bobby's about halfway through her cigarette, huffing out a mix of tar and spearmint, when she hears a rattling. she's been on edge since she was a kid. she had to be. so her head's on a swivel and that swivel turns to face the source of the noise.

it's coming from the alleyway across the street. the outskirts are mostly a ghost town but they're not completely without life.

the nidoking tearing up a dumpster makes momentary eye contact with her from across the way. a couple nidoran circle his legs and nip at his armor.

"don't mind me," she mutters, probably too quietly to be heard from this distance, "we've all gotta make a living."

she turns away from the sight and the rustling resumes.

@wildmod
skipping the nidoking

☉

it's about half an hour and three cigarettes later when there's another disturbance. the cawing of murkrow overhead, so distinct it only makes bobby jump a little bit. she pulls her half-spent cigarette from her lips to look up at where the murder have landed on a rooftop. they're momentarily obscured by the haze that slips from her lips.

unlike the nidoking, the murkrow pay her no mind. they scan the ground for carcasses and discarded refuse to fall upon. in the absence of anything noteworthy they take a moment to preen one another -- maybe a stray joltik has managed to burrow in under one of the flock's feathers and may serve as a snack.

bobby will never know. the deeper call of a honchkrow gets the crowd of underlings' attention. they soon join a large silhouette in the sky and fly off in search of a more fruitful roost.

bobby turns her attention back to the street. considers the concrete at her feet, littered with ashes and crushed smokes, and thinks about days half a decade old. when she'd run around at the behest of the older and wiser to make her living.

it's not so different now, she figures. but then why does she miss it so much?

@wildmod
skipping the murkrow

☉

bobby stomps out her fifth cigarette and figures that's about enough for this smoke break. before she went to prison she generally smoked twice as much, so some people would call it a twisted kind of progress towards quitting. for the sake of not having to try too hard to do better bobby is one of them.

she pops a few more mints in her mouth and shifts them around so minty saliva coats the whole of her mouth (the mints clicking and clacking against each other all the while) before turning to leave. imagine her surprise when she almost bumps into a warm body.

"hey watch where you're fuckin --" she's halfway to cursing out the stranger when she notices some odd things about them. mostly the purple skin and the uneven limbs. right, not every pokemon is piss scared of people. the toxicroak stares down at her.

she doesn't look pissed or especially happy, kind of neutral. she's baring all her teeth but not in an aggressive way. just kind of like she does that no matter what. to her credit, it's endearing. bobby can't help but smirk up at her, even as the pokemon starts patting at her sweatshirt and jeans.

"ah ah girl, relax," she chides her before reaching into a back pocket and pulling out a fruit bar, "lookin' for one of these?"

it's snatched out of her hand and the whole thing vanishes into the toxicroak's mouth wrapper and all. she expects the pokemon to choke, but a moment later she sticks her tongue out and the wrapper is crumpled into a ball.

"nice trick."

the toxicroak spits out the balled up foil and smiles. a real one.

"how am i ever gonna leave you out here if you keep flashing those pearly whites at me?" bobby asks with a sigh and a tentative pat to the head. toxicroak allows it.

"well, come on then."

@wildmod
capturing the toxicroak

☉