The Corsola Debacle [M]

i used to dream in the dark of palisades park

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Ronny
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January 18
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Ronald Rogers
The Corsola Debacle [M]
POSTED ON Jun 23, 2021 4:10:55 GMT
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It was a warm morning in Lilycove; the sun was harsh, but the clouds blocked it just enough to make being outside somewhat pleasant. It was the kind of weather that was nice, but also mysterious and cozy. It was a fine day for sailing especially, and the Lilycove docks were abuzz as sailors set off to fish--or whatever sailors do.

One boat at the end of the dock stood dormant, swaying quietly in the gentle current. It was a banged up, rotting little vessel covered in barnacles. Whoever owned it gave it very little care, and most dock visitors would give it a wide berth. Contrasting with the dreary boat, a large colorful banner could be seen hanging between the sails. 

In bright pink it read: Corsala Migration Cruise!

A salty looking seadog wearing a tattered long-coat and a white beard could be sitting on the deck, slowly whittling away at a piece of wood. He checked his watch, a small smirk crossing his lips as he saw the time. It wouldn't be long now.


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The Corsola Debacle [M]
POSTED ON Jun 23, 2021 5:54:24 GMT
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She enjoyed walking around the harbor.

Typically, these sorts of adventures would be had later in the evening, under a setting sun, when all had returned for the day. It never failed to present her with a good conversation, or at least something interesting on the dock—even if it was just an odd pebble.

The banner caught her eye through the harbor's emptiness, bright pink standing out against the drab slime of the vessel itself. The man standing on its deck didn’t look particularly savory either. Nonetheless, Eliora never judged a book by its cover.

Corsola’s migration route interested her, and she’d been wanting to find a good spot to dive within it. Alas, she didn’t own a boat, and didn’t particularly like driving them.

“Hello!” She approached him with a smile, a Slowbro waddling at her side. “This looks fun.”

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Ronny
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January 18
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You can feel like a pagan
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Ronald Rogers
The Corsola Debacle [M]
POSTED ON Jun 23, 2021 20:47:37 GMT
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A voice broke the sailor's concentration, causing his next whittle to become a chop and ruin the wood. He wasn't angry however, in fact he seemed quite pleased. He adjusted the worn hat that sat upon his head as he turned toward the strange, making extra care that they couldn't see his eyes. He threw his arms open in welcome, laughing heartily as he chucked his wood and knife into the ocean.

"Welcome lass!" The sailor boomed, his voice worn by years of inhaling ocean air. "Come aboard! Yer just in time, we're about to shove off. Where did that first mate of mine run off to? First mate! Where are ya?"

A barrel near the ship's cabin popped open, and from it jumped out a croakgunk with a sailor hat and a pipe in its mouth. The first mate sauntered toward his master, saluting him as he waited for orders. "There ye are, look lively now! We have a customer, collect her payment while I unfurl the sails! Then hoist the anchor! We have to get moving while the air's still cool!"

The first mate nodded, hobbling over to the plank ramp to meet the girl. As he approached he stuck out one hand and pointed to the banner with the other. Under the bright wording was slightly less noticeable letter that read: 50pd per passenger. Once payment was collected, the first mate would escort the customer onto the ship.

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The Corsola Debacle [M]
POSTED ON Jun 23, 2021 22:03:21 GMT
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He tossed the knife into the ocean, and as the tip of it pierced the surface, her heart hitched lightly in surprise. What an odd thing to do—and sort of dangerous, right? What if it stabbed a fish?

She looked back up at him, bewildered into silence for a moment.

“Erm—okay. This is such luck! We’ve been wanting to do something like this...”

At the sight of a smoking Croagunk, she was equally stunned, but grinned when it held out its hand, sunshine returning from behind a cloud. Cute.

While Eliora reached into her purse to find 50 PD (or 100 if she owed for Slowbro as well, simply to be able to keep it out of its ball), her pokemon’s head drooped to one side like dripping molasses. ’Bro…?’

“Here you go.” She placed the money in the Croagunk’s upturned palm. “Thank you, sir.”

Once they were paid, they boarded.

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