“watch where you’re—”[break][break]

wait, isn't he— [break][break]

nagi takes a step back. hands up, palms out, mouth half-open and halfway to a bitten-out barb; the braced-for-impact posture of someone who, a split-second ago, thought he was about to be mowed down. he remains frozen in that pose as the rest of his brain catches up with his subconscious, and places three-dimensional vectors to the two-dimensional face he hazily recalls from the newcomer's brochure he speed-read on his ship into hoenn. [break][break]

the question takes a little longer to process. [break][break]

his hands begin their slow descent as he thinks; sinking down to his sides when he finally answers, slow and pensive: “... not along the path up here.”[break][break]

a lost child, in these mountains? he's no upstanding model citizen, but he is still enough of a responsible adult to feel a sharp sense of unease at the thought.[break][break]

“do they have any other distinctive features?”

[break][break]

[attr="class","ooc"] Greyson Connors [break]


[attr="class","pkspr pkmn-litwick"]

"damn." he mutters aloud, the growing concern of not being able to find this child mounting. soon enough it would be an avalanche that wouldn't just end with him.
[break][break]
"features?" the question comes automatically, as if his own brain was verbalizing the process of understanding. then, it clicks, and he snaps his middle finger and thumb, index pointed at the stranger.
[break][break]
"he does." of course he does, why was greyson suddenly remembering this now? "blond hair, mullet, you know the party in the back, business in the front thing?" the stranger probably knew, but he couldn't help himself. "anyways — overalls, red t-shirt, rain boots. about yeigh high?" again he emphasizes the kids height, forgetting that he'd done it moments before.
[break][break]
"haven't heard anything, have you?"

[attr="class","notes"]nagi miwa[break]
mission

[attr="class","wizzcredit"]☉

blond mullet, overalls, red-shirt and rain boots. nagi pieces together a picture in his head as greyson repeats the description. his heart sinks.[break][break]

"no. not up this side of the mountain," he repeats, turning to glance back at the path behind him. dirt and grass and the odd hiker trekking up the steep path curling up the side of the mountain. no unaccompanied child of yeigh-high height with a memorable fashion sense.[break][break]

he falls silent after that, hand darting into his pocket to curl uncertain fingers around his pokeball. this is the kind of thing he should leave to someone else, someone qualified. a ranger; the police. this guy. [break][break]

but — a child alone in the mountains. [break][break]

god. dammit. [break][break]

he pulls the pokeball out of his pocket, sending a dragonite up into the air above him. [break][break]

"... i can help search. how long has he been missing?"

[break][break]

[attr="class","ooc"] Greyson Connors [break]


[attr="class","pkspr pkmn-dragonite"]

he can trace the indecision in the other man's features, and despite the seriousness of the situation, he didn't blame the strangers hesitancy. this kind of stuff could go either way, and the toll it could take on ones psyche if it didn't work out?
[Break][break]
well, greyson didn't want that trauma, if he was being honest.
[Break][break]
"fourteen hours. mom was found delirious and dehydrated, but was able to give us a starting point - here." he emphasizes the spot with a finger pointed downwards. "so, i figure two heads are better than one and we can split up, meet back here in an hour?"

[attr="class","notes"]nagi miwa

[attr="class","wizzcredit"]☉

fourteen hours?[break][break]

if the mother was found delirious, then the child — [break][break]

nagi presses the point of his nail into his palm. cuts that train of thought off.[break][break]

“okay.” tension bleeds into his voice, syllables shaking. “i’ll start searching northwards. smaug,” his dragonite, for once, waits for his instruction without complaint. “see if you can find anything from the skies.”[break][break]

nagi grips the straps of his bag, and turns to step out in the direction he indicated, before pausing to look back at greyson again. [break][break]

“do you have a phone? in case i find — something. it might be quicker to call.”

[break][break]

[attr="class","ooc"] Greyson Connors [break]


[attr="class","pkspr pkmn-litwick"]

wordlessly greyson turns his attention to the interestingly named dragon. it was as plump and yellow as his own, sol coming to his mind for a moment, before it's overwritten with the task at hand.
[break][break]
as the two begin to separate, nagi's pinging him a question. he blinks, realizing that he'd completely dropped the ball.
[break][break]
"shit, yeah. one second," he fumbles around for his wallet and takes out his trainer card, handing it over. "i've got copies." flashing a quick smile he thumbs behind him, already moving.
[break][break]
"remember, one hour!"

[attr="class","notes"]nagi miwa

[attr="class","wizzcredit"]☉

the tips of nagi's fingers have barely closed around the card before smaug is taking off with a flap of his undersized wings. casting a final glance at greyson's receding back, nagi follows.[break][break]

it takes only ten minutes before his pace starts to flag; walking has never been part of his narrow set of life skills. overthinking, on the hand, is. relying on the low thrum of jittery anxiety to keep his fatigue at bay, nagi makes his way down the steep northwards path of the mountain, marked by a experienced hikers only sign that he reluctantly disregards. his mind races; a stutter-stop film reel of worst-case scenarios.[break][break]

he spots it at the same time that smaug does. off the path, halfway down an incline: a glint of colour, hidden in a grey-brown copse of shrivelled trees. [break][break]

smaug reaches first. he dives over, and plucks the object out of the dirt as nagi stumbles his way down the slope. his round, clawed fists hold it up to the glare of the sun, so that nagi can see it in the light — pikachu-yellow, velcro-strapped, and child-sized. [break][break]

a shoe. [break][break]

he unclenches his fist from around greyson’s trainer card. drops his phone as he fumbles it out of his pocket. crouched in the dirt, grit scratching up his screen protector, nagi starts talking as soon as he hears the dial tone end:[break][break]

“i think— i found something.” panic bleeds his voice dry — turns his words clipped and toneless. “a child’s shoe on the hiking path to the north.”

[break][break]

[attr="class","ooc"] Greyson Connors [break]


[attr="class","pkspr pkmn-dragonite"]

cardio wasn't greyson's favorite thing either, admittedly. add-in the hot weather, and the fact he'd already been searching for some time, he too was beginning to flag. only the frustration of finding nothing kept the weakness at bay, and that too had a shelf-life of soon.
[break][break]
his phone vibrates and he pulls it up, eyeing the unknown number.
[break][break]
was it nagi miwa already?
[break][break]
"he-" his greeting is drowned out as nagi speaks immediately, and while it was typically rude, greyson didn't admonish the stranger. for the first time all day, hope begin to rise from it's seemingly fathomless depth.
[break][break]
"to the north? flag me down, just in case. see you in a flash."
[break][break]
it was easier said than done to summon a psychic pokemon with your thoughts, but his mind screamed his intent, his call, and soon enough the distorted pokemon responds.
[break][break]
in minutes they're in the air, hand cupped over his eyes like a visor, looking for the stranger and his dragon.

[attr="class","notes"]nagi miwa

[attr="class","wizzcredit"]☉

at the other end of the line, nagi nods — even if there is no one but smaug to see him.[break][break]

he sets his phone back in his pocket, and reaches up to take the shoe from the dragonite. the soles are worn and caked with soil, the printing along the sides scuffed up from daily wear. there is no blood; no dramatic tears. no obvious signs of a struggle, but that means little in a world where children are warned about sentient ghost balloons spiriting them away.[break][break]

“smaug.” his dragonite’s huffs, blowing a warm line of air over the top of nagi’s head. “fly up. see if you can find anything, but stay within sight. please.”[break][break]

as his dragonite jets upwards, nagi plants a stick down in the soil, marking out the position where they found the shoe. then — he waits, with a patience strung thin and dry. squinting against the glare of the sun; watching for movement. for greyson. something.[break][break]

[break][break]

[attr="class","ooc"] Greyson Connors [break]


[attr="class","pkspr pkmn-litwick"]

greyson lands in a flurry of wings, and squawks. the braviary variant pulses out something to soothe the worries of nagi miwa as it lands, though beneath his breathe, greyson chastises the pokemon.
[break][break]
dismounting, and carrying a sheen of sweat on his brow, he jogs up to the other man.
[break][break]
"you said you found a shoe? was it here?"

[attr="class","notes"]nagi miwa

[attr="class","wizzcredit"]☉

like a cool breeze, the pulse from the braviary soothes nagi’s agitation. the humming-beat pulse thrumming at the inside of his wrist slows. nagi’s eyes flicker up to it with surprise, at first — braviaries, as far as he knows, are not typically capable of psychic pulses — before settling into muted but sincere gratitude.[break][break]

he can save his questions for later. [break][break]

“right here.” he holds up the shoe, offering it to greyson as he gestures with his other free hand at the stick he had planted in the ground. [break][break]

“we haven’t found the other yet. smaug’s still looking.”[break][break]

overhead, smaug circles in a widening gyre, flying low enough that every wingbeat rustles at the grass and shrubbery beneath him.

[break][break]

[attr="class","ooc"] Greyson Connors [break]


[attr="class","pkspr pkmn-litwick"]

greyson inspects the shoe, before grunting indignantly. what could he possibly discern from the thing? he wasn't batman; how foolish he must look right now.
[Break][break]
"i wanted to avoid this," he says with a sigh, putting a hand on the feathered pokemon. the braviary trills in response, an unspeakable bond between then. "i'm going to have my braviary send out an active ping to every creatures mind within' a large radius. steel yourself, stranger, it will he unpleasant - like a dial tone poured directly into your mind."
[Break][break]
satisfied, greyson turns towards the bird and nods.
[Break][break]
then comes the headache. it lasts for seconds, before fading, but it still seems to linger - an effect if the brain
[Break][break]
braviary stiffens, looking in one direction. wasting no time greyson hops on the creatures back, looking up at the dragon once, before extending a hand of his own to nagi.

[attr="class","notes"]nagi miwa

[attr="class","wizzcredit"]☉

even with the warning, nagi can’t imagine what a dial tone poured directly inside your mind would feel like — until he suddenly can. he raises his hands to shield his ears on instinct, but it's his brain that is screeching. a headache like a high-pitch, echoing before it tapers off, leaving behind an unfamiliar reverberation in his skull. [break][break]

he has no time to linger on the sensation, though. between the ping fading and nagi’s next blink, greyson is up on the braviary’s back, one arm outstretched towards nagi. he flicks his gaze back to his dragonite, curving in its ponderous, searching arc some distance away.[break][break]

fourteen hours. mom was found delirious. [break][break]

he takes greyson’s arm, and swings himself up onto the braviary’s back behind him.[break][break]

"let's go."[break][break]

smaug will catch up.[break][break]

[break][break]

[attr="class","ooc"] Greyson Connors [break]


[attr="class","pkspr pkmn-litwick"]