There was never such a thing as a 'quick drop to the market' anymore, not since Angelo had settled in Lilycove.

There was always a local eager to chat or a member of his company side-tracking him, turning the whole thing into an extended visit. Not like the Nautica owner minded being wrapped up in the dockside community. Not at all. 

Today was just another one of those days. 

List of ingredients tucked back into his pocket, Angelo taps a finger against Latias's shoulder just as she begins to poke the Rotom phone screen... face? 

“Hands where I can see 'em.”

Like she'd been caught in the cookie jar, Latias's arms lift in surrender and an unapologetic smile blooms.

Silently, she waves at Vanilla Kingsley in return and steps back to Angelo's side.

“Don't mind her, I swear she's wild sometimes.” The irony is not lost on Angelo, kept to himself and the eon pokemon like an amusing private joke. “Your phone's still in one piece, right?” 

He hadn’t expected the phone to answer.

Turning towards it, the screen flashes with a familiar smile. While he may not be the most tech savvy person, Angelo had a Rotom of his own helping him back at the hangar - stowed away in the computer systems of his plane. 

“Then you've been hanging around in all the wrong places, buddy. Don't know what I'd do without my own Rotom.” Angelo grins. “Their loss.” 

Thankfully Latias hadn't damaged the thing, saving him the headache of trying to weasel out of paying for a replacement. 

Turning back to the girl, blue eyes take note of her hand gestures with interest. He didn't know what she was saying (without the Rotom translating) but it had to be sign language, right?  

“Angelo,” a palm taps against his own chest in a show of identification before gesturing towards the girl at his side, who’s now rocking back and forth on the balls of her high-top trainers. “And this is Lottie.”

Latias gives the silent girl a salute.

“Well then, Vanilla. Welcome to Lilycove. Are you pre or post dome?” He asks, conversationally. As he oft finds himself doing at the market.  

“Fresh off the boat, then. Here's Hoenn treats you two well.”

Why this young girl had decided that transferring from Galar (which had seen its own fair share of bad luck) to here would be a good idea, was a mystery to Angelo. One that he wouldn't try to solve. She probably knew the risks. 

“Well if you're looking for a region to get some experience as a trainer, you've picked the right one.”

While Latias wiggles her fingers about in a crude attempt to copy the girl's sign language, blue eyes catch an inquisitive, questioning look. He smiles.

“Two already? Good start, kid.” With his hand, Angelo pushes aside the edge of his jacket to reveal six capsules lining his belt. Lips turning into a playful curve. “Think I've got you beat, though.” 

Her Rotom Phone was a chatty one, pulling Angelo's attention back his way when he lets the corner of his leather coat fall back into place. 

“I live here.” Angelo chuckles, gesturing a thumb along the harbour in the direction of home. “Just picking up some ingredients. This place is my go-to.”

His eyes crinkle at the corner in a smile when he catches his disguised companion attempt to sign. Latias's golden hues following the real human girl's demonstration carefully.

“Don't give yourself a concussion.” He tells the psychic type, as her hand extends away from her forehead and back to try again a little too vigorously.

Latias ignores him, instead signing to him with her newly learned 'hello' before repeating it to the Rotom phone and Vanilla Kingsley in turn.

Angelo pats her head. 

“Would it shock you to hear that I probably cook more than I battle?” Comes the chuckled reply, taking a pinch of satisfaction for diverting expectations.

He is the designated cook back home, after all, by desire to live. Not like he wasn't keeping tally of meals made to pokémon training, mind you.

“Baking though? You've probably got me beat. It's not my forte,” he admits, rummaging through his pocket for the ingredients written on a piece of paper. “Though saying that, I'm giving my father in law's recipe a shot today. Thought I'd take the risk and bake my wife's favourite.” 

He tilts a nod towards the bag that Vanilla shows him. “What're you making?”

There's a pause as Angelo processes the comment on his appearance. 

One second. Two. Then he shatters it with a bark of laughter.

“None taken. I'll take that as a compliment, actually.” Judging by the flash of teeth and how he pretend toys with his jacket collar, clearly the roguish man did not mind. 

Their talk turns away from bad guy aesthetics to food and Angelo can't say he minds too much, he always had time to listen to a little culinary conversation. 

“If you need some recommendations for signature dishes to try while you're in the region, let me know. Lilycove has some great ones, mostly seafood, if you're into that.” 

Vanilla's offer does not fall on deaf ears. Neither Angelo's nor Latias's at the mention of free cakes. The pilot can almost feel her golden eyes weighing on him expectantly... 

“How could I say no to a self-confessed 'mean baker's' free offer?” He smiles, never one to turn down a freebie. 

Angelo encourages them away from the middle of the market street so that the small group now stands at the edge of the dock. Beyond an old, metal railing and a small drop, the ocean laps against stone walls.

Its there he and 'Lottie' are handed eccles cakes, with an explanation from the rotom that they're safe for human and pokemon consumption. 

“Smart idea.” 

Sweets weren't really his thing, not really.

Free food however, was.

Latias looks ecstatic, signing the newly learned 'hello' gesture at Vanilla again in thanks. Her flaky pastry is rapidly devoured in a spray of crumbs. Her human companion in comparison, takes a generous bite.

Angelo finds it still moist in the center, even if the crust wasn't completely fresh from being in Vanilla's bag. 

“I don't know if it was what you were going for but it's not too sweet,” he says as he looks down at the halved cake, expression thoughtful as he swipes sugar granules from his lips. “I like that, though.”

She'd asked for critique, so he obliges by pointing to the roomy shell interior. “Your pastry has held up really well. You could probably get away with stuffing some more berries in there, don't be shy about being generous.”

A glance is thrown towards Latias, who has gotten flakes all over the floor but magically none on herself. “Looks like its a hit.”