Through the crashing of waves against a weathered hull, water creeping up the woodwork like hungry claws attempting to drag the ship off the rocks and into its dark throat, a tiny wail is carried to him on the wind.[break][break]

It whispers his name, faint and trembling. [break][break]

And even though he’s unsure whether Stormy’s voice wavers simply from being released into the squall or if the shake originates from deep within her chest, Angelo turns back. Attention drawn to check on her, like a moth to the flame. [break][break]

Maelstrom eyes steel over, containing his pull towards the chaotic skies, in an automatic response at a call which he interprets as a request for aid. [break][break]

“Don’t stop now. We’re almost there.” Angelo responds over the harrowing creak of the mast, even though his own feet take pause in their splashing advance through the swirling tide. His muscles instinctively tensing, bracing himself against the swaying deck, as surging ocean waters and howling winds seemingly work in tandem to try and claim another ship for The Locker. [break][break]

Cold, drenched fingers stretch out through buffering winds and the stinging of pelting saltwater; extending a lifeline for a friend to take hold of should she wish, to navigate through the blurring stream of rain.[break][break]

“Shit, hold on!”[break][break]

Only it’s Angelo that snatches hold of Stormy’s wrist first when a wave suddenly bursts over the edge of the ship, crashing against them with ruthless ferocity. His heart squeezes in time with a tight grip of calloused digits against her skin, jaw clenching as if willing himself to be like a rock against the ocean’s merciless beating. [break][break]

But the wave is too powerful – too hungry – as it smashes down over their already sodden forms. Something solid and sharp that’s pulled in with the tide smacks into Angelo’s leg, but the Mareanie’s barbed form only proves to add another gargled curse to the repertoire that spills from his lips. [break][break]

He's already doomed to be swept up by the beast of the sea... [break][break]

It's black, angry waters throwing them right down a jagged hole in the deck, plunging them past wooden fangs and into the dark depths of its belly. Ship devouring them whole.


[break][break]

+ Stormy Silph // passing[break][break]

[attr="class","pokeclass"]

It’s like a film of Misty Surge had settled over his consciousness. [break][break]

When Angelo finally starts to come to, everything feels cold and disjointed. Numb. As if parts of himself had not yet made it back to the plane of the awoken. [break][break]

He knows he’s laying somewhere hard, that rain is cascading onto him through the hole they’d fallen through and that the Mareanie had sunk its barbs into his skin when it had swept past. But feeling it? No. His senses suddenly feel dipped in greyscale. [break][break]

"Ang-o? Oh, --d, A--elo- p-ea-e wake up."

[break][break]

Like a lighthouse beam piercing through the fog, warmth seeps down into his skin through the drenched fabric of his shirt; someone’s touch casting his adrift awareness a lifeline to fix itself to.[break][break]

Calloused fingers blindly reach out, squeezing tightly around a wrist that frantically slaps and roughly shakes his chest, trying to still Stormy’s desperate attempts to rouse him before she rips a hole in his t-shirt. [break][break]

“I’m awake… Shit. I’m awake…” [break][break]

It takes more effort than it really should to open his eyes and let the dim light of their surroundings come into focus. And even when Angelo attempts to blink the glassiness away from blurry blues, they continue to almost appear duller in colour, like a part of himself is not entirely there – vacant. [break][break]

“Stormy?” His voice croaks out, quieter than he intended and possibly drowned out by the sound of the elements continuing to rage against the hull of the broken ship.[break][break]

“You alright? Not hurt, are you?” Angelo clears his throat, trying again as life slowly starts to seep back into his bones. Bringing with it a slowly increasing sting in his leg and an ache in his spine, painful reminders of their bodies being swept into a freefall.[break][break]

Before checking his throbbing ankle, he gives Stormy a once over. If he notices that the tracks running down her face are from tears and not the rain, then he doesn't say anything. Although he does give her wrist a little squeeze. [break][break]

Stiffly, Angelo shifts up onto an elbow with gritted teeth to push himself into sitting, frustration niggling at the back of his mind as his body disobeys his usual motion with weighed down limbs. [break][break]

Could a little fall really make you feel this… lethargic?



[break][break]

+ Stormy Silph // passing[break][break]

[attr="class","pokeclass"]