"good. and i'll be better once this job is done." elijah can sense little within the ramshackle cottage.

nothing out of the ordinary. it is only when one pries too deep do the bugs swarm. they lash out in panic, scattering around in frenetic dances both hostile and confused.

"you know what's inside?" elijah cracks his neck."they're never specific with the job description."

he moves in close to the door: an old wooden board worn down enough like gums with no teeth. he peers in close to a hole.

"who you got with you?" elijah asks. "pokemon."

[attr="class","pkspr"][attr="class","pokesprite pokemon florges"]

zinnia beaufort | POG almost missed this! tag me on site too! i use notifications more often to track my threads.
mission

"sounds shitty."

the relationships sam describes come forth like dried branches of a thick thorn forest. complexity does not come in the way of its main arms, but in the way sharp lateral shoots harass each other in the winds of barbed thoughts.

it is too much, elijah thinks. too much to carry. not worth to cultivate. he'd rather cleave and trim until the the branch is bare.

"you're telling me." elijah adjusts his jaw. "and i'm the worst offender of that. you know that, right?"

he sighs.

"seems like you want to settle though. that's nice."

samuel carter

"a look at the silver lining kinda guy, huh?" elijah snorts, the morbid jest rattling against his rib bones. despite his own thorny reputation, he is careful not to cross giona.

there is little he trusts from a man with moving tattoos—or was it a scar?. especially when they smile. takes more muscles to frown, after all. elijah refrains from looking too close.

his tangrowth mixes the gloom and vileplume together in a bundle of vines. another slam against the earth for good measure. then a careless whisk away of their unconscious bodies.

elijah peers in to the dingy dark, hand clasping its dusty entrance of stone.

"looks comfy enough to be a serial killer's hideout." elijah flattens his lips and stares at giona's espurr.

[attr="class","pkspr"][attr="class","pokesprite pokemon tangrowth"]

giona ferrara
mission

"fine." elijah turns his back to priam. the earthy smell of geosmin tickles the nose with the imagined hint of spring rains. "stubborn kid."

the apothecary pulls out an old blanket from a nearby mahogany chiffonier. grunting, he leans over to ram his toes into the side of an even older sofa. a bed springs out, rusty metal mechanizations groaning as the cushions bounce.

"you can sleep here then." elijah starts beating the blanket with his palm. "when gabby's awake you wanna be rested. not some walking zombie."

elijah's sharp stare hovers at the gabite in rest.

priam conrad

"shit."

what was once a silly summer vignette becomes grave. elijah is used to being the victim of inconvenience—at least, he situates such incidents as such—but to be the potential cause of another's pain is not a part of his job description. the man hoists himself, the broad shape of his torso a desert monolith.

he shifts to his knees at the base of leo's feet as the other's yamper inquires curiously.

"leg? foot?" elijah's hands reach for the left ankle. then the right. he squeezes lightly. "does this hurt?"

leo del río

"it's just basic locotmotor skills." elijah shakes head, a snarl curling at the tip of his utterance. "i also don't want you to fuck up my foraging."

his gogoat decides to settle within the grasses. finding no need to stand among the dusty stars, it falls on to its stomach, handsome head turned in witness.

elijah releases the other from his guidance. on his palms, gold dust traces the wrinkles as if conducting their own palmistry.

"so, the slateport sceptiles any good?"

note: tag me ON HERE so i don't lose your replies you binch!!
@jacob

the apothecary speaks as they walk. leaving the bar is an icy transition; the cool evening air reminds them so.

"tch, you hit the nail on the head." elijah shakes off his sleeves, letting the wrinkles smoothen. however, any movement forces their unruly ridges to form again, like the folds of forehead skin on a frowning face. "i'm the unromantic florist."

he folds his arms together.

"you haven't found anyone yet?" elijah asks. "you're a big hotshot now. owning a fucking mountain. people should be flocking to you."

samuel carter

they arrive at an abandoned home. one forgotten by urban construction, perhaps due to its owners having unexpectedly passed, or it being an eyesore. it is too far from littleroot to truly integrate into its societal sphere and so, it has become overrun with nature.

elijah found this fate to be romantic. a natural, inevitable consequence. however, reports have come from nearby hikers that the bug pokemon inside have become aggressive, as if protecting their own territory. he is sent a partner by the local services board— and when he arrives slightly later than her, it is impossible to mistake her pink hair.

"beaufort." elijah says, his florges sliding in beside him. "what a pleasant surprise. how long has it been?" his words may have have been honeyed by nostalgia in some alternate dimension— but the tone is anything but.

[attr="class","pkspr"][attr="class","pokesprite pokemon florges"]

zinnia beaufort
mission

elijah closes his eyes. lids over a kettle of sighs. however, the emerging light from a vileplume's bud is bright enough to pierce his shut gaze.

"what a bother— look out!"

while the gloom rests, beaten down by vines, elijah's tangrowth mobilizes quick. vines wrap around the aubergine body. they tilt the pokemon back— and the beam fires.

it blasts into the cave mouth and like falling molars, rocks collapse and obstruct the entrance. the tangrowth slams the vileplume toward the floor with its body, the air scorched bitter from the beam.

"feels kinda bad. doesn't it?" elijah says. "they're protecting their home, maybe."

[attr="class","pkspr"][attr="class","pokesprite pokemon tangrowth"]

giona ferrara
mission