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POSTED ON Jul 21, 2019 1:15:53 GMT

[attr="class","spiral"] "motel? for someone like you, cooper? a hero of hoenn."

fernando says it jest but the words have some weight. the legendary train menace is not one to be taken lightly and her accomplishment, no matter how vague to the populace, are considered illustrious within the league. fernando scoffs at the notion of cooper being in a dinky, trashy motel. having never been in one himself, his imagination plays off the standard depiction in television and movies, and it's not pretty.

"why don't you stay at one of my place? i don't use them for more than sleeping so feel free to crash."

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POSTED ON Jul 26, 2019 18:03:25 GMT

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THAT LOVE IS LIKE A GHOST. OH, AND THE MOONLIGHT BABY SHOWS YOU WHAT'S REAL. THERE AIN'T A LANGUAGE FOR THE THINGS THAT I FEEL, AND IF I CAN'T HAVE YOU, THAN NO ONE EVER WILL. I DON'T FEEL IT TILL IT HURTS. YES, I KNOW THAT LOVE IS LIKE A GHOST.

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A Hero of Hoenn?[break][break]

“Yeah, okay,” like she would ever believe that.[break][break]

Motels had become her standard of normalcy. It was not a good standard, but beggars couldn't be choosers. It was better than sleeping on the couch of a Pokemon Center. It was better than pitching a tent out in the wilderness. Those memories were what made her quit the life of a traveling trainer. Sometimes, it was just too much hassle.[break][break]

His offer filtered in her mind. With the liquor acting as a catching net, she was less inclined to be wary. “...You got HBO?”[break][break]

She had her priorities in order.[break][break]

“Cuz the motel sure as hell won't.”

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[attr="class","frlastconttag"]FOR

FERNANDO SILPH ; [mission page]

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POSTED ON Jul 29, 2019 3:34:46 GMT

[attr="class","spiral"] fernando dismisses the question with a laugh. naturally, he has no clue. a man of his stature is too pressed for time to enjoy the luxury of television. and even then, the only thing he plays is the news. keeping up with current events and information is enjoyment enough. well, there's always online services but a question of availability has never been a question for the man who has everything.

"they better well damn. i don't watch cable but i would think it's bundled."

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POSTED ON Nov 9, 2019 4:46:41 GMT

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Time had a funny way of slipping through her fingers.[break][break]

“Not like I really care—they got this new show, something called shalter dego. Has... uh... superheroes or some shit. First episode aired tonight.”[break][break]

Her eyes catch the clock, noticing how the hands had twisted. Contorted and pulled, the big hand had shown itself against a different number. It was getting late.[break][break]

“It's already that late?” and she blamed the conversation, knowing that words could make second stretch short.[break][break]

Long gone was the sun of the late evening; it was night. “What the hell happened?” and she chugged down the last sip of her water, waiting for even the smallest of droplets before returning it to the counter. “It's already been three hours.”[break][break]

“...Fuck. Wanna go dutch, or do you got this?” and Bailey Cooper was already fishing for her wallet, just to confirm that it was still on her person.[break][break]

She had a habit of misplacing things while drunk. “Cause I gotta stop drinking. Before I get into trouble.”

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POSTED ON Nov 9, 2019 6:19:08 GMT

[attr="class","spiral"] "Oh." Fernando would've followed up with 'that sounds interesting' but he's not sure he can pull it off without it coming across as a blatant lie. Television and current pop culture has always been a weakness and in small interactions like these it becomes blaringly apparently how little he has in common with the average person. That's why he prefers drinking, a mutual hobby that lets them both loosen up, usually descending into rambling about random bullshit that neither side has to truly understand.

"Dutch?" The phrase eludes him and he stares at her stupidly, unsure if that's another pop culture reference or a saying that she's personally used to. Fernando doesn't put one and one together and when he notices Bailey reach for her wallet he waves his hand to stop her. "Don't worry about the tab. It's on me," he pushes, slipping a hand into his back pocket to pull out his wallet.

"That's the least I can do for your services, sergeant."

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POSTED ON Feb 9, 2020 7:36:25 GMT

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“means we go half-and-half,” bailey said as she caught sight of him fetching his wallet.[break][break]

she held up her hands, conceding defeat. “aight, if you insist,” and it took effort to not show her relief. Budgeting was a weakness that she had never overcome—she does not check her phone, knowing that if she opened her banking app, she would most likely be in the red.[break][break]

hopefully, this new title would mean a bigger paycheck—more money to waste on stupid trivialities.

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POSTED ON Feb 10, 2020 10:56:04 GMT

[attr="class","spiral"] "Oh." He learns something new. Not that it'll stick; Fernando will have forgotten most of their conversation when he wakes up tomorrow. Up until they go shot for shot in the bar will remain vivid with only their little rant against the garbage trainers of Hoenn sticking past that.

Fernando waves for the bartender and asks to close out. He passes his card and repeats his surname, surprised that he's not recognized, and waits for the tab to be passed back to him. "What's tip on a hundred and thirteen?" Fernando does his own personal math but realizes he's drunk when he can round up the cents to make the next dollar. Not without stopping to think it through and mentally count his numbers.

Maybe it would be easier to round to 200 but Fernando waits for her response before writing down anything concrete.

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POSTED ON Feb 10, 2020 22:12:01 GMT

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Math? In her current state?[break][break]

“Thirty seven bucks... and fifty cents. Can't forget the fifty cents,” she replied, blurting out the first number to emerge in her mind. Was it right? Absolutely not. “Round up if you wanna.”[break][break]

If he opted for her answer, then he really was shitfaced.[break][break]

Bailey snickered, so drunk that even her thoughts were able to amuse her.

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POSTED ON Feb 12, 2020 8:56:40 GMT

[attr="class","spiral"] He can't do the mental math. Three, seven, all odd number and infinitely harder than slapping out a nice round number. Fernando opts for the 200 from earlier and scribbles it down under the tip tab. He realizes his mistake afterwards and scribbles it out, writing 'sorry' next to his mishap and filling it out as the total.

"I got it," he slurs the end in hesitance before pushing the bill away from himself. "Thanks, Porter." Fernando takes his time to prevent himself from stumbling and wishes his bartender a good night. He turns to Bailey, scanning for the exit despite knowing the interior of the bar.

"You good?"

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POSTED ON Feb 13, 2020 22:11:37 GMT

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“I'm as peachy as a pecha berry,” and she slandered to the exit, almost bumping into the oncoming patrons.[break][break]

Bailey felt warm. Even when her skin was greeted by the nighttime air, the effects of liquor kept away the chill. “Where'd you park that death trap, again?” [break][break]

Oh, wait. He parked right in front of the restaurant. She was standing right in front of the car. “Whoops,” and when her eyes cast back in his direction, she could feel her gaze be dragged up to the Rascal's sign all aglow with its bright, welcoming lights.[break][break]

“Fuck this joint,” even if the fries were good.

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POSTED ON Feb 18, 2020 7:39:27 GMT

[attr="class","spiral"]"You don't sound good, Cooper."

Fernando answers with a lighthearted laugh that shows his own dizziness. There's an empty glee in his tone and it comes from the lack of worries. His only concern now is getting home safe and he trusts his companion well enough to cover for his own failures.

"Tch. I'll have you know that this is the cutting edge in technology. Statistically, it's safer than Hoenn." Fernando fishes for his watch and tries to navigate between each screen but eventually flounders toward the driver side of the vehicle. "Beep boop. It's Silph. Open up." And, without a hitch, the door unlocks with a solid click. Having a Pokemon actually inhabit a vehicle proves more valuable than most would imagine and Fernando finds slipping into the driver's seat oddly comfortable. If only he could close his eyes.

But he knows better than to fall asleep at the wheel. Not because he doesn't trust the Pokemon but because he's not alone. He needs to ensure his guest is just fine and he peers over the dashboard to keep and eye on Bailey. "Something wrong, Coops?"

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POSTED ON Feb 18, 2020 8:02:10 GMT

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“What'd you say?” Fernando's comment went unheard as Bailey snapped from her own little world.[break][break]

She glanced in his direction, but her surroundings were blurred. Like looking through an adjustable lense, it took a moment for her eyes to focus. She gave them a rub, wondering if the pressure would alleviate the symptom. It did not, but it did make her eyelids feel heavy.[break][break]

Safer than Hoenn? “That's... uh... not sayin' much,” but previous fears are forgotten in the haze of liquid courage as she opened the door to the backseat, opting out of shotgun.[break][break]

In the back row, she could stretch out her legs and rest her head against the window; the glass felt cool against her face. “Beep boop,” and she laughed, unable to explain why it was so funny. “Beep boop it's Coop.”[break][break]

Her ribs ached from the proceeding laughter. In the sealed space of the car, there was nowhere for the noise to go. "Fuckin' ridiculous!"[break][break]

His comment would snap her from the fit, almost sobering her for that brief flash of time.[break][break]

“Man, I'm fine. But maybe... uh... roll down the window to get some air,” and she knew that if she let her gaze wander from the confines of the car, she would be taken over by nausea.

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POSTED ON Feb 18, 2020 8:07:49 GMT

[attr="class","spiral"] There is nothing more sobering than the thought of someone puking, aside from actually doing the deed itself. Fernando immediately fingers for the window console and all windows go down quick. "If you're going to puke better to do it now than when we hit the road." He doesn't mention his own personal plea not to hurl in his back seat. Steam cleaning is always a pain and they never quite get the smell out.

"..."

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POSTED ON Feb 18, 2020 8:34:22 GMT

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She could feel his distress.[break][break]

“Chill, chill, I'm not gonna puke,” and she gave a reassuring thumbs up as her eyes rolled up to the ceiling, where everything was bland and gray. “I woulda done it already.”[break][break]

That was the nice thing about owning a motorcycle. If she needed to puke, all she needed to do was look away from the bike. No clean-up necessary.[break][break]

But she had never been sick on her bike before—or drunk. That was just negligent.[break][break]

“Is this gonna be a long drive? No, not cause I'll puke,” and somehow, her fears of the self-driving car seemed to be worlds away as she stretched. “Know how long it's been since I slept in a made bed? Awhile.”[break][break]

There was a pause. “Uh, that sounded more fucked up than it should have.”

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POSTED ON Feb 18, 2020 8:55:46 GMT

[attr="class","spiral"] Fernando doesn't say anything. He doesn't believe her either. He allows a few moments to pass and errs the side of caution, inwardly debating on whether or not to drive off. For now, he stays his foot off the pedal and lets as much time sink in as possible. Time is their greatest ally, right?

"Depends where you want to go? You about to knock out?"

Her last claims escapes him and Fernando remains oblivious.