Sitting up, ocean eyes drag towards his Skarmory who had tucked herself down on the ground beside him, sitting in silent vigil while her trainer cloud watched. Angelo gives her a quick sweep over before turning his attention to his backpack, secured to Nembus’s side during their flight. [break][break]

After a careful search, rummaging through carefully coordinated personal belongings – a new habit he’d picked up – he brushes his fingers against his… precious cargo. Making sure it wasn’t damaged in the crash with a held breath. [break][break]

Hand curling loosely around the orb for a few lingering seconds as unintelligible whispers come to him, Angelo tucks it away again, satisfied that it was fine. Making sure to keep it out of sight, even if the only creature around was a vigilant Sirfetchd as it marched by.[break][break]

“Shit…” Leaning against Nembus’s side, Angelo hisses as he touches his fingers against a tender ankle, followed by a few choice Alto Marian curses as he presses against where a bruise would likely form. “Better not be sprained. That'll make cycling a pain in the ass tomorrow...”[break][break]

“Well, nothing a bit of ice won't sort.”[break][break]

He could always fly, the courier guessed. But he'd always tried not to rely too much on his winged companions when travelling for his job, preferring to cycle. But Angelo would be lying if he said it was only to keep his fitness up and for the simple enjoyment of it. [break][break]

It was also for the pinch of freedom that the rush of speed and wind provided. For the satisfaction of knowing you’ve obtained it by your own means, from your own effort, that you were fully in control of... [break][break]

The courier lets out a huff, irritated by something far greater than a throbbing ankle.




[break][break]

+ sw fighting / steel ( skipping )[break][break]

[attr="class","pokeclass"]

A crisp beeping from his pocket alerts Angelo to a received message, pulling him from his cloudy contemplations. Fishing his old, sturdy phone out of his pocket, blue eyes scan over the text before flicking upwards to take stock of the weather. [break][break]

Up above the skies are a pleasant picture of calm but then, Fallarbor and Mossdeep weren’t exactly neighbours. Good, if he’s camping tonight, he’d rather not set up a tent in a downpour. It would be nice to spend a night under a clear, starry sky again. [break][break]

Angelo punches in a quick reply to skyler dross :[break][break]

k babe[break]
see u when u get back

[break][break]

It’s then that a Combusken passes by, crouching down to scrape its claws against the dirt, probably looking for bugs to make a snack of. There’s a small ghost of a smile on Angelo’s lips as he’s reminded of a meal he'd been considering since the carrots were planted. He quickly sends another message to Skyler:[break][break]

going to make a stew whn im next over[break]
u happy with chicken??

[break][break]

The vapour trail was starting to fade when Angelo makes to stand with eyes pointed skyward, its cloud spreading across the expanse of blue, faint and wispy as it soared to places unknown. [break][break]

If he could fly a plane, he wonders, would he be able to outrace a storm?





[break][break]

+ sw fighting / steel ( skipping )[break][break]

[attr="class","pokeclass"]

A familiar notification chime brings an involuntary smile to his face, urging Angelo to pause as he slings his backpack over his shoulders, in favour of reading the text on a cracked phone screen. “Idiot…” He muses fondly, voice barely a whisper amongst the rustling of grass and leaves caught up in a pleasant spring breeze. [break][break]

Angelo’s fingers hover over the digits, about to tap out a reply before catching himself from typing the first thing that comes to mind. Instead, he sends: [break][break]

y not have both[break]
stay hungry bb[break]
see u later ;P[break]

[break][break]


Pocketing his phone, Angelo returns Nembus to her pokeball with the opinion that she probably needs to rest after her earlier escapade. Testing his ankle, he takes a few steps; ligaments panging dully, indicating a bruise destined to form. [break][break]

Feeling stubborn – defiant against his own sprain as it threatens to hold him back – Angelo’s brow pinches. Foolish or not, he’s wearing thin, water not so easily sliding off his back as the accumulation of occurrences beyond his control begin to weigh down. So, as if it’s reclaiming some sense of control, the courier ignores the ache in his ankle and presses on. Following the warm breeze, focusing on how it brushes pleasantly against his skin as it encourages him towards Fallarbor or even beyond, if he wills it.[break][break]

When he breaks through the tall grass and finds himself on the path, Angelo is met with the form of a Lucario, nursing a limp of his own. It catches sight of him, pausing in its tracks. They regard each other with a slow blink of understanding, before both stubbornly start walking again. In the same direction. [break][break]

“Guess that makes two of us,” he says on a lopsided smile – an invitation for it to lean on him presented later on down the path, in the form of a pokeball.


[break][break]

+ sw fighting / steel ( catching/befriending lucario )[break][break]

[attr="class","pokeclass"]