route 114's proximity to fallarbor makes for a dusty route. specks of ash occasionally fall from the sky, dotting avery and her salandit. it's a relatively quiet space, there are few trainers out. it doesn't take long for them to find someone else, however.

"...hi." she says. she's slightly off-put by the fact that someone would invite her to their party. avery may be rough and aggressive around the edges, but the wilderness can be dangerous, and sometimes only suvivable by another companion. she swallows her pride and nods, uncharacteristically demure. this person felt different...not to mention that the garbodor could probably beat the fuck out of them if it wanted to.

at least it didn't stink.

"my name's avery. yours?"

MATIAS SILPH

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rockets, though they may have a strong presence in hoenn, still operate above the purview of law. there comes a time where every rocket needs to change their identity. it can be for any reason; ranger raids, revenge, or even the sneaky suspicion that they're being watched. as for avery though...well she doesn't really know.

cora's the one who told her to do this, and when does avery care about what cora's problems are? all she knows is that she needs to cover her ass, and if she needs to switch around her looks for a little bit, so be it. cora's ditzy but she ain't stupid.

she picks through the various assortments of plastic rectangles and tubes, utterly confounded by makeup. half of this shit is unfamiliar to avery, but she knows at least what lipstick is. she gravitates to the blue one. it's a rich, deep blue, like the color of the ocean. avery starts unwinding it, so much that it may break if nudged the wrong way. she does not notice its precariousness.

"so how does this shit work again? you just put this on your lips?

Cora Valentine

taking with Cora Valentine

it is late afternoon, rapidly approaching evening. streaks of orange stain slateport's skies, and avery's presence grows stronger in the lingering light. it's a lovely day to be a rocket. stomach growling, she stalks the streets for her next meal. the night market boasts an abundance of good street food, thick with the scent of frying oil. this is her domain, away from the prim and proper gazes of the upper class.

avery coughs up a couple poke for a cheesy corndog, mouth watering in anticipation. but just before she could take a bite, she sees a blur of brown and black, and her corndog is plucked from her hands. her galarian meowth had taken her 'dog, and was currently bounding down the street.

"get back here you shithead!" avery yells, sprinting after the affectionately named pokemon. she weaves through the throng of passerbys, barely missing some and brushing against other. avery rounds a corner, managing to scoop it up in her hands. she gives it a little shake.

"you know better not to take my corndog you little shit, i can't believe you'd betray me..." wait. "like...that..." avery trails off, looking over its brushed fur, and puzzled, not-very-smug look on its face...

that's not her meowth.

@rene