the past had a way of catching up to you in your lowest moments. not that this meeting was a guilty pleasure, nor was it a hindrance. for elijah, whose connections are very little and transient, it was simply nice to see a familiar face.

his parasect hitches a ride on his thin black hoodie. despite the season, elijah had selected it for no reason other than to "dress up a little."

elijah sees him in the bar before entering. he massages his own neck as he crosses the door's threshold, and before sam can turn his head, the apothecary says:

"congrats on the mountain full of dead people."

samuel carter

the daisychain of humour is snipped there. unlike sam's absol, elijah does not grimace; he simply allows the pun to hang in the air as it is buried by the orange clamor of a bar's kitchen.

"so things are going well then." elijah wonders why sam stands. sign of respect? general excitement? despite the long stretch of time spanning from their previous encounter to this one, elijah desecrates his own presence with a brief spiral of thought.

elijah carefully navigates around the absol before taking his seat promptly.

"never thought you'd become mt. pyre's new owner. dream achieved or is it just a stepping stone for something else?"

samuel carter

"business hasn't changed except for indoor succulents. people buy them like crazy." elijah says dryly, mouth parching at the sound of some pour. "probably because they're easy as shit to take care of."

his palm rests on the cool of the counter. leaning into the edge, he faces sam, that same flat expression he wears all the time never faltering.

"i'm happy for you, sam."

there is little jubilance in the ink of his voice; however, he means well. the eye contact tells it so.

"you're fucked up for wanting to come to hoenn though."

samuel carter

the drinks arrive. cold, numbing. undoubtedly like the corpses hauled up that cursed mountain.

"shit. i never had a good relationship with my mom.'"

elijah raises his glass close to his lips. close enough to tip toward his mouth for a drink, vaguely far enough for it to become a toast.

"so, fuck moms." elijah drinks. "good to get away. usually, when people leave the roost they go wild for awhile. not open up a fucking cemetery."

as the absol rests, he scries sam for restlessness within the clamor of this slateport izakaya.

samuel carter

"i've got no qualms." elijah rises too, taking another hearty mouthful from his glass.

inwardly, he thanks sam for the change of place. the warm prickles of some unidentified anxiety roll across his shoulders. the more rowdy the bar gets, the more restless elijah becomes.

"but a romantic walk down the beach?" elijah snorts. "is this a date?"

he is careful not to accidentally kick sam's absol in his departure. pulling bills from his pockets, he lays pokedollars on the bar counter.

"i got us covered. lead the way."

samuel carter

the apothecary speaks as they walk. leaving the bar is an icy transition; the cool evening air reminds them so.

"tch, you hit the nail on the head." elijah shakes off his sleeves, letting the wrinkles smoothen. however, any movement forces their unruly ridges to form again, like the folds of forehead skin on a frowning face. "i'm the unromantic florist."

he folds his arms together.

"you haven't found anyone yet?" elijah asks. "you're a big hotshot now. owning a fucking mountain. people should be flocking to you."

samuel carter

"sounds shitty."

the relationships sam describes come forth like dried branches of a thick thorn forest. complexity does not come in the way of its main arms, but in the way sharp lateral shoots harass each other in the winds of barbed thoughts.

it is too much, elijah thinks. too much to carry. not worth to cultivate. he'd rather cleave and trim until the the branch is bare.

"you're telling me." elijah adjusts his jaw. "and i'm the worst offender of that. you know that, right?"

he sighs.

"seems like you want to settle though. that's nice."

samuel carter