she's tending to the bee boxes. Greyson Connors 's vespiquen had taken immediately to them and the fruits of their labor left them with a great deal of relief. the combee really only come out during the afternoon hours, when the sun is at its peak and it's warm enough that their wings don't seize. 

willow checks the hives, their health, the honey stores. she's had to pour some of her own honey for them; they hadn't had the luxury of a long spring and early fall to make what they could to survive out here alone. it's a loss she's okay with, especially because she can see how happy the pokemon are all nestled up inside. 

she closes the latches and breathes into her hands, warms them and licks a trace of honey from her fingertips before shoving them back in her gloves. 

the cattle still need feeding. her clients have all been checked up on - watered, trimmed, frostbite treated, etc. - and now it's her personal duties she has to catch up on. 

i really need to hire a farmhand, she thinks as she grabs a pitchfork from the side of the barn.

boruta maher

☉

i'll take you soon. and just like that, a plan for a second date. she thinks that this must be going really well, despite the bit of awkwardness that lingers about the corners. but that's normal, especially for a first date. it means they're not moving too fast. 

she nibbles quietly while he eats. the pie really is delicious. probably some of the best she's made. it always helps that grace's berries provide so much flavor, so really she should attribute her success to that.

"oh, i can certainly get behind the petrichor. it's wonderful here after it rains." it doesn't surprise her that he enjoys battling. she's never much been one for the sport. sometimes she'll take her pokemon out to stretch their legs, but most of the time she leaves them to their own devices on the property, warding off critters that would nibble on the garden.

"oh? what brought you to hoenn?"

LANCE VOLLANS

☉

"that'd be great, actually. bo's good with the projects that require more handiwork. a lot of my more delicate patients need a bit more care." and she has a feeling greyson would be more than happy to learn how to tend to her menagerie of plants. that is, if he isn't already competent with things like that. 

"well, we've plenty more room on the property, as long as they can behave." mamo tromps off, deciding that the delphox can handle helping will. 

she steps back and looks down at their progress. the base boards are all set in place. now they'll have to hammer in some of the steel panels that'll make the cast to hold all the honey. she gestures for lus to take the hammer from greyson. 

Greyson Connors

☉

elisabet joins her. she's thought many times over about visiting the safari zone, if only to watch some of its inhabitants' pokemon in their somewhat unfamiliar habitats. but now, with the burning desire to actually get her ass out into the world, she thought this might be the best way to do so. 

so she treks through underbrush, gideon and thistle at her heels.

SAFARI WARDEN

☉

she exhales a tension she hasn't felt in years. the last few times she'd tried to re-enter the dating pool were rather sorry attempts. mentioning roman, or kids in general, typically made the conversation tense, withdrawn. but maybe she's finally just getting older and i don't even know if that's worse.

regardless, she's smiling as she bites into her own piece, and beaming by the end of it. her cheeks hurt. "well, i guess we have those things in common. except the baking, i see."

she reaches for the fridge handle and grabs it, tugging it open. she pours a couple of glasses of milk and actually stops dilly-dallying. she takes a seat at her dining room table - another handmade antique of her grandfather's. 

"i like ciders. and fresh honey. flowers mean a whole lot to me. and i've been thinking about that spot outside lilycove ever since you mentioned it." she takes another bite. "your turn. tell me things about yourself. please."

LANCE VOLLANS

☉

willow reaches up to one of the vases sitting next to the "mud room" (which was more just like a mud doorstep). she plucks a stem of honeysuckle and rips off a couple of petals, sprinkling them on the floor to distract roman's grookey so he can get his boots on. she's happy he's found a grass type to liken to, but grookey can be mischievous little things. 

"don't talk about adelaide's tits like that," she says and scrunches her nose. "or anyone's tits."

she plucks another couple of stems and pretends to ponder his words. it won't do to say anything more to him. no amount of you're not a fuck-up is going to right the wrong he feels. so instead she shucks up her shirt and shows him her ribs. 

her entire left side is a sickly green and purple. "i messed up, too. thought our new buddy cowslip didn't see me coming when i was bringing him some hay, but lo and behold."

she winks. "don't worry. i won't let him get ya though."

Roman Maher

☉

she raises a brow. the maher family seems so...detached from one another. which is odd, considering they all live in rustboro. bo hasn't really been actively withholding over the past couple of years when it comes to family, but he certainly hasn't chatted about them as much as she'd like. 

"i can barely make time to get to lavaridge or rustboro myself. i can't imagine that commute." granted, she's heard that some psychic-type trainers have been able to train up pokemon who can teleport rather consistently. 

elisabet stalks forward. she attempts to dodge a barrage of glowing leaves, but stumbles. green blood sprays from her side and she chitters irritably, readying her blade-like arms. leaves quiver and she slashes down. the chikorita flies back and stumbles. 

willow throws a ball and then checks on her leavanny. "alright, gal. it's about time you rest." she returns her to her ball and then grasps another. 

thistle has little interest in battling, but enjoys stretching her legs. the bulbasaur emerges and grins happily up at willow and company. 

CIAN MAHER
catching chikorita!

☉

flowering plants and succulents frame the kitchen window. her father was big into stained glass and so little trinkets hang from spots all about the kitchen. the fridge displays a calendar, of little reminders for herself and roman, for adelaide. it's a simple look into herself. 

with her back still turned, she checks the temperature of the pies, pulling off the foil to make sure the tops hadn't browned. "oh, i made quite a few so it took some time. normally i have my son help me, but he'd rather wreak havoc on my garden lately."

she turns. one generous piece sits on one plate, a smaller one on the other. she hands the bigger one to him with a fork and chuckles a bit nervously. 

"just going to put this out there. i, ah, haven't done this in a while." she gestures between the two of them. "seen someone, i mean. so just, i don't know - there's no pressure. i think you're nice and handsome and oh, i'm going to stop talking now."

LANCE VOLLANS

☉

he listens, just as he's listened these past few months. and she's watching him as she speaks, and she's thinking, i wish i knew what you were feeling. she could ask, because he'd tell her, but part of her is sad she can't read him like she used to. although, could she ever? 

after all, the leaving had been sudden, whiplash against promises made only days before. 

he extends a hand and at first she hesitates, but his words wash away her reluctance. her eyes soften and she rests her hand over his. it's warm. and her hand looks small in his. 

"you're already talking like a dad," she says. i'm probably gonna mess up sometimes. that glowing smile wanes just a bit, but not because of him. her fingers reflexively tighten and she bites her lip, nose scrunching because suddenly her eyes are watery and the last thing she wants to do is cry in front of him. 

"i wasn't perfect, bo. my parents helped, but i still made mistakes." i was never ready to be a mom. she withdraws her hand to stubbornly wipe at her eyes.

he's so angry, bo. all the time. but she can't will the words out. she can't own up to her own failure. and she can't make him feel worse for not being there, not when he's here and he's trying and he's making more promises that she desperately hopes he won't break. 

instead, she says, "i'm happy you're back in our lives."

boruta maher

☉

the logistics of it all and everything she hasn't had the courage to say. it's all written down in her journal, tucked away in a hidden compartment in the shed's floorboards because roman's a nosy little thing. she can't recall most of it, as most can't with their journals, but these lines she'd said softly to herself over and over in an attempt to find her courage. 

i'm worried about him. i tried my best. i did everything i could and still it feels like it wasn't enough. he's so angry, bo. all the time. i've felt torn my entire life, like something was missing, and i think he's felt it too. and i've never been strong enough to fix it. 

to be enough.

maybe she's just selfish. if she could have given roman her whole heart, if she could have dropped everything - the flowers, the gardens, the guitar, the ranch - for him, then maybe they'd be okay. maybe he'd be okay. 

there's so much weight behind his gaze that she has to look down. she wants to ask him what he sees. is it strength? is it failure? is it terror? she feels all three at once and she doesn't know how. 

her hand trembles. she sets the sandwich down and knits her fingers together in her lap to hide them, but it doesn't matter anyway. bo's busy wolfing down his food. 

"well, that's just it," she says, a bit uneasily. "i'm opening the floor to you. you've done everything i've asked of you these past few weeks. what do you want?" 

she looks down at her food, appetite gone as her diary's words float through her head. "and logistics-wise - to get started, i want supervised visitation. just at the beginning. and then day trips when i'm comfortable. overnight stays - well, we'll talk about that when we get there - but a goal is a healthy balance between us.

"we'll explain to him that you're back, but we're separated and it'll stay that way so he doesn't get his hopes up. and then we'll...see how he takes it."

she exhales. 

boruta maher

☉

everything may have changed. years may have passed between them and she may have fooled herself into thinking she'd tarnished the memories to the point that any latent feelings, nostalgic or otherwise, would cease to resurface. and yet there's his smile, the one she'd fallen head over heels for.

she's a bit caught off guard by it, same as he is with her, and it takes her a flustered moment to find her words. most of her feelings, she's been able to keep hidden from him, but this one, this one that means so much to her - 

to see how purely overjoyed he is at the idea of meeting his son, their son -

this one reads plain as day on her cheeks, in her brows, in her eyes. 

she reaches out a hand, as though to take his, but then one of the servers comes over juggling a few baskets in their arms. she turns to grab her sandwich and fruit cup instead. surprisingly, it's filled with fall berries, hinting that maybe some of margo's old charm is still left. 

when the food is set, she picks up half of her sandwich and says over it, "yes, i'm sure. it's about time he meets his dad and, well, i think it's about time you met him." 

her eyes soften. she crunches down on tomatoes and mozzarella. fresh basil pesto fights for dominance over slightly stale bread. it's not the best, and it's not margo's, but it's decent. and she finds herself smiling anyway. 

"i appreciate all you've done, bo. really. i know you're trying. and i want to take this next step, but i think we need to talk about what this means, you know? the logistics of it all."

boruta maher

☉