she hasn't really been much of anywhere in years, nevermind rustboro. she grew up in a family of hermits, more than content to build their little world around them. she's never wanted more, really, but she'll admit to feeling envious when hearing about some of her neighbor's family vacations. 

doubt creeps in when he smiles like that. doubt and a little something else, but she'd rather focus on the former. because she meant what she said all those weeks ago. she'll allow herself little fantasies, but when she thinks about it, really thinks about it, it doesn't feel right. 

"alright. want me to call a taxi then?" she shucks out of her work boots and slips on some sneakers. her face is still a bit flushed from the work and both she and bo have smears of dirt about them and on their clothes. but she doesn't think it'd be fair to refresh herself while he waited on her. 

besides, she wants to be back before roman gets home. 

boruta maher

☉

her father had a short fuse. it's something she'd managed her entire childhood and adult livelihood. and perhaps that's why she's the opposite. she'd envied her mother's patience, her thick skin, and the way she never let any of his thorny words get to her (because they were never mean, really, and he'd apologize later and smack himself on the head). 

but roman is a whole bottle of gasoline, just waiting for the next spark to set him off. 

her heart aches and she doesn't know why this is the only way he knows how to cope. but to cope with what? why are you so confused? where did i go wrong? 

she grabs him, wraps her arms tightly around him, eyes squeezing shut. "i give a shit that you're hurting," she says. she can probably count on one hand the amount of times she's sworn in front of him, but she's at a loss right now. 

and she's so damn terrified he's going to try to run away again. 

she looks past him, at bo, tears in her eyes, pleading for something. 

boruta maher  & Roman Maher

☉

not many people come to these things, but there are regulars for sure. but she's been out of the loop the past couple of months, otherwise she'd have tried to grab a partner. it wasn't until boruta maher came crashing back into her life that she realized how lonely she really was. 

working in her greenhouse is a passion, but it's a lot more riveting to speak to another human being than the same plant for the hundredth time. 

so she says, "i used to. haven't had much time the past couple of years, but i miss it. what about you?"

she snorts. "ever find a body out here?"

Greyson Connors

☉

not many people come to these sorts of things. it's not uncommon, really, what with all the help the rest of the region needs on the daily now. people are exhausted. not just physically either. but this sort of work is meditative for her. this sort of work is rejuvenating. 

and it's nice to get away when she can. it's nice that she can trust someone to look after the house while she's gone. 

elisabet works alongside her, picking up trash and other debris while willow hums to herself. she straightens, stretches her back, and smiles when one of the only other volunteers decides to strike up conversation. 

"yeah," she says. "looks like some kids made a fort of some kind past this bramble. cool digs, but, ah," she says, sweeping some of the brush aside to expose the beer and soda cans that litter the area.

Greyson Connors

☉

"oh?" she's genuinely intrigued. she bites her lip though and gives a bit of a nervous laugh. it's not something she tends to talk about, but, "i've, uh, never been to lilycove." she hasn't seen most of the region, for that matter. her family never had much money to begin with and she's a notorious home body so even day trips around the region have never appealed to her. 

it's still embarrassing. 

she looks down at the basket and then thinks oh, why not? and hands it to him gratefully. 

"thanks. i'm making some cobblers tonight. just putting that out there so you don't think i'm crazy for picking several pounds of berries."

LANCE VOLLANS

☉

it's mostly certainly why the clefairy enjoys coming here. no doubt the fairy-type is put at ease surrounded by a garden tilled with love and care. she's taken care of enough dual grass-fairy clients to know that they have a sort of mystic connection with the greenery and earth around them. she'd assume their mono-typed cousins are, to some extent, the same. 

she crouches down to the clefairy's level when it offers her an apricorn. the fae are whimsical things and so she grabs a juicy berry from her own basket to offer as a trade. 

"you should. it's relaxing for a lot of pokemon," she says as the fairy warbles at the trade. 

she places the apricorn in her basket and shifts it to her other arm. she'd been so absorbed in picking, she hadn't realized how heavy it had gotten.

LANCE VOLLANS

☉

she's a grazer, through and through. the only meal she really makes time to sit down for is dinner, but that's mostly just for quality time with roman and her mother. and adelaide, because the woman's as much a member of the atkins family as any other at this point. 

so the idea of sitting down for a meal at midday is a little out of the norm to her. she's a planner, a scheduler, and going 'off script' is daunting, easily read by the way she fidgets with some of the items on her workbench. finally, after reorganizing some seed packets, she stuffs her hands in her pockets and leans back against the structure. 

"hey, i quite like my sleepy little town," she says defensively. "the air doesn't smell like coal here." her nose wrinkles. "definitely never miss that."

she shrugs her shoulders. is cafe luna still open? she wants to ask, but she holds her tongue. why chase the past when she's already made a point to tell him it won't resurface?

"there are a couple of farm-to-table places around here. but if you'd like to go to rustboro, i don't mind. i haven't been back in years."

boruta maher

☉

she pulls off her gloves and sets them on her workbench. some of the soil bags could still get put away. she could organize the tool rack again. the fertilizer ought to be catalogued for the next couple of months. but these are things for next week, things that are written in a schedule she's never been able to keep up with. 

to have this empty space is...odd. so she resists the urge to fill it with more work. and it's not because of the company she'll keep otherwise (she tells herself). 

she makes a face at the comment and then rolls her eyes. "gotta admit - hasn't been half bad having you here to help." she puts her hands on her hips and arches her back, stretching out her back. joints pop and she rolls her neck, thinks maybe i'll finally get to use some of the lavender i dried for those bath salts...

she looks away from the flower beds she'd been staring at while thinking and back to bo. she straightens, a bit embarrassed when she realizes what she'd absentmindedly been doing. 

"lunch sounds..." her stomach rumbles. "good." she checks her phone. plenty of time before roman gets home. 

boruta maher

☉

most people don't understand the imposition. much of the food willow puts on the table is grown with her own hands. in the winter, a lot of it has been pickled or dried, but grains make up the most of their meals. meat is a luxury for their family; most of the time, she's able to barter with the local butcher's shop when she wants to treat them, but roman's had to get used to beans as his protein. 

not an easy sell, surely. 

with the acquisition of her mamoswine at the end of late summer, the corn planting had been far easier, and the stalks are sturdy. a dinner wouldn't be too far-fetched. 

there she goes again, with all her planning and her meticulous forethought. it's one dinner. and besides, business has been better lately. she wouldn't say they're wealthy by any means, but at least she's not rolling quarters anymore. 

"that'd be nice. we never really got that. i was an only child and finding time to go back to rustboro to see the relatives was always such a hassle." that and her grandparents were never quite the same towards her after the pregnancy. and she's always had little patience for intolerance.

elisabet tends to the scatterbug as they walk. eventually, when it's snoozing in her arms, willow withdraws a pokeball and captures it, where it'll be safe until the woman can examine just how malnourished it is. and why. 
 
overhead, pokemon chitter. willow breathes in the air and sighs contentedly. "so tell me about yourself, cian. since it's been so long."

CIAN MAHER
catching rowlet (eventually)

☉

"mm, i like to think so," she says. good people. it's hard to give bo some of the credit. she'd done everything she could for that boy - just shy of seventeen and all her dreams for her future gone down the toilet. her sketches could be more than a hobbyist's drawings - they could be doing good. she could be working on biological preservation. 

no. she doesn't think of what-ifs. not anymore. she's happy where she is. happy with the house and the greenery and the life she's built. and it's too exhausting being bitter with bo over everything else. 

"you know," she says, "you can come around too. up to fallarbor."

CIAN MAHER
catching rowlet (eventually)

☉