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[attr="class","wildtitle"]A WILD FRAXURE APPEARED!

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Earth trembles beneath his boots, trees rustling with a frantic quiver as the world threatens to descend into seismic chaos. Even though the activity is no doubt a common sensation to the island, a Fraxure still scampers past his feet in a desperate bid for cover.

But Angelo doesn’t move, hand unhurriedly rising to shield his face when sunlight suddenly bathes him. Shadow of the mountainside shifting as a piece of it breaks away.

“It's just me, pebble! I know I'm kinda earlier than usual!” He calls out, sombreness temporarily broken to greet the towering form that lumbers his way.

Chip, of course, doesn’t mind the unexpected visitation.

With trees straining at the roots to accommodate her presence, the mountainous form of a Roggenrola manifests before the pilot. Chip leaning down to stick her ‘ear’ as close to him as she could.

Calloused hands reach out to pat the rough surface of her body, warmth radiating beneath his touch. Consciously, Angelo leans into it – the memories are fresh today.

“S’good to see you…”

notes; skip

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[attr="class","wildtitle"]A WILD POLIWHIRL APPEARED!

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An unlikely pair sit by a river edge where a group of Poliwhirl play.

A skybound wanderer, untethered and restless, keeping the company of a three-story tall Roggenrola he’d found deep beneath the earth, who's happy spending her time basking on a slab of stone.

If it was any other day, then Angelo might’ve laughed at the irony of it all.

“Y’ hate to say it, but the year really flew by…” His voice echoes around the bottle of rum that had been making frequent meetings to his lips, staring towards something unseen.

Memories ensnaring the pilot’s attention as he leans back against the warmth of Chip’s side.

A whole year, huh… Angelo takes another taste of the dark liquid he’d brought with him, its terrible quality improving with each swill. Proof his tastebuds were starting to turn pleasantly numb.

Sometimes, most often when his head hits the pillow, it felt like scarcely a week had passed since he’d nearly taken his last breath down in the sandy tombs of the Regirock Ruins.

And Auriga had given hers.

“S’rry it took so long to fin' this place for you, Chippy – you like it here though, right?” He says instead, rather than bringing up the Dragonite he’d lost, even though grief weighs heavy in the air.

But Angelo had never been good at talking about things like fears or troubles or burdens. Not his own, anyway.

And so sometimes a man just needed to kick back on a private island with his rock buddy, getting pissed on bottom shelf rum, to see a rough day through.


notes; skip

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[attr="class","wildtitle"]A WILD CORVISQUIRE APPEARED!

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The next morning greets Angelo far too brightly, even beneath the shade of a colossal, sentient boulder.

“Agh, fuck…”

Through bleary, wincing eyes the skies above swirl in a hypnotising spiral. Clouds spinning over him in such a way that, had his head not started to pound like a herd of Donphan had trampled him, Angelo might fantasise they were encircling him – pulled into his gravity.

Alas, not this time.

He could charm the will of the skies no more than the alcohol in his system could evaporate at the snap of a finger.

With an irritable groan, he rolls onto his side with the intention of closing his eyes a little longer, facing Chip for shade as she dozes still in a way that makes the earth beneath him shiver.

His grumbles soon turn to a jolt as something hard digs between his ribs, calloused fingers fumbling for whatever he’d rolled on only to pull out a newly filled pokeball.

Hadn’t he thrown a bunch of the poorly aimed spheres at something last night…?

Something, something, Overgrown Wingull.

Ah, whatever.

With the Corvisquire’s capsule still in hand, Angelo slumps back down into the dirt, an arm draping over his face to fruitlessly quell the thudding behind his eyes. (And unknowingly hiding the destruction left in his drunken wake for later.)

Just a little longer, then he’d fly home when the world stops spinning…

notes; catching corvisquire