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Something was wrong.[break][break]

Bailey Cooper could tell by the drag—the way her motorcycle seemed to favor one side as it sped down the rough, country path—that something had gone amiss. The tire pressure gauge was burning bright on her console, letting its orange light flash as she cupped a hand to the display to keep the sunlight from obscuring her view.[break][break]

“Shit,” she murmured, unable to hear her voice over the rumblings of the engine.[break][break]

Her hand decompressed, easing off the throttle to bring the bike to a slow, gradual stop. As the bike slowed, the sound of the tire slapping against the ground met her ears. “Shiiit,” and now the young Sergeant could view the damage. Did she run over a nail? A stray rock? Something had broken through the protective hide, letting air hiss out from her front tire.[break][break]

It was a brand new tire, too. [break][break]

Bailey removed her motorcycle helmet, hanging it from one of her handlebars as she pushed down the kickstand to prepare to inspect the damage... but first, she performed a quick scan of her surroundings. [break][break]

The road seemed empty. Good. “Now, where did I put my plug kit...”

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in hindsight, dominic could hear was something wrong by the sound alone. something with one of the wheels, mostly probably.

his contact is meant to be a red-haired young woman — rosemary. from behind a tree, dominic watches the motorbike come to a stop, watches even more intently as the rider takes off her helmet and sighs into his cigarette when he sees brunette.

unsure whether to be exasperated or not, he sends a quick one word message to rosemary — "reschedule" — and approaches carefully. dominic has enough self-awareness to know that he cuts an imposing silhouette for the unsuspecting, and he has no interest in getting in unnecessary confrontations on a country roadside.

"lucky you're not far from town."

Bailey Cooper

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Her attention was divided.[break][break]

Bailey Cooper dug a hand through one of the saddlebags latched to her motorcycle, trying to feel for the hard edge of her plastic kit. Another hand groped the flat tire, peeling up the flab to find the puncture wound—it had been easy to find. There was no need for her to tilt over her bike to perform a full inspection. The tire had been slashed from the side, away from the tread, where the rubber was thin and asking to burst. “Figures,” that would take extra work to patch over.[break][break]

It was a voice that snapped her from her thoughts, startling her. The young woman bristled, springing herself up from her crouch by the balls of her feet like a fire-type that had just been introduced to the concept of water. “Who in the goddamn—?!” Were the first words that she spat as she spun to see who had decided to skulk out from the dark.[break][break]

A hand had gone to the waist. A capsule had already been snapped... but the Sergeant does not let her hair-trigger response go any further. “You trying to give someone a heart attack? Who does that?” That was followed by a wheeze as Bailey felt her heart slow its rapid pace.

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dominic freezes in his tracks and the surprise kills his scowl. he blinks once, twice, confused as if she had struck him.

"who does what?" he says slowly, raising the hand with the lit cigarette innocently while his eyes dart to follow the way she reached to her side, undoubtedly for pokemon capsules. honestly, he can't resent it, it's a rational response in these times.

"go for a smoke near the lake and enjoy the sunset?" it's not, strictly speaking, untrue.

dominic looks past her to the bike, inclining his head with sudden curiosity because it looks potentially kanto-made. he juts his chin at the bike.

"what's wrong with it?"

Bailey Cooper

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“Whaddya mean who does what? Like you weren't.. just... freakishly quiet,” and Bailey Cooper failed to find fault with his actions—failed to justify her own wariness as her eyes inspected him from head to toe.[break][break]

It was a quick glance. A quick snap as her eyes went down and back up, like she was sizing a threat. It was a dick move, but people had to be on high alert.[break][break]

The guy did not look welcoming. Maybe it was the indifference of his features or the cigarette in his hand. It was a rough look that the Sergeant would have appreciated, if it wasn't for the looming presence of Rocket.[break][break]

Bailey had never been the type to judge. The war had forced her to bend that way, like she had been a screw wound into a socket that was too small—stripping it down. “In the middle of bum fuck nowhere? You do you,” and despite her words, Bailey managed to drop the edge to her tone as she tried to lax her shoulders.[break][break]

“Got a flat,” and the tip of her boot would press into the tear of the rubber.

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he watches her watch him; narrow-eyed, but otherwise remarkably relaxed. he takes a drag of his cigarette and lets the smoke coil from his lips, something languid and draconic about it. yes, it is the middle of nowhere, and yes, he doesn't belong here. doesn't belong anywhere in hoenn, really, the kanto dialect of his voice gives away as much.

dominic raises one shoulder in a half-shrug but makes no move to explain himself further because, in truth, there's absolutely nothing he can say that isn't overwhelmingly suspicious.

commotion a short distance up a craggy cliffside moves his attention from the bike to the gathering dust. yowls, rumbling of rock, he's reaching for a pokeball in spite of himself before the source can reach them. his hand forces him to hesitate and shoot a cautious glance to his present company.

the choice of released pokemon is selective only because if she is spooked at him, the blood-soaked maw of his houndoom will do little to assuage her any more. skarmory is the most neutral pokemon he has, and the bird swoops in quickly with an air slash that brings the two fighting pokemon apart. grabbing the smaller of the two in its talons, the pokemon tosses it to his feet.

weavile. cute. the species seemed so exotic when he was a small child in saffron. that figures, the world felt much smaller back then.

dominic glances briefly at the young woman and is almost self-conscious when he throws a pokeball to secure the capture.

Bailey Cooper

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“Same shit, different day,” and the Graveler was all that remained.[break][break]

Bailey Cooper was unperturbed. Disputes between wild pokemon were common. If Hoenn was in better shape, the antics of wild pokemon would have likely occupied a majority of her day as an Officer of the League. Instead, she had to worry about people and the threat that they could pose. Wild pokemon were no longer of any concern. They were just a distraction that could no longer be fully managed. Even Rangers were starting to neglect their duties in the wake of Slateport. Roads were not as safe as they used to be. [break][break]

Which was why she remained wary, even if the slack was gone from her shoulders. She knew what happened when Rocket caught someone unaware. Bailey had no intention of subjecting anyone to that misery—she had already experienced her fair share of it.[break][break]

The pokeball capsule in her hand burst.[break][break]

The Graveler may have disengaged from the Weavile, but the trajectory of its attack had not been so easily swayed by the Air Slash. The rock-type had executed Rock Blast, sending shards of shrapnel in her direction.[break][break]

It was all stopped by a single hand—a hand that easily dwarfed Bailey's body as it was raised up as a shield. Her Darmanitan. Bumbo took the brunt of the blow, huffing plumes of steam as the massive fire-type turned to regard his boulder shaped foe.[break][break]

SUPERPOWER was all that needed to be used as the Darmanitan grasped onto the Graveler, repeatedly thrashed it into the ground—into submission with one hard slam that made the ground quake.[break][break]

The Sergeant threw an empty pokeball to the defeated rock-type, turning back to the stranger after he finalized his capture. “You like Dark Types?” Of course he did. He looked the type. “They're pretty neat,” and Bailey was not so shallow as to assume that Dark-types were evil—just mischievous.

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dominic cocks his head sideways, watching with great interest as she makes quick work of the graveler. roused by the commotion, apparently, a rhydon lumbers down from one of the crags, but it never gets the opportunity to draw closer. the skarmory flutters awkwardly close and rakes its steel talons across the wild pokemon's hide, dipping slightly out of reach any time it tries to retaliate. he tosses a second empty pokeball out lazily.

maybe it's a personal short-coming; mastery of one specific type meant that his team is lacking when faced with foes with more diverse set-ups. dominic has always brushed it off because this is more than sufficient for what he wants or needs to accomplish. and he'll happily play dirty and call it pragmatism, typings matter little at that point.

"got into them to spite my parents," he says casually and flashes a grin, showing pointed canines.

dominic's eyes settle on an immobile, cocoon-like creature resting against one of the trees behind the woman. he juts his chin at it to draw her attention to it.

"won't you look at that? as if on queue." his eyes narrow at her, but it's not unkind — part challenge, part encouragement. "go on. you might grow to like them too."

Bailey Cooper + rhydon capture attempt

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The capture had been a success.[break][break]

Bailey Cooper brushed the dirt from the newly filled capsule. What would be a good nickname for a Graveler? Granite? No, that was too literal... the Sergeant bounced the pokeball in her palm, knowing that something would have to come to mind eventually. Until then, she would just have to focus on this current moment—on her bike and on the stranger.[break][break]

Getting into dark-types to fulfill the urges of teenage rebellion? Yep. Bailey could relate to that. “I feel that.”[break][break]

A Ryhorn was drawn into the conflict—it was probably enticed by the sound of conflict. The Sergeant does not bother to acknowledge it as she returned Bumbo back to his capsule, where the fire-type could save his brute strength for an actual threat—the capsule still bouncing in her hand. [break][break]

Bailey would have to deposit the rock-type when she got to the closest Pokemon Center; but, who knew how long that would take? She still had a tire to fix. [break][break]

“Hm?” Her eyes snapped back to the man as he gestured to the shadows, to something that shone silver when a hint of light caught the outline of its shell—that was supposed to be a challenge? It looked like a glorified Metapod.[break][break]

...Did this guy actually know what he was talking about? She looked back to Dominic. “Dude. That's a steel-type.”

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he blinks.

there are many things about hoenn's native species that dominic isn't familiar with, but this isn't one of them. this is one of the few things he's actually pretty certain of. surely it's not that unusual for a pokemon to shed or gain typings on evolution. if that alone was the error he wouldn't be surprised — but a steel-type?

"huh," dominic manages eventually, his surprise giving way to a mischievous smirk, and he gives an exaggerated shrug. "weird creatures."

Bailey Cooper

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She squinted.[break][break]

Bailey Cooper was no pokemon expert—she only knew of the pokemon that she had caught, learning from one species to another when it was necessary. Every observation she made was inferred or guessed. Some people went out of their way to accumulate as much trivia as possible about pokemon. She could never see the point.[break][break]

“Well, fine. Maybe its a rock. I dunno. Some rocks look like steel types,” or vice versa. “Like a fucking Aggron, or something--but that don't look like a dark-type.” and her pride motivated her to reach for an empty capsule, wanting to be right as she chucked it at the shiny cocoon. The thing had looked like it was sleeping. Why bother getting into a fight and waking it up?[break][break]

The Sergeant pulled out her cellphone, opening the pokedex app while she waited for the capture to process.

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