here's what the ensuing conversation conversation might have sounded like:

darkness lady, shrouded in enigma, cryptically crypting: consider this to be the great filter of the fleur tea atelier.
andrea and nagi:
HOLD THAT THOUGHT. BRB


in this strange blob of time at once part of and yet excised from the canonical continuity by the inviolable precepts of plausibility, nagi dangles ungracefully, like a ragdoll on display in his dragonite's arms, and squints his four eyes down the length of the sandbar.

the glare of the sun reflects off the pearly white sands, refracting into a blur of white in his scratched-up glasses. he can't see shit.

"i'm myopic," he says. "i can't see shit."

Andrea Vaneau

☉

"Hmmm, the sun does make it a bit difficult to see." Andrea nodded in agreement. Oh, the struggles of being a megane! Thankfully, she had an idea to alleviate the issue...

"Come out, Lola! Give us some shade!" She said, sending out her Alolan Exeggutor, who was more than happy to fulfill its purpose of literally being a beach umbrella, providing ample shade for the two humans.

The young PokéManiac spotted a Drifblim floating overhead. It wasn't exactly what they were looking for, so she decided to pay it no heed.

nagi miwa //skipping

☉

the exeggutor's shade deals handily with the glare, but not, unfortunately, with the short-sightedness. nagi needs new prescription glasses.

they have more important tasks on the agenda than a trip to the optometrist, however. he squints down the now slightly-more-visible strip of sand, sees a moving blob of blue and taps a hand on one of the dragonite arms hooked under his armpit.

"is that a teacup?"

the dragonite loosens his arms, sending nagi plummeting down into the soft sand beside andrea. in the interim between nagi eating and un-eating dirt, the dragonite sends a hurricane down the sandbank. when he’s finished sputtering grit from his mouth, nagi gets a closer, ground-level look at the blue blob. it’s a hapless, wind-buffeted marshtomp. oops.

he throws a pokeball at it, nonetheless — she could come in useful. maybe! he would like to get something as recompense for all the sand in his mouth, at least.

Andrea Vaneau
attempting to catch marshtomp

☉

Andrea was beginning to lose hope. In another vector of this non-linear timeline they'd already found the treasured teacup they were here to look for in the first place, but the hunt for oddly specific Pokémon with oddly specific applications didn't just end there. At this point, overcoming all ten challenges of the Atelier seemed like a distant dream...

But then she looked at Wooper, and all was right with the world. The wild Water type was simply standing there, trying to uplift the girl with its immaculate vibes. And it worked! With a wide smile that mimicked the Wooper's own, Andrea reached down to pet its round head fondly. "You're sooooo cute~!" She cooed, the armless axolotl responding by closing its eyes and squirming happily.

"Do you wanna be my friend?" The draconic cosplayer asked, meaningfully pointing at a Pokéball. It was definitely a gamble to ask for its consent instead of choosing the much easier route of battling it, but only a heartless bastard would ever knowingly inflict harm on a Wooper.

nagi miwa //attempting to catch wooper

☉

another blob of blue shifts in the distance. his dragonite narrows his eyes at him, awaiting the next blow in a volley of stupid statements, but nagi is close enough now to recognise that it isn't remotely teacup-shaped.

he lets the simipour shimmy by, and watches andrea coddle the wooper instead. a vacant stare, a wide smile, all set into an oversized, impeccably-round head; he can see the appeal.

he points at the wooper, glancing back at his dragonite. "is that a teacup?"

Andrea Vaneau
skipping!

☉

"No, it's not a teacup. It's a Wooper and I love her." Andrea replied to a confused, legally blind Nagi, while cradling her newly acquired Wooper in her arms like a baby. Her baby specifically. She would treasure it forever.

Meanwhile, a wild Clauncher pinched Meatloaf's tail with its slightly enlarged claw. The Salamence shot a furious glare at it, causing the tiny lobster to run away for dear life. It wasn't gonna try its luck against a pseudo-legendary Pokémon.

nagi miwa //skipping

☉

nagi returns his dragonite to his pokeball, to spare the long-suffering soul any more psychic damage. in his place, sherlock emerges in a flash of red light, settling comfortably on nagi's shoulder.

and just in time, as well; a haunter swoops over, ectoplasmic hands stretched out, drawn by the momentary gap in their defenses — only to be batted away by sherlock's hex.

not a teacup; maybe useful. before the haunter can gather its wits again, nagi tosses a pokeball its way.

Andrea Vaneau
attempting to capture haunter

☉

"Ooooh, nice catch!" Andrea gave Nagi a thumbs up for successfully capturing that Haunter. Of all places to find a member of the Gastly line, a sunny beach was the most unlikely. The effects that space-time distortions had on Hoenn's ecosystem were becoming more and more apparent.

A Staryu was washed ashore, the red jewel on its body flashing in and out at irregular intervals, as if delivering an encoded message of impending doom. Lola the Alolan Exeggutor decided that she wanted to be useful for something other than providing shade for the two humans, and fired a super effective Bullet Seed at the Staryu, rendering it unconscious.

"Not bad, Lola. I wonder what it was trying to tell us... Oh well." Andrea shrugged, throwing a Pokéball at the Psychic starfish.

nagi miwa //attempting to catch staryu

☉

"morse code?" nagi takes a moment to root through his brain for the dusty, decrepit shelf housing his week-long, spy-film-fuelled obsession with cryptography. "i think it said mrbo."

while nagi returns to earth from his jaunt through his mind-attic, sherlock stares at the floating mask, hovering over the water's edge.

the mask stares back at sherlock.

"oi." nagi shrugs his shoulder. sherlock bobs up and down; but their mutual, ghostly gazes remain unbroken. the yamask drifts in closer, until it is hovering right by sherlock — and also uncomfortably close to nagi's own face, staring and still.

"right. um." silence, and more staring. why are ghost pokemon like this. why is sherlock like this. nagi has a foretelling of his impending doom. or his impending tension headache.

as the twin abysses gaze deeply into each other, nagi tentatively flicks a pokeball out at the yamask. might as well seal his own fate.

Andrea Vaneau

☉