai

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twenty-three

may 15

fortree

bisexual

herbalist

civilian

596 height

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POSTED ON Jan 28, 2021 4:09:30 GMT

Sénon Game likes this

"'going home?'"

her expression transitioned from vaguely bemused to increasingly blank, her lips pressed into a thin line as she peered up at him.

'home,' she thought.

she immediately assumed the worse, the way his face was presently set betraying him. as cait processed this, she bristled a little.

'he didn't tell me.'

but she understood why, because her reaction would remain much the same regardless.

"your home is with me."

there was a slight tremor in her voice as she made her declaration, emotions rearing their ugly head. she was angry because he hadn't told her - he'd ignored her messages - and fully intended to slip away before she could throw up a fuss.

"you can't just go out there without any back up. and without telling me. i told you to tell me if you went back there, sénon."

her lips gave a wobble, her strange gaze revealing her worry and a partially subdued rage.

"what if something happened? and i didn't know where you were?"

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slowe

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Thirty One

November 13

Cinnabar Island

heterosexual

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POSTED ON Jan 28, 2021 6:44:06 GMT

Sénon Game likes this

She always knew what to say to give him pause. They must have been in love if they had this much affect on each other.

He closed the door to his apartment and leaned back against the door frame as she put her foot in the sand in reminding him his home was with her. She wasn't wrong about that, even now a big piece of him wanted to go home with her especially since she had showed up for him, ready as ever to claim him.

But despite his words to her which were true when he said them, his grudge with rocket and his desire to return his homeland to what it was wouldn't die so easily.

He'd already bit at Stormy for trying to cheer him up. Clearly he wasn't ready to bury those old bones from his closet.

At the sound of "you can't just-" he raised his hands waving her on, like he was wafting a scent towards himself, or like he was giving Cait his non-verbal permission to let it all out and give the tongue-lashing he deserved.

All the good points she made he could only really refute one. "Interpol could track the location of my cell phone. If I died, you'd know where and knowing where, you'd know why." She was either going to burst into tears or slap him for that.

He wasn't meaning to push her buttons, only to be honest. It was the best he could do now that he'd been caught.

● tags: cait alfric , Stormy Silph
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y o y o

cai

she/her

twenty-three

may 15

fortree

bisexual

herbalist

civilian

596 height

slithers of wistful window gazes glint in borrowed light

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POSTED ON Jan 28, 2021 10:07:54 GMT

"and where would that leave me?"

the glare she leveled at him was utterly potent, her voice maintaining its slight tremor. she felt slightly hurt by his willingness to leave her in the dark, as well as his immense desire to return to kanto. cait feared she wasn't doing enough to keep him by her side, especially if he was so willing to risk everything by making the trip.

"alone."

she inhaled a sharp breath, her prettied features pulled taut.

"if i hadn't shown up you'd have left."

'and i'd have been too late to do anything about it,' she realized.

the woman blinked.

"..."

she closed the distance and poked him harshly in his chest, a glow entering her green-eyed stare.

"you're not leaving. i'm not letting you walk off to get yourself killed for no fucking reason."

her voice lowered as she squinted up at him, the woman visibly peeved.

"i love you too much to let you do stupid shit like this. now turn around, go back into your apartment and unpack."

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slowe

Masculine

Thirty One

November 13

Cinnabar Island

heterosexual

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POSTED ON Jan 28, 2021 10:38:08 GMT

His mind told him to grab her by the shoulders and talk her down but somewhere inside his gut told him that was only going to make it worse. She was all worked up on "Don't Touch Me (Yet)" Energy. He crossed his arms letting her express her frustration.

"I wasn't going to leave you alone Cai." When he spoke, his voice didn't have the same pointed focus to it. It was low, like he was arguing/convincing himself rather than her. "I wasn't going to die because I wasn't going to attack anyone."

He did perk up enough to make light of the situation at least a little. "Is there really such a thing as 'too late' for you?" Now he was was pushing her buttons.

He could practically see the steam rushing from nostrils like she was a cartoon bull. Then she gave him his orders. Go inside and unpack (and forget about doing whatever it was he was considering doing). He put up his hands up in defeat, a neutral expression on his face; not a smile but not the scowl he'd had when he first exited his front door.

This wasn't over, and he wasn't finished but he wasn't going to risk Cait's ire when it was her love for him that brought her here in the first place. "When did you start specializing in Fire-types." In just a few words she got him right where she wanted him.

Although he technically hadn't gone back inside yet.

● tags: cait alfric
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y o y o

cai

she/her

twenty-three

may 15

fortree

bisexual

herbalist

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596 height

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POSTED ON Jan 28, 2021 11:23:09 GMT

Sénon Game likes this

seeing as he wasn't moving at a satisfactory pace, she decided to help him along. she casually stuffed her hands into his pocket, fishing out his key and unlocking the door of his apartment. the luggage was also promptly removed from his grip, the woman taking the confiscated item back into the familiar depths of his personal quarters.

"hm."

cait eyed her immediate surroundings, deciding she'd clean once her beau was resettled. she remained silent as she unpacked on his behalf, unwilling to let him do so. any attempts at intervention would result in a pointed look, her hand slapping his own away with a mild harshness.

"we're heading back to the cabin tomorrow," she informed, her tone leaving little room for argument.

he was certain to face consequences of a provacative nature in the near future. after all, they hadn't been together for a number of days.

"i suggest you call whoever you arranged your traveling affairs with and cancel."

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slowe

Masculine

Thirty One

November 13

Cinnabar Island

heterosexual

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POSTED ON Jan 28, 2021 18:33:02 GMT

There was nothing he could do.

It seemed she loved him too much to have a real meltdown over this so long as he didn't actually leave.

She wasn't asking for much, wanting to be kept in the loop of his deeds (or misdeeds). He understood why she was behaving this way he only felt bad at the prospect that she didn't understand why he was behaving the way he was.

That was probably more his fault than hers.

It had begun, he could feel Kanto calling him. He had to go back at some point but was it really as simple as telling her ahead of time? Was the anxiety of knowing he was gone (and might not come back) a lesser pain for her than finding out he had gone in secret after he'd already returned?

He leaned against a wall in the corridor as she scuttled back and forth putting things away. He was reminded how much he loved her after only five and half months when she started to clean his place. Even after the scare he gave and the borderline disrespect of cutting her out of his decision making, she still troubled herself with his messes.

She still troubled herself with him, big a mess as he was.

The tug-of-war of right and wrong in the 'Cait v Kanto' saga still something he had to figure out an all-pleasing solution for. A problem for tomorrow's Sénon to deal with.

Not like he could focus on it now, her hips and backside looking more full and ripe in her stride than normal. "Hey do that thing with your eyes again."

● tags: cait alfric
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y o y o

cai

she/her

twenty-three

may 15

fortree

bisexual

herbalist

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596 height

slithers of wistful window gazes glint in borrowed light

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POSTED ON Jan 29, 2021 5:02:28 GMT

Sénon Game likes this

she smoothly transitioned from unpacking and stowing away his luggage to neatening up his apartment. the man wasn't particularly fond of cleaning up after himself, so cait took care of him in that regard, partially bound by duty to make sure his living arrangements were comfortable. there was a domestic air about her as she worked, an innate desire driving her forward.

the woman was only vaguely aware of sénon's gaze, her boyfriend appearing preoccupied with her form. cait discreetly glanced in his direction to confirm her suspicions, quirking a brow as she noticed he was presently fixated on her body. despite the anger that simmered within her emotional depths, she was pleased by his continued interest. but seeing as she was a woman who was talented in 'the art of the bedroom', it didn't require much effort on her part to satisfy her beau.

'wait.'

she chided herself inwardly, suppressing her desires in hopes of potentially imparting a lesson. when he presented his inquiry she gave a displeased huff.

"why?"

cait eyed him warily. but the look he presently gave her made her heart flutter with a surge of delight, the avatar struggling to keep a look of discontent on her face as she allowed her powers to manifest. her freckled flesh and the glow of her eyes changed beneath his gaze, a light and soothing aura pulsating from her form.

"fine."

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slowe

Masculine

Thirty One

November 13

Cinnabar Island

heterosexual

Kantonian Ambassador

Ex-Head Ranger

750 height

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