Elisabeth Fiorelli was so kind that he almost forgot for a second what the fuck was going on and he actually smiled at her. Okay, so maybe things were going to be okay after all. “You can call me Memo, miss,” he allowed, feeling okay for a second. Feeling okay.

You’re still in good health.

Nope, things were not okay.

He’d forgotten for a moment where he was and that not everyone had been witness to the same thing. “The part where you literally took down an entire legendary basically by yourself!” Memo said, trying not to sound like a deranged fangirl and sort of failing, an excited squeak rising in his voice. “It was insane.”

Any sort of positivity and light drained out of him by Alex’s approach-- like every positive emotion he'd been struggling to cultivate was sucked down by the black and jagged deleted portion in Alex's chest-- and he was rooted to the spot by a barrage of feelings.

There was something… unsettling, eerie, like when you see something unexplained, something that doesn’t make sense, when your brain tries to make connections and it can’t, and you get washed with this cold sensation akin to fear that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. There was a tiny bit of revulsion, not necessarily at Alex but at the whole of the situation; certainly, there was sadness, a rapidly growing channel of denial that made Memo want to burst into tears.

There was guilt, of course. Guilt that he’d had to dip so suddenly when, obviously, Alex was the one that needed help. Guilt that he was being selfish. Shame at his panic.

He was like an island, taking shape. The massive environmental forces that originally drove him to the surface of the sea would have less effect on him over time. The madness and chaos that surrounded them now would slowly begin to assemble some version of order.

When we get out of this, I will have both my boyfriend and my best ghost back, or I’ll burn it all to the ground.

He expected the manic bubble of laughter to rise in his throat but instead, he just sighed, a soft huff, a cousin of a single laugh. He reached out a hand and placed it gently on Alex’s arm.

And he smiled.

“None of us do,” he said, voice soft, “understand it, I mean. We’re in some weird digital landscape, and I think part of you got… deleted in that last fight.” He struggled to find the word, eyes dropping to the missing portion in Alex's chest cavity. “That’s why you don’t remember me, or anyone. It’s happened to a lot of people, I think?” he looked at Elisabeth Fiorelli and Gwyar Wledig for confirmation.

“But it’ll be okay,” he said, at length, voice finding some of its usual strength, “we’ll fix it before the end.”

Or burn it all down.

t l ; d r
- memo villain arc?
- tells elisabeth that gwyar is a badass. fangirls a bit.
- starting to get a hold of himself
-zuza the galarian rapidash is still out c:

Alexei Ivanov Gwyar Wledig Elisabeth Fiorelli

☉

His heart leaped. Alex was fine.

He watched the taller man take mental inventory of all his bits and pieces. Everything seemed to be in order, and Memo was about to heave a sigh of relief. Then there was a tiny hiccup and the world froze; Alex pressed a hand over his heart and got a funny look on his face. And Memo could still feel the ghost of that arm wrapped around his midsection, the burn of it over the rounds of his hipbones where there would surely be Alex-shaped bruises.

Oh, why had he made him let go?!

His stomach dropped to the floor and his heart exploded into a million teeny, tiny, painful pieces.

His first response was to laugh. To laugh. It’s a deranged, high-pitched worm of a chuckle that snakes out from between his lips, ricocheting back into him with a sharp intake of breath. Because of course. Of course. Of course of course of course.

It’s a bass drum in his head and it’s only after a few repetitions of his pulse pounding in his ears that he realizes he’s speaking out loud. ”Of course. It’s just like you said. In games, there’s a glitch somewhere. Or a bug.” That’s what Alex had said back when Memo was freaking out. Remember that? Remember? I bet you thought I wasn’t listening to you, Alex, but I’m always listening, and you started that with remember, too. Remember this, you said. Hahahahaha, remember!

He had to look away so he didn’t burst into horribly dramatic tears or devolve into hideous laughter. He had to keep it together. They weren’t out of this yet. And when they did get out of it he would have his boyfriend back and his best ghost, he’d decided, or he’d burn everything down.

That was a scary train of thought. And how he’d manage to do that with a rainbow unicorn and a giant fish remained to be seen.

He put some distance between himself and Alex hoping it would help clear his head. Not too far, in case shit popped off again, but just a little breathing room. He felt like a toddler with no object permanence: if he couldn’t see the problem, did it really exist?

He found Gwyar Wledig talking to someone. He looked a little rough, but not nearly as bad as expected for taking on an entire deranged legendary by himself.

“That was-- absolutely ridiculous, sir,” Memo said, voice still trembling from the shock of being forgotten (forever?) by the only person he genuinely cared about in the world. He summoned Zuza forward again to assist in healing the League officer a bit more, gentle rose waves of heal pulse falling over him.

t l ; d r
- hahahahahahahaahha (hahaha)
- goes to talk to Gwyar Wledig and Elisabeth Fiorelli
-zuza the galarian rapidash uses heal pulse on the nameless knight

Alexei Ivanov Gwyar Wledig Elisabeth Fiorelli

☉

He turned to look at Alex, incredulous. Of course, it had never occurred to him to ask if Alex had a freakin’ umbrella. “I was more worried about--,” he started, then stopped, trying to think about what he wanted to say, “I didn’t want you to--,” nope, that didn’t sound right either. Arceus on a popsicle, feelings were hard.

He didn’t really want to impose, is what he was trying to say. He liked their dates and he was, if he had to be honest, pretty much terrified that Alex would say no if there were any complications. The only way he could ensure everything went smoothly is if he did everything himself.

But he couldn't just say that. He couldn't just say I'm absolutely terrified you'll say no to hanging out with me.

Wow, relationships sure did expose a lot of things about your character, huh? It was a double-edged sword. At all times, he felt so full of love and affection he could barely speak and, at all times, he felt the dread of losing it like a noose around his neck.

He just ended with a shrug and said. “I guess I didn’t think about it.” Then he smiled. “A big sunflower one checks out, though.” For someone who had an aversion to the sun, Alex sure did like sunflowers.

His expression faded into something just north of sullen as he looked up at the big umbrella-- which was staying open, thankfully. “Yeah. Probably. We can use yours next time.”

Alexei Ivanov

☉

Memo looks at him with a doe-eyed innocence. “Yes? He likes it cold.” His gaze shifted to the side, briefly, then went back to Alex. “Am I not supposed to?”

He pushed himself onto his knees and brushed some stray sand off his thighs. “Not all of us have the room to free roam our constituents, Mister Sanctuary Pants,” he said, forcing just enough of a fake-pout into the words to sound petulant and, frankly, adorable.

He leaned back on his palm, still holding Alex's hand, staring over the sea lit by the sunset. “Yeah,” he said, agreeing but not really agreeing, because he hadn’t felt this at peace in quite some time, and he had a sneaking suspicion that, soon, he never would again.

Wasn’t that foreboding?

When Alex mentioned the dome was ruining lots of things, Memo shot him a curious look. “Did you have big summer plans that got put on hold?” he asked. Sometimes he was reminded that he’d only really known Alex for, like, seven months.

Alexei Ivanov
hot summer nights

☉