he enters with little noise. little fanfare. self-consciousness settles on the bare skin of his neck, for the rendezvous's clandestine color paints imagined scenes with embarrassment. should anyone know the prerequisites to this meeting, they would believe this encounter to be romantic rather than noble.

but elijah doesn't believe it to be either. he's here to deliver a gloomy prognosis. to toss bones into a fire already filled with a skeleton.

"it's just the two of you, right?" elijah wrestles the bag from his shoulders. it dips low, but he catches it from slamming on to the floor.

as he wanders over to the bed, elijah passes greetings in favour for inspection. the tone of skin. his weight. the pendulum of breath and the depth of that bow.

"nova... introduce me." he says, muttering under his breath. elijah sets his bag down before unzipping it to retrieve a pokeball.

@nova

"yeah, i'm a friend." elijah lets the pokeball roll off his fingers. as it cracks on the floor, a florges blooms to full height. "but if you say anything about me to your parents, i'll speed things up. if you know what i mean."

the florges spreads her pale arms and the room fills with floral perfume. AROMATHERAPY to calm— and to compensate for elijah's lack of tact.

"so... leo. how do you feel today?" elijah speaks with little change to his tone. he glances over at nova and bobs his head toward his bag. "pull out my toolkit, will you?"

@nova

elijah accepts the toolkit and offers thanks in the cut of a curt grunt. he sets it on the bed, turning a small wooden knob. like a jack-in-the-box, it springs open with a rattling of glass vials and humble tools. the heady scent of herbs stuck too long in a wooden chest wafts alongside the florge's own incense.

"head hurts." elijah mutters. "and when did this start happening?"

he looks to nova, eyes locked with hers as he reaches toward her with his hand. but his hand passes her and brushes through his florge's mane. one comb through produces several petals which he places into a stone mortar.

elijah offers the mortar and pestle to her. "grind these petals down for me. you're gonna need some elbow grease." he pauses before leaning in to whisper. "cute kid— but does he lie as well as you do?"

@nova

"well, now you're the one who's in trouble." elijah says to leo. the tension settles into tears— and to stave off the awkwardness, he points at nova's paused fingers, his brow arched like a digital ping as if to order: resume.

"freaky mud, huh?"

images of his breloom stain his thoughts. he remembers the creature in the woods. the tentacles. rocky limbs latched onto disorganized bodies like ribbed, industrial pumps, and the toxic tides of some otherworldly sewage.

"did you see a weird pokemon too? like a white octillery donning a hat." elijah glances at nova, his stoic face wrought with a layered shade of dread.

@nova

"mm."

elijah listens— and eventually steals the mortar and pestle back. from his bag, he retrieves several ingredients, corked in small vials. each containment of glass looks like an ecosystem. a mess of moss, herbs and seed.

he finishes the job with these seasonings. produces some odd concoction that looks neither edible or appetizing. perhaps, it is worse than the mud leo speaks of.

"he's right. growlithe can't talk." elijah's florges smiles. "alright, leo. drink up. you can plug your nose cause it tastes like shit."

he sets the pestle down on the peak of his bag before passing the stone mortar to their patient. elijah's gaze glides over to nova.

"make sure he drinks it." he attempts to tug a towel out from his bag— but it catches on the stacks of knick knacks deep within. elijah grunts, "make sure he drinks it all."

@nova

his florges looks on with an eerie stillness. although vibrant with life, the pokemon moves with such precise poise that it seems like a statue. a galatea figuring out what is to gesture, to breathe.

as the sludge pours forth, elijah grunts. he wipes the remaining residue with his mitt underneath the towel before folding it so that the icky stain is covered. he places it underneath the other's chin like a bib.

"your headache should be relieved. for now." elijah stares at nova, eyes like fearful lightning. "leo, mind if your sister and i take a step outside?"

he gazes at his assistant, the florges' white hand anchoring on to the edge of the bed.

"her name's illusen," elijah says to leo. his florges thick lids raise lightly. "she'll treat you nice."

he moves to the hallway with an impatient step.

@nova