frustration wells and she watches helplessly as lus continues to ignore her. not that he's really actively ignoring her because she's floundering and can't find the right words. her cheeks puff out. her brows furrow. she hasn't felt this bad since...

rather than go under, she sucks in a breath, takes bo's criticism in stride, and smacks her hands together. the clap startles lus, who turns right as thwackey lands behind him. 

lus is too slow, the thwackey too agile. but it's had to get close to land a hit.

she steels herself. "lus! stand your ground!" the heracross looks uneasy, but raises his claws, eyes narrowing at the thwackey. her voice still shakes as she calls out orders. 

and if thwackey comes back in for another hit, she'll order a close combat. 

boruta maher

☉

the heracross buzzes with delight when two of his attacks land. but both trainer and pokemon make the mistake of thinking that it's one and done. this is a battle. and bo wastes no time with ordering thwackey in on the offensive. 

thwackey comes in fast and lus is slow to defend. the attack may not be very effective against him, but that doesn't mean he still doesn't earn a nasty whack on his arm. he rattles and that buzzing noise gets louder.

she can't remember what else he knows, but it doesn't matter. her halfhearted cry for another pin missile goes unheard as lus stamps his feet and tries to ram his pronged horn into thwackey with an attempted brick break. 

boruta maher

☉

the heracross makes up for the enthusiasm that willow lacks. herein is the same reason she refused to get a controller for herself to play with roman and bo. she hates feeling inadequate. give her her comforts and her space and her habits and her wealth of knowledge about all she needs to know. 

but put her out of her comfort zone? absolutely not.

just do your best. she doesn't know when he got so gentle. so patient. and when he turns, she watches his walk. his broad shoulders, the gait of his hips. lus looks between the two of them and tugs willow's hand, breaking her gaze away right as bo turns back around. 

"thanks, bud," she says with a smile. the heracross' antennae twitch. "now, go on. let's try to do this."

typing disadvantage. really, she only knows the basics. fire? certainly not her friend in the greenhouse. all of her plants and her pokemon are susceptible to it. and she's known some of the grass-types to get fussy around her bugs - no one wants their leaves getting nibbled on. 

so to hear some of lus's bug-type attacks will give them an edge against thwackey is old information that she's only just now understanding. 

"okay," she says to herself, "i just have to think about how it all connects."

because sorting bouquets is just like battling, right?

she wracks her brain trying to thing of the moves lus knows. she'd written them down somewhere... but there's no time for that now. (and besides, the paper is on her kitchen counter.)

"lus, try pin missile!" the heracross' wings rattle and silver needles spray out towards the monkey. 

boruta maher

☉

as soon as ollie's moving gingerly around her back, leila looks at willow out of the corner of her eye. and willow could swear she's smirking at her. but she just rolls her own eyes and keeps her hands out in case ollie slips. which he doesn't, of course. that's probably the real reason leila likes him so much. he's so careful, so gentle, even when standing on top of the giant pokemon's shell. 

"nope, that's perfect," she says and stands on her toes to grab the bundle. she crosses to her dad's workbench to set it down so she can hurry back to ollie and make sure he gets down alright. 

she holds her hands out for him. "c'mon. as tempting as it is, i don't think leila wants you to stay up there forever."

ollie morales

☉

he wants to say something and she bristles, prepared to argue for the priority of grace's well-being. the very reason they'd come here in the first place. but he concedes quickly and she relaxes. grace's weight on her has increased since they'd started walking and her breathing is labored, despite the terse smile she's putting on. 

willow can't blame her; she'd probably do the same. 

"no, take care of things here." she hesitates. "i have my cell. call me if you need anything." and, feeling mostly useless, she allows the alakazam to place its hand on her shoulder and take them away. 

the teleportation is nauseating. she's never done it before, so she's spinning when she comes to. she clutches grace tight and the woman also looks a little green in her cheeks. fallarbor's hospital is a small one and they're lucky that it's not busy. 

someone rushes up to help them as grace limps in against willow. and shortly after, willow's sitting down in the reception while grace goes in for her exam. greyson's alakazam stays beside her, a weird presence that she tries to ignore.

nervous, she grabs her phone and gives him a call. 

Greyson Connors

☉

despite her attempts at deflection, he still insists. it's sweet, really, but she can't help feeling annoyed with herself that she can't hide it better. she's not an open book by any means, but she should be strong enough to make sure he doesn't worry. to not make her problems his problems. 

lance broke up with me out of the blue and i don't know why it bothers me so much. she thinks about making the shapes with her mouth, but there's more than just stubbornness that stays her tongue. pride. a sin she's always danced the line of, but at least in the sense of her accomplishments, she deserved to feel it.

but admitting to bo that it didn't work out?

she shakes the thoughts away again and wills them to stay there. focus on the task at hand. get the work done. think about this later (later, later, later - the inevitable later that always exists and never becomes now). 

willow sticks a finger in her mouth and whistles loud. lus stops his prancing around the tree and flits over.

"lus is most excited, i think," she says, feeling not quite so excited herself. she shifts her weight and laughs nervously. 

"i feel ridiculous. he, uh, knows a lot of combat moves? mostly he uses them to get sap from trees, but..."

boruta maher

☉

she's not a detective, but this is her jurisdiction. this is her soil, her home turf, her creatures. and it doesn't take a genius to know something is wrong here. but willow can't think about that right now. first thing's first - she needs to take care of grace. 

and despite the woman's protests that it's not that bad, she refuses to put any weight on her leg and each step makes her wince. she'd a hard, stubborn woman and willow will be damned if she hurts herself further because of it. 

"no," she says, tightening her grip on grace. "i need you to help me get her to a hospital. please, greyson. we can look into this after."

Greyson Connors

☉

if she were forced, she'd probably go as far to say she does have one type she can't stand. and it makes sense, given her nurturing personality and the fact that everything in her life is susceptible to it. fire. but it's not for those reasons, really. it's because of that spitting, caterwauling cat. that deadly beast of a thing that almost killed bo.

her scratches grow a little too fevered, apparently, because tulip nips at her finger and kicks away, tossing her head. it's a playful gesture, but willow still sighs and follows greyson's gaze. 

the delphox's display doesn't exactly make her stop thinking about how hot-tempered fire-types are. but she doesn't say anything about her levitating bull. 

cowslip snorts and slams into the fence, as though to break it down and get the delphox distracted enough to drop buckwheat. 

"i've been thinking about that actually," she says. she sets her snacks down and wrings her fingers together, frowning. 

"i have no battling experience. and it never really bothered me before, but..." she hesitates. "i want to be able to take care of myself." it's not the whole truth. not the whole why. but she doesn't want to burden him with that. hell, she'd only brought an inkling of it up to lance and look where that left her. 

Greyson Connors

☉

not a brat? hah. leila chuffs in agreement to ollie nonetheless and willow rolls her eyes. she drops one knee to the ground and crouches there, fingers knitted together to give ollie the boost he needs. and when he nears, she stiffens her shoulders and grunts as she hoists him up. 

she doesn't really work on the farm a whole lot. her father does most of the heavy lifting when need be (though lately his back's been giving him some problems) and ollie's here when they need him to do just about everything else. but rather than complain, she furrows her brows and thinks through the burning in her shoulders. 

looks up at ollie instead and smiles. "oh, no, that's thai basil! get the one with the green stems instead, ollie." 

ollie morales

☉

with introductions made and grace satisfied, the elderly woman hobbles back up the steps of her front porch. she hasn't needed a cane until quite recently. a bad fall on her hip after a swarm of combee and vespiquen left her in quite a state - though willow knows the current state of her farm is more pressing than her own health. 

which is why it's so important that things get repaired as quickly as possible. 

"yeah, it's this way," she says. around the side of the house lay the culprits. willow crouches next to the porch; some splintered wood, singed at the edges, is in the shape of a narrow hole going underneath the foundation of the house. 

willow reaches an experimental hand forward and angry chittering resounds from inside. she withdraws and looks at soleil. 

"i thought maybe of flushing them out, but i'd feel terrible if they end up getting hurt." they don't mean to be a bother.

@sole

☉

leila is practically putty in ollie's hands. willow steps back, arms crossed, watching him in that quiet, lazy way of hers. she slouches to the side and listens to the plant pokemon rustle, leila's happy grumbles, and the careful snipping of ollie using the clippers. 

and a small part of her is sad, for a moment, wishing she could share this with the person who's hurt her most in this world. 

she shakes her head and stops her staring to prep some of the fertilizer and a healthy bowl of nuts and berries for the old torterra to munch on. she also grabs a pack of teddy grahams from the cupboard (it's good to have snacks handy in easy to reach places if roman needs some distracting). 

she pops the bag and skips over to ollie. since his hands are full, she holds a couple out in pinched fingers in front of his lips. 

leila shuffles from side to side and grumbles like a crotchety old woman. "see! leila, you're too old to be a brat. stop being mean just because ollie's here." the torterra snuffs, blowing dirt, and gives her tremendous body a playful shake.

willow points up to the torterra's back. "i'll give you a little boost? miss komkowski asked for a bushel of white sage." apparently fairies were getting a little too comfortable around her property again - upturned flower pots, broken bird houses, and weeds sprouting through the cracks in her sidewalk. 

"and i think she wanted some sweet basil too." 

leila snorts again and stomps. willow sighs. 

ollie morales

☉