Angelo's banter is coated in a familiar layer of teasing that often feels like a comforting blanket, unique to the two of them. Affection slipping through between the cracks. But this time his rhetorical question rebounds within her mind like an echo, and her thirst for adventure is put on the backburner. Skyler pauses, brows furrowing, and takes a moment to scan their surroundings.

'It's in a great location, what more do you need?'

Spring sneaks up on a breeze that coasts over sun-baked sands and verdant blooms, rising warm over her skin and carrying the scents of ocean and jungle both. It feels, she can't help but think, like an embrace. Like a welcome. Like coming back after a hard journey.

"Is this your way of convincing me, Angel?" The dare dangles from Angelo's curved mouth, no less tempting for its obvious presentation. Skyler grins, sharp reply poised on the tip of her tongue- abruptly forgotten when the front door slams down, raising a cloud of dust and sand.

Coughing, Skyler rises an arm to protect the lower half of her face. Blinking past years of dust and neglect, the captain peers past the threshold to find a shadowed interior.

"What did the house ever do to you?" Teeth flash sharp and amused as she walks past her husband and into the house proper. 

Most windows are either broken or boarded up, or both. A thick layer of dust rests over every visible horizontal surface, and the sun-speckled wooden floors (due to the many holes in the ceiling) are either rotting or don't exist at all. 

Stepping inside, her nostrils are immediately assaulted by the pungent scent of mildew and salty seaweed. 

"Careful where you step," she tells Angelo, skirting around an area where the floor has completely given way. Wood creaks under her steps. Below, Skyler catches sight of a frothing Krabby before it quickly scuttles away. 

"I wonder who lived here..." The house looked as if it should've long since bowed to the elements and was just holding on due to sheer spite. It had, Skyler decides, a charming sort of character that she couldn't help but admire.

Of course, that kind of admiration suddenly seems a lot less palatable when Skyler, distracted in her thoughts, fails to see the next hole in the floor and promptly falls ass over tea kettle into it.

"Arceus' tits!"

angelo vestri

☉

The edge of a rotted wooden table rests scant inches from the tip of her nose, promising a world of pain - and an epically big bruise - should Angelo not have caught her in time. Her nose tingles in imaginary pain, but she's quick to shrug off the near accident; she goes through enough of these during her workday to have grown desensitized.

What she does not shrug off quite as easily is the amusement that greets her when her husband pulls her up.

"Yeah. My pride just got a bit of a beating," she admits, momentarily admiring the intricate spiderweb caught in her hair, glinting silver in the sunlight. Then, ever so slowly, a smirk dawns on the curve of her mouth, troublesome as they come.

"Ah, Angel, my hero."  Her hand comes to rest on his biceps, deliberately squeezing. Silver eyes flutter in a decidedly non-Skyler move. Is she... swooning?

"My saviour." Yeah, she's definitely swooning. The facade is over the top, clumsy, marred by the wicked sharp curl of her lips that promises nothing good.

Except that her nails have somehow ascended up the back of his neck, and the captain wastes no time in pulling him down to the warmth of her mouth. Greedily getting a taste for what could've been their morning.

It dawns on her that they're standing right next to a kitchen too. Maybe, she thinks, kitchens are simply their kink? Every married couple has at least a handful, right? Right.

Like an old person clearing their throat, the wood planks under their feet groan under their shifting weight. Hesitantingly, Skyler slowly untangles herself from Angelo, eyes darkened by a promise to continue this. Later, she tells herself. Now, another part of her insists.

She ends up drifting to a nearby door, which has heroically resisted the passage of time. For the most part. It creaks horribly when she opens it, and she has to shove herself into it to have it shift enough for her to be able to pass through.

Not that she does.

"Angel." It isn't quite fear that colors her voice, but there's definitely a nervous tinge to it. Huffing with the effort of it, Skyler slams the door closed again, which has the whole structure groaning in displeasure. 

Her eyes find his even in the shadowed space, tension building in those few seconds as she stands quietly considering her options. Face grave.

"Angel, there's-" The captain pauses, looks at the door, looks at her husband again. Then, as if she were talking about certain doom, "there's mushrooms in there."

And given the look on her face, she's probably recognized them.

Well, then.

angelo vestri

☉

To this day, that night long ago spent in a tropical island remains a blur of strange visions and half-remembered delusions. Truth be told, Skyler wouldn't change it even if she could although she has to agree to Angelo's assessment. Behind her, the door to what looks like a small pantry remains stubbornly closed - just in case.

Skyler's nose scrunches when a wayward gust blows through the hollowed out remains of the house, whistling past fallen wood beams to bring a foul odour to her nose. It invades her nostrils mercilessly, and the captain finds her eyes watering. "Ow- what, what the fuck, Angel?" Wood groans as she takes one step back, two. A cough climbs up her throat as the spicy, soured scent thankfully dissipates. "What's in that thing?"

Mold climbs up the jar's surface, sloshing within along with a yellowed, brownish sludge. Little did they know, both Skyler and Angelo would soon become terribly familiar with the substance, be it in the shape of a jam or a liquor. In that moment, however, Skyler simply ignores it in favor of exploring the rest of the rundown fisherman's house.

There's no hidden treasure or cleverly concealed relic to be found within the structure, though not for lack of trying on the captain's part. Curiosity (and a little bit of greed) grab her by the throat and drag her around to dig in dusty shelves and salt-stained furniture. Normally the captain wouldn't spend this long nosing about in a place like this, but-

Her restlessness grows quiet within her hungry, ever-reaching ribcage, caught between one moment and the next. Sunlight splashes across her face from a hole in the ceiling, bringing with it salty brine and the smell of warm wood. The captain finds herself closing her eyes, chin tilted up to allow the golden glow to bathe her neck, like some kind of blind offering. Around her the house groans like a hardy, grumpy old man. And beyond, the familiar hiss of waves lapping upon the shore...

It feels like coming back home.

"Hey! Angel!" Her head of unruly blonde curls pops up from behind a rotted threshold, waving about a small porcelain figurine. As she approaches the pilot, mischievous grin in place, he'd be able to see its faded features: that of a terribly familiar bearded feline, playing with a small yarn of wool. "Got something just for you." 

A mini Dorado.

On the other side of the wall, a hardy wind-chime blows in the warm breeze. Calling them to explore past the single structure in the curved stretch of pale sands and jungle fronds...

angelo vestri

☉

The island, they soon find out, isn't entirely uninhabited. Though the fisherman's house had long since been left to its own devices, to crumble under the weight of sun and wind and a creeping jungle, signs of human presence popped up here and there. Climbing up over a rusted iron fence, they'd found an old dirt path leading from the back of the house and further into the lush jungle.

Most of the path itself hadn't seen maintenance in quite some time, so they'd been forced to dodge past thick foliage in some areas, winding around moss-covered boulders and, once, jumping over a fallen palm tree. Every once in a while, purple-leaved trees came across their path - indigenous to this island, maybe? Skyler had caught sight of its berries and had climbed up one of those trees to grab a few for herself.

The berry's shape seemed somewhat familiar, but then again she wasn't a berry expert.

"Reckon this is good for human consumption?" The scarce light that made it through the verdant foliage hit the berry's surface, highlighting its bold red and yellow coloration.

They'd stopped by a small brook to refill their canteens with some fresh water. The captain's bare feet swung back and forth in the brook as she examined the berry with the air of someone who had absolutely no idea what they were doing. Which, to be honest, she didn't. Not that she'd let that bear any weight on her actions. "D'you think we should give it a try?"

Couldn't be any worse than the mushrooms, right?

The berry is tauntingly waved about, not only for Angelo's sake but also for whichever invisible Lati had chosen to join them in their exploration.

angelo vestri

☉

Teeth bite into the soft flesh of the supposedly Figy Berry, taking a chunk of it and chewing. SKyler finds herself distracted by the tongue that peeks out ever so slightly, by the blue that casually takes her challenge in stride as if to say 'is that all?'.

She hadn't meant to lure him into a competition, but she feels her blood warming in her veins nonetheless, splashing faint pink over sun-kissed cheeks. Not out of embarassment - that had long ceased to exist between the two of them, if it ever had a place there - but out of a sort of excited eagerness.

A puff of air hits the side of her neck and she's reminded of the curious Latias peering over her shoulder to sniff at the berry. Skyler laughs quietly, the sound underlined by a rare gentleness. She boops the Latias on what she hopes is her nose, taking another berry from her pocket. "Curious, cutie?" The second berry is presented to Latias. "Alright, you can have it - as long as you promise not to steal my hat again."

Unwilling to be left out of the action, the captain licks the juice that's dripping down her wrist and sinks her teeth into the berry itself. 'Not bad,' she thinks, taking a second bite. Refreshing, even.

Of course, that's before an inferno of spiciness explodes in her mouth. Skyler's eyes widen, and she immediatelly drops down to all but submerge her head in the brook. 

angelo vestri

☉

It isn't quite the treasure hunting adventure from a year back, but the island does prove to have some tricks up its sleeve. 

They'd find a wide clearing of Alolan Exeggutor munching on the berries, much to the captain's horror. That was, of course, before she'd dared Angelo to try and jump on one. They'd found themselves crashing through the underbrush while trying to dodge Bullet Seeds - which Angelo was becoming an expert at, courtesy of one Dorado.

Of course, the Krabby and Corphish didn't seem too enthusiastic about the two of them crashing into their beach. Pincers, Skyler had decided, were no joke.

By the time they'd made it to the village Skyler's tongue was still somewhat numb from its ordeal and a collection of jungle foliage had decided to make a home out of her hair.

The faded 'Welcome to Figycove' has her narrowing her eyes, but it isn't until they find the Figy tree orchard that the captain starts suspecting a Figy conspiracy of sorts - she wouldn't be entirely surprised if it was being grown as a biological weapon of sorts. 

The houses themselves, those that have not fallen to neglect and abandonment, seem to be a mishmash of materials: wood, rock, beautifully painted tiles. Some of them have been taken over by potted plants, others by the jungle itself. It was, they would learn, a small community of extremely nosy fishermen. 

"I'm not sure we should try it." Her words aren't very convincing when her eyes glint with a curious eagerness. Sunlight glints off the bottle's surface, highlight its amber contents. The handwritten label reads 'Figy Berry Liquor - Extra Spicy'. 

"You going early in the morning, right?" She seems unconcerned with the idea. What's a good adventure without a bad decision or two?

angelo vestri

☉

They ended up buying two bottles. And were offered an extra one.

The clerk seemed more than happy to be rid of them, though less out of a desire to see them gone and more out of a cheerful excitement that anyone had bothered to visit the island. Figycove, he'd explained, was an old and respected seafaring community going as far back as Lilycove. But out of the hundreds that had called it home once, only a couple dozen remained - most of its young having sailed far from its shores in search of opportunities. 

It was still a thriving community, he'd insisted, though that had seemed like an exaggeration born out of a genuine, heartfelt love for the island itself, and its few inhabitants.

Looking around, Skyler couldn't help but feel drawn to its sleepy charm: the cobbled streets that faded to dirt paths in places; the clinking of handmade windchimes in the gentle breeze and the distant crackling of an old radio; the colorful collection of small fishermen boats that bobbed along with the tides, each one unique. The image was burned into her mind and would find its way to her waking thoughts several times in the months that followed.

The way back to where they'd landed was far less eventful, and by the time they were spilled onto the beachy stretch the sun was already reaching the end of its downward arc towards the horizon. Sunlight fading into pinks and oranges.

"What do you say we build a campfire, Angel?" Contentment settles in her eyes when she turns to Angelo, warm with affection. It spills into a smile that is as inviting as it begs trouble. "We have enough driftwood," she motions to the house, "and fuel." If the liquor was half as spicy as the berry in its name, they wouldn't have need for a campfire at all.

She'd missed this, she realizes. They'd both been too busy as of late.

Above, a collection of stars blinks into existence, weaving a path through the cosmos as the crackling of fire and the pop of a bottle being opened prelude a night well spent by each other's side.

The last in a while.

angelo vestri

☉