now that wyndon pharmacutical has established their headquarters — thanks to the likes of both illeana reyes and GABRIEL BLACK — it is only a matter of time before they are able to establish connections to deliver their product. it's the work of @calhoun that helps the most, though rumor has it that the man has found reasons to flee the region once more.

[break][break] all is going smoothly, so much so that jayden decides to visit one of the general pharmacies to get a survey of how they are doing. he accompanies the truck that has the delivery, popping out of the truck amongst the beefy machoke and machamp who are carrying heavy boxes into the back of the pharmacy. with a clipboard in hand, he steps through the back entrance and is about to make his way to the manager's office, when he overhears a conversation towards the front desk.

[break][break] the muffled sounds of a disappointed - maybe even pained - client.

[break][break] jayden blinks.

[break][break] "nagi?"

[break][break] hair-swept back and dressed in a full suit, jayden surely looks a great deal different from the person he had been on that mountaintop. for one, he wasn't wearing shorts.

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

through the fog of his brain, he recognises, in order, a familiar voice calling his name; an unfamiliar business suit and coiffed hair; no exposed knees he can peg a name to in sight.[break][break]

nagi, who rarely finds himself in proximity with well-dressed people in business suits except sometimes on the rush hour subway, has a knee-jerk reaction of immediate, baseless guilt: oh no. what did i do?[break][break]

it takes a few more blinks for him to put the pieces together. [break][break]

"michail?" he says. tries to say. the sound that comes out of his mouth is a lot closer to "mmhghurk."[break][break]

he presses his hand closer to his mouth, mashing his lips into his teeth. [break][break]

shit. don't puke don't puke don't puke—

[break][break]

[attr="class","ooc"] jayden cross [break]


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

there were quite a few scenarios that jayden had expected when he'd called out to the other. recognition, rejection. perhaps jayden had gotten the name wrong — perhaps the out of breath hiker that he had met on that mountaintop was actually a nicholas or a nathan. perhaps jayden had made such a lack of impression that the other wouldn't remember him at all.

[break][break] he hadn't expected nagi miwa to nearly vomit upon seeing him.

[break][break] was he that unpleasant?

[break][break] blinking with surprise, then concern, jayden hands the clipboard over to a nearby marowak and leaps over the counter-top.

[break][break] "are you okay?" he says, hovering. a pause, a frown, and he reaches into his pocket to offer the other a ginger candy. "here — if you're nauseous, this should help."

[break][break]

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

michail’s subtle feat of athleticism is met with a quick upwards quirk of his eyebrows and a quiet, flat-toned “wow.”[break][break]

nagi’s overactive writer’s imagination supplies an image of him attempting the same — ending, invariably, with him getting stuck halfway across the countertop and scooting off on his hands in an ungraceful dismount. he tells his imagination to kindly shut up. he doesn’t need to publicly embarrass himself in his own head, when he’s already managing that with spectacular results in real life. [break][break]

nagi inhales; holds his breath until he isn’t at risk of scattering half-digested coffee and crackers over the tiles. and then, he sighs, reaching out for the ginger candy with a clammy hand.[break][break]

“thanks,” he murmurs — his lips twist over his teeth, in a small, apologetic grimace. “... we need to stop meeting like this.”[break][break]

once — up on the mountain, keeling over from exertion — is chance; twice — in a pharmacy, his cranial nerves folding in on themselves — is coincidence. if thrice is a pattern, then his new acquaintance’s shoes are in mortal danger.

[break][break]

[attr="class","ooc"] jayden cross [break]


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

"you make it sound intentional."

[break][break] his smile is wry as he looks down at the other, expression mildly concerned as he watches nagi miwa get his bearings. from an outsider's perspective, one might wonder if the two were stars in a romantic sitcom, with the ceremonious way they always seemed to meet up.

[break][break] "are you okay, nagi? come here. sit down." reaching for the other's elbow, his other hand gestures for one of the staff to draw up a chair. folding his arms, he looks down at him.

[break][break] "take some deep breaths, and —" he looks up as someone handles him a water bottle, nodding towards them in silent thanks. "drink some water."

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

“peachy,” nagi says, but slides onto the chair with a murmured thanks nonetheless.[break][break]

the water bottle, when it is handed to him, is cool under his palms. he rests his elbows on his knees, curling forward as he leans his weight into them, turning the bottle idly in his hands. the thought of putting anything into his mouth right at this moment makes his stomach roil — dehydration be damned. [break][break]

he grounds himself in the sensation of the cool plastic against his skin, eyes passing between jayden and the staff, before his sluggish, heavy head finally makes the connection.[break][break]

“... you work here?”

[break][break]

[attr="class","ooc"] jayden cross [break]


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

"no." [break] [break]

jayden continues to watch the other as he slides into the chair with a critical eye. the other staff return to their duties, and the rocket admin makes a gesture with a hand to the gurrdurr and mapchoke who accompanied him into the building to continue theirs as well. boxes of pharmaceutical medicine are handed off to staff in the back, full of pills and injections and other things.
[break] [break]

"no," he says again, with a bit of more thought this time, glancing down at the clipboard that is now in his hands to once again over the supply list and make sure everything is in order. ".. not exactly. I'm doing a bit of business here today."
[break] [break]

his eyes glance towards nagi, who still looks like he's about to hurl the contents of his stomach out.
[break] [break]

"do you?"

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

nagi blinks. his overloaded brain buffers. he takes another pondering look, head turning slowly to rest his gaze on the burly pokemon and their heavy loads, squinting to read the text emblazoned across the boxes and, ow. nope. regret.[break][break]

he pieces together enough, at least, to unthread his misconception. he exhales a soft huh, my bad, and murmurs — an off-hand note to himself unthinkingly verbalised, muted surprise laced through his low, quiet tone, “didn’t know you were in the pharmaceutical industry.” [break][break]

his shoulders rise with a quiet puff of amusement at jayden’s question.[break][break]

“yeah. they pay me to stand here. the resident cautionary tale.” he tries for a matter-of-fact monotone, the edges made brittle with exhaustion and exasperation. the bottle in his hand completes another slow rotation as he shrugs. “check your meds before you need them.”

[break][break]

[attr="class","ooc"] jayden cross [break]


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

had he been supposed to mention it?

[break][break] "i apologize."

[break][break] back on the mountaintop, he and nagi had only met briefly yet it had been an amicable enough encounter. still, jayden didn't often make it a habit to brag about his inheritance — since such conversations also involved talking about his past, which he was resistant on doing.

[break][break] his head tilts. "they... pay you?" to do that? he glances sideways at the window of the pharmacy, watching the staff bussle around as other employees seem to unpack the packages and subsequently bottle the bills. they seemed a bit in a rush - though he wasn't quite sure why. "well, i suppose —"

[break][break] his words are caught off, however, as one of the staff stand at the window and wave a hand. jayden starts, thinking it is for him, until she calls out —

[break][break] "mr. miwa! your medications have arrived."

[break][break]

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

he is used to his habitual, unthinking sarcasm being met with irritation, sometimes amusement; being pointedly ignored is old hat. it takes nagi a beat and longer to realise that jayden has taken him seriously. the unexpected, sincere confusion jayden levels him with makes a prickle of guilt tug at him, bramble-sharp. [break][break]

he is saved from having to fumble for an explanation by a chorus of angels. his medication, crinkling in a white plastic bag, sliding over the counter. finally.[break][break]

“that’ll be my payment.” ah, wait— old habits die hard. [break][break]

he peels the leaden weight of his flesh off the chair, and manages to drag himself without fanfare or falling over to the counter. the plastic crumpling under his hand feels like a lifeline. where the blister pack is pressed against the semi-translucent surface of the bag, he can read off the imprint on the foil — wyndon pharmaceuticals. [break][break]

“looks like i owe you my life.”

[break][break]

[attr="class","ooc"] jayden cross [break]


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

his brow arches.

[break][break] what a strange... arrangement. the more and more he learns about nagi miwa, the more peculiar it seems.

[break][break] "it's not a problem," he says instead, watching the other carefully just in case they will slip into unconciousness like they seemed to mere seconds ago.

[break][break] "do you get ill often?" his head tilts as he regards the young man. he'd seemed weak atop of that mountain, and now he had nearly passed out in the middle of a pharmacy.

[break][break] "you should give me your number."

[break][break] just in case the next time that he came across nagi miwa was when he was dead in the street. he would need a number to give to the paramedics.

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

nagi prefers to think that he isn't often ill, as much as occasionally in possession of a collection of lifestyle habits that have a less-than-beneficial effect on his well-being. his poor constitution is a matter of framing. [break][break]

"n. not really," he answers. [break][break]

if he looks a little green as he says it, it's only a trick of the light. [break][break]

then, it's michail's turn to catch him off guard. he blinks. buffers. and carefully — in cinematic slow-motion, to not jar the molten contents of his skull — he inclines his head in a nod. on a scale of magnitude, asking a twice-met acquaintance for his phone number is less of an egregious non-sequitur than claiming to be a professional cautionary tale.[break][break]

"sure. it's ■■■■."[break][break]

he offers his phone to michail. [break][break]

“yours?” [break][break]

[break][break]

[attr="class","ooc"] jayden cross [break]


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

“yours?”

[break][break] jayden hesitates. it's as if only in this moment that jayden realized that in order to get nagi's number, he would also have to provide his own personal details.

[break][break] in reality, there was no universe in which a ceo should give out personal contact information to a simple customer. yet, there was something that made him feel like he ought to.

[break][break] if anything, then to save nagi from a potentially early demise.

[break][break] "here," he says eventually, flashing a smile, as if that mere-second had not lapsed. he sends a text over to nagi's phone.

[break][break] walking over to the desk, having perused the inventory, he hands over the clipboard back to the front desk personnel. they engage in small conversation, in which he makes sure that everything is in order, before walking back over to nagi.

[break][break] "are you sure you're okay?" he asks. "you look... a little green."

[break][break] "we could get a bite to eat."

[break][break]

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