"i've been great. busy as a combee with the spring bloom, but you know i love the work." she grins at greyson's enthusiasm. it's not often that he visits, but when he does, she can see that it's something like an escape for him. and just like it is the pokemon that rest in her greenhouse, she welcomes it wholeheartedly. a part of her is proud to know that everything she's done has proven so therapeutic to someone else. 

"of course," she says. "you know the rules." as long as they mind their manners and don't fuss with the property or its inhabitants, what's willow's is greyson's. "but maybe a couple of yours can teach cowslip and buckwheat some manners," she adds, nodding to the tauros. 

"your vespiquen have been amazing for the flowers this year."

Greyson Connors

☉

well, he's true on those fronts. willow has her meditation pillows set up in the shed, but they haven't seen much use in the past few...years. mostly she uses them when she's practicing guitar, but even then she oftentimes prefers standing. 

she looks to the tauros again and says, "honestly, she can have 'em." she's still not happy with buckwheat after his nearly gouging a hole in her side and then nearly doing the same to roman (except he'd gotten away without crippling bruises). 

the water bottle gets its cap screwed back onto it. she loops it around her finger and goes to greyson's side so they can walk the path to the bee boxes together - she'd put down some more stepping stones to help wear the grass down a bit. 

it's still early enough that the vespiquen and combee are out pollinating. she goes to the ramp on one of the boxes and pulls it down. the hive's side pops open, ramp thudding into the grass, and she gestures for greyson to go up. 

"you'll see they took really quickly to the wood. they're nearly all filled with honeycomb. our designs panned out really well. it's slanted just enough for the excess to drip down the slats, but there's still plenty for the bees themselves. i already have a few bottles, unfiltered still, but i've been waiting to try it with you."

Greyson Connors

☉

"well, you heard her." he says to the dual-colored orbs in his hands, moments before he releases all of his pokemon. they emerge stretching, yawning, throwing him glares, and even tossing curious glances around. they were an odd lot, standing next to one another like that.

greyson smiles at em.

"go and play nice. don't get into trouble." the group scatter, catching the attention of willow's own pokemon and moving fast to meet them. the only one that stayed behind, however, was ellie, who floated up to wrap around willow atkins's wrist. she gives off subtle hints of her AROMATHERAPY as she does.

he follows her to the hives.

"i never get tired of seeing these," he says with open awe, walking inside to peer down into the honey catching slots. "wow, honestly, we can probably get these on Sharpedo Tank and make some real money." he laughs, joking. kind-of.

"let's try one of those bottles then, huh?"

PENELOPE LIVY

she gets a little wrapped up in it herself and doesn't quite see the expression of awe on greyson's face, but she can certainly hear it. his comfey wraps gently around her wrist and she pulls her arm up to smile down at her. it makes her stop her fidgeting, her moving, for just a second. she's able to look up and really appreciate all they've done. 

"thank you, you silly sprite," she murmurs.

she shrugs at his comment of going on sharpedo tank. she couldn't think of anything less she'd want to do with her father's work. that's not what this is about. not for her, at least. 

"let's," she agrees, deciding to table that discussion for later, if it ever comes down to it. she'd brought one of the bottles close by, with some gogoat cheese and crackers, knowing he'd want to try it as soon as he arrived. so why not make a special occasion of it?

she exits the hive and plops right down in the grass, delving into the picnic basket she'd hidden beside the hive. the honey's in a small mason jar with a sticker on the front, white save for the black script that says batch 1 - wildflower. 

again, it's unfiltered, so there's a thick consistency to it, with pollen having settled on top. she takes a knife and stirs it around a bit before slathering it on top of two crackers. 

"i haven't had a chance to buy the things we'll need for filters. i'm sure i have some buckets laying around we can use. but i was thinking if you do want to start filtering it, we could save the wax for other things. candles, soaps, i don't know. we might even just be able to sell it to a few people i know who could use the raw material.

"anyway, sit." she pats beside her and holds out the cracker for him. honey dribbles down its side, past her thumb. "and let's toast."

Greyson Connors

☉

he moves to follow, not even remotely surprised to see her just plopping it down on the ol' green earth. he joins her, watching as she pulls out and stirs the honey, then begins to lather it on the bread. naturally he listens, too.
[break][break]
"that's not a bad idea," he starts, cupping his chin with his finger. the possibilities were endless, he realizes. "we could definitely do all of that. i've also seen like, lip balm and even mead. the last one was especially good."
[break][break]
greyson takes cracker, holding it up, careful not to get the sticky liquid on his clothes.
[break][break]
"to a blossoming partnership, and even more importantly, to a dependable friendship."

[attr="class","notes"]willow atkins[break]
mission

[attr="class","wizzcredit"]☉

lip balm, maybe. mead? out of her wheelhouse for sure. there's a lot of science that goes into brewing and gods know when she'll have enough time to herself to make that happen. and the last thing she wants to do is sell out. although maybe she could ask around in downtown fallarbor...see if some of the locals would be into the idea. she knows damn well a connection for cider, at least. 

"my dad woulda liked you," she says with a grin. some of the honey drips off her cracker and onto the grass. 

"here here," she crows, clinking crackers and popping the whole piece in her mouth at once. it's heavenly. rich and malty with a heavy hint towards lavender and clovers - which makes sense, given the abundance of them by the hives. 

her eyes widen and she swallows quickly so she can say, "dang, that's delicious. girls! good work out there!" the combee hum at her praise and continue flitting about the property. 

she dabs a little bit of the honey on her finger and holds it out for greyson's comfey. 

"fairy-types really are so curious." she preps another cracker for herself. "speaking of a blossoming partnership, let me hear more about greyson connors. do you specialize in fairy? or bug?"

Greyson Connors

☉

the fruits of their labor are well worth the wait, explosive richness overwhelming his taste buds. so consumed by the food, greyson could do sparsely little but give the passing bee an overly excited thumbs up.
[break][break]
"these really will sell like crazy," he starts, not even focusing on the financial side of things, "people are going to love it."
[break][break]
greyson appreciates the comment about her father more than she probably knows. he never imagined himself the type of man dads would like, so knowing that it would've been a possibility, warms his little soul.
[break][break]
"ellie is definitely the most curious pokemon i've met," he starts, but tapers off at her pointed, unexpected question.
[break][break]
"i don't really have a type specialty," he says as he cracks a knuckle absentmindedly, "i just kind of geared my teams towards those that like helping people, and most importantly, can keep them alive. it just so happened to be a lot of fairy-types, and with my love of gardening... a lot of bug types." that one incites a chuckle out of him.
[break][break]
"what about you? what's your niche?"

[attr="class","notes"]willow atkins

[attr="class","wizzcredit"]☉

they are going to love it. and sitting here leisurely, tasting the fruits of their labor (and their bees' labor, of course), she can't help the shininess to her eyes. especially when seeing greyson smile the way he is. because damn, if everything hasn't been so hard lately. to have this now - well, it's more than she could ask for. 

"mm," she muses, thinking on his words. it's a strange distinction to make, needing to keep people alive. but hoenn isn't without its need for people who can do just that. 

she really has no scope of what league members like greyson and boruta maher go through on the daily. 

she simpers. "i'm sure if i had time to write a thesis, i could probably get a doctorate in grass-type studies." after years of tending them, tilling them, fostering them, she ought to know a thing or two about them. but she thinks about what greyson said and adds, "but if they can help around the farm, odds are i get along with them."

a few of the grazing deer near them wander over. one of them, a baby stantler, legs stronger now than when bo had first brought her, but still rickety nonetheless, ambles up to them. she dips her head and willow can see the little nubs budding on her forehead. 

"i like gentle creatures," she says softly and scritches tulip under the chin. 

Greyson Connors

☉

as if he was watching a story unfold, he turns his gaze onto the animals around the farm, her words gaining new weight with each new face he comes across. it was refreshing to see another person who wasn't a type-specific trainer; there seemed to be so many now-a-days.
[break][break]
"i can relate," greyson says with a small, appreciative smile, attention fixed onto the smaller deer. "but a little muscle is needed in a job like mine."
[break][break]
behind him one of the bulls honk, and greyson turns to see his delphox lifting it up in a veil of psychic energy. it looked like it was attempting to run on the air, but it was really just flailing to no avail.
[break][break]
greyson sighs.
[break][break]
"and even the occasional hot-tempered ones."

[attr="class","notes"]willow atkins

[attr="class","wizzcredit"]☉

if she were forced, she'd probably go as far to say she does have one type she can't stand. and it makes sense, given her nurturing personality and the fact that everything in her life is susceptible to it. fire. but it's not for those reasons, really. it's because of that spitting, caterwauling cat. that deadly beast of a thing that almost killed bo.

her scratches grow a little too fevered, apparently, because tulip nips at her finger and kicks away, tossing her head. it's a playful gesture, but willow still sighs and follows greyson's gaze. 

the delphox's display doesn't exactly make her stop thinking about how hot-tempered fire-types are. but she doesn't say anything about her levitating bull. 

cowslip snorts and slams into the fence, as though to break it down and get the delphox distracted enough to drop buckwheat. 

"i've been thinking about that actually," she says. she sets her snacks down and wrings her fingers together, frowning. 

"i have no battling experience. and it never really bothered me before, but..." she hesitates. "i want to be able to take care of myself." it's not the whole truth. not the whole why. but she doesn't want to burden him with that. hell, she'd only brought an inkling of it up to lance and look where that left her. 

Greyson Connors

☉

his attention remains fixed on the fire-type, eyes narrowing in irritation. he sends a spike of it in her direction and watches as her shoulders stiffen, slowly bringing the angry bull to the ground.
[break][break]
willow's tone forces him to turn back around to face her, genuinely curious.
[break][break]
"have you considered a teacher, or a class of some kind?"

[attr="class","notes"]willow atkins

[attr="class","wizzcredit"]☉