Unusual things dominated Elisha's history, from his earliest memory up to the current date. A playground swing of surprise that always found a way. And so the sweet chariot swung low once more, mounted by an appetizer joke. Easily top 10, he knew.

There were many stupid things that teased his tongue, little feather flicks that he ignored. The effort to save his giggle for a better joke formulated his expression ("formulated", because his expression now probably looks just like the word sounds), and a snappy head shake defines his response.

Crouching, searching through his bag, Elisha says: "I have an A-muk—" he tapped the pokeball to palm size, opened it—"a slowbro—" repeat—"a durant." Muk stared at the stranger, blobbing as he often did. Slowbro examined its own busy hands. Durant, battle ready, would feel like a mass of pent up energy waiting to explode if the stranger could notice such things.

Pulling the bag open, Elisha turned it, allowing the newcomer to see the wealth of food stuffs inside it. "If it helps. But thank you. Would you like it in singles or in doubles? And which one do you wanna fight first?"

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noah faber

He glared up at the stranger from his crouched position, statued gaze shrinking to a curious squint. His lips briefly formed into an "o", but he sealed them just as fast as it happened. He knew enough to not look too surprised. "My guess would not have gone that way. But it makes sense. Your words are a patron's shimmer."

Two red lasers found their mark, accompanied by an apology to durant. Only muk remained, rolling after Elisha, collecting gunk as the two put a fair amount of distance between themselves and their opponents. Elisha tapped his phone to life again — a quick internet search, and then: "Noah, it says? You can call me Ish. Or Eli, if you like."

He told Muk to stand firm. The creature looked back at him, more timid than anything. Fighting wild pokemon was different. It was life. None of them viewed themselves as a team, but rather as a pack. Yet Elisha insisted that muk look ahead, adding that Noah had something that they had to match, a curious something that went beyond his patron's shimmer.

If they failed, chances were that Noah wouldn't enjoy the battle. They had to act like they'd been here before. "Face our disadvantage and overcome. Hit him hard. GUNK SHOT."

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- a regular spray and pray gunk shot

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noah faber