She didn’t know how Isaac had talked her into trekking out into the middle of the desert to see him knock up dust on his ugly, belchy, pod-racing ass motorcycle. Oh wait, yes she did-- he’d said, I have a motorcycle, would you like to see it?

He also made her laugh, so that helped.

Still, she hadn’t been out here since the botched transceiver business with Nathara, and she didn’t particularly miss the place-- not the dry heat or the fierce winds. Even as Isaac made his fifth rip around, she still wasn’t entirely convinced the function of his bike outweighed the form. Not only was it uglier than sin, but it was a walking-- er, driving-- incendiary nightmare, what with the exposed and protruding engine block sitting at the front of the bike.

Something like 65% of collision happened in the front end of the vehicle. Just some food for thought.

“I actually didn’t see, because you were so fast,” she said, the sarcasm thick and heavy. She stepped around the massive eyesore, wincing every now and then, hands in the pockets of her shorts. She’d brought her tools and her own Totodile, Gremlin, whom she suddenly remembered at the mention of Watson.

“Phio, can you-- thanks,” she waved at her shiny Kangaskhan, who was dutifully carrying her kit. Phiona found Gremlin’s Pokeball and released him. He was large for a Totodile, and also dumb for a Totodile, which, in Cyg’s experience, was saying something. He grabbed a wrench out of Cyg’s tool bag and went to cram it in his jaws. Phiona snatched it back, then turned him around and pushed him away, like getting a reluctant agoraphobe to go outside.

“I don’t know, Isaac,” Cyg said, once she’d done her first one-over. “It’s fast and powerful but god help you should you ever crash.”

Isaac Merlo | ground, grass, rock

☉

Gremlin jumped into the air at the offending splash, gargling in the classic, panicked Tototototototo, arms flailing; he landed and spun around, caught sight of the perpetrator, and beelined for him, tail and tiny arms thrashing behind him as he ran super fast.

Meanwhile, Cyg almost felt bad for the poor guy, as his face when from proud to crestfallen to fearful in short order. She sucked on the inside of her cheek and hummed in sympathy. Yeah, all those drag races on TV? Done in highly controlled, very short instances? Still very dangerous, even in highly controlled, very short instances.

“Yyyyeah,” Cyg offered, more than pleased to let him come to his own delusions. Er, conclusions. “It’s not… bad. It’s just, also, not safe.”

Back in baby crocodile land, Gremlin had not noticed Watson stopping, so great was his glee, and bowled into Watson as the smaller Totodile was coming back the opposite direction, sending Gremlin skyward and flopping and rolling down a dune. He landed at the bottom in a sandy puff, popping up like a Trapinch out of its hole.

The Krookodile looked down its nose at him, obviously disinterested, and took a step over the half-buried Totodile in the sand. As its tail slid overhead, Gremlin’s jaws went up and snapped fiercely around it, sinking deep into the muscle with a crackle of ice. The Krookodile yelped and broke into a sprint, chugging its arms to get its heavy body moving as its tail flailed and flopped around, with Gremlin’s teeth dug in for dear life.

Cyg watched Isaac with curiosity, now no longer worried about the deathtrap that was his motorcycle. Then, the Krookodile roared and started rushing towards them. “Oh,” Cyg said, almost bored; Phiona stepped in the Krookodile’s path, grabbed the beast by its shoulders and used circle throw to whip it around and then smash it into the ground.

The stunned ‘gator stared skyward for a moment before Cyg tossed a Pokeball to collect it.

She looked to Isaac, who was decidedly not bored.

“...you okay?”

Isaac Merlo | catch attempt krookodile
ground, grass, rock

☉

Isaac may have been taking a very traumatic trip down memory lane, but Cyg had noooooo fucking idea what was going on. Watson was just-- jumping around in weird sunglasses and doing strange dances and Cyg, none the wiser, just chocked it up to weird Totodile things, yeah, weren’t they a funky bunch?

Phiona checked on Gremlin, who was none the worse for wear, while Cyg stepped over to Isaac. She waved her hand in front of his face and just barely held off on snapping her fingers. “Heeeey, buddy,” she tried, leaning into his field of view, “you in there?”

He shocked back into himself like electricity leaving a socket, eyes flashing open and rattling on about bike safety nonsense. Cyg pressed her lips into a thin line and looked at him under lowered eyebrows.

“I mean, you look like you’re about to have a panic attack, but okay,” Cyg said, unhelpfully. And sure, maybe, it really was Isaac realizing that every second he spent on this deathtrap of a motorcycle was a step closer to his own demise, but somehow, she doubted it. “Do you want some water, or something? Phiona!” Cyg turned to her Kangaskhan and waved her over; she crossed the space between in heavy steps and pulled a bottle of water out of her pouch, offering it to Isaac.

“Also, are you gonna catch that thing?” Cyg asked, pointing at the Turtwig.

Isaac Merlo | catch attempt krookodile
ground, grass, rock

☉

Isaac’s mien is like rictus in the face of a corpse-- decidedly pained and, Cyg realizes, completely malapropos for the wit and brightness usually playing out in his expressions. She definitely does not like it.

So when he rubberbands back into his own body from wherever the hell he was before, she wants to clap her hands, done and dusted, and get back to the problem at hand, i.e the insanity that was his stupid motorcycle.

He curses at her, and she grins back. There he is. But her grin falters as he shares the little tidbit about his dad; it turns into something afflicted-- her own diarrhea smile. He keeps talking and she’s listening, she really is, but her own mind is churning.

Slowly, like she can’t even believe her own body is doing it, she reaches out and puts a hand on his shoulder. Squeezes.

“My mom once told me,” she says, trying to pick the right words because this isn’t a competition, it’s just relating, “that she wanted me to choke and die.” As a baby, no less. Cyg’d been born with the umbilical cord wrapped around her neck, purple as a shiny Kecleon.

It meant she’d wished Cyg had never been born.

I’m never getting out of his shadow, am I?

She pushes on his left shoulder, grabs his right, and shakes him.

“Fuck your dad!” she says, violent and delighted and with a maddened grin plastered on her face because fuck that guy for draining the life out of him? “Fuck him! Who needs him? Not you!”

Then she tugs him close and throws an arm around his shoulders, fist-pumping the air as she declares, “Fuck all the parents!”

Gremlin to-TOs in solidarity, but Phiona hmmphs, arms crossed.

Isaac Merlo | skipping spawns

Isaac’s mien is like rictus in the face of a corpse-- decidedly pained and, Cyg realizes, completely malapropos for the wit and brightness usually playing out in his expressions. She definitely does not like it.

So when he rubberbands back into his own body from wherever the hell he was before, she wants to clap her hands, done and dusted, and get back to the problem at hand, i.e the insanity that was his stupid motorcycle.

He curses at her, and she grins back. There he is. But her grin falters as he shares the little tidbit about his dad; it turns into something afflicted-- her own diarrhea smile. He keeps talking and she’s listening, she really is, but her own mind is churning.

Slowly, like she can’t even believe her own body is doing it, she reaches out and puts a hand on his shoulder. Squeezes.

“My mom once told me,” she says, trying to pick the right words because this isn’t a competition, it’s just relating, “that she wanted me to choke and die.” As a baby, no less. Cyg’d been born with the umbilical cord wrapped around her neck, purple as a shiny Kecleon.

It meant she’d wished Cyg had never been born.

I’m never getting out of his shadow, am I?

She pushes on his left shoulder, grabs his right, and shakes him.

“Fuck your dad!” she says, violent and delighted and with a maddened grin plastered on her face because fuck that guy for draining the life out of him? “Fuck him! Who needs him? Not you!”

Then she tugs him close and throws an arm around his shoulders, fist-pumping the air as she declares, “Fuck all the parents!”

Gremlin to-TOs in solidarity, but Phiona hmmphs, arms crossed.

Isaac Merlo | skipping spawns
ground, grass, rock

☉