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HEART AND SWOLE

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"Come on, brah, all the snow's gonna be gone by the time we get there!"
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Beau jogged easily up the path, puffer jacket and Pangoro-themed beanie staving off the chill as he briskly navigated through the various people enjoying the winter festivities. Poking his head out of Beau's backpack, casting a rheumy gaze over his trainer's shoulder, Chaos the Snubbull stared impassively ahead from - yes, a matching Pangoro beanie.
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Arriving at a suitably vacant patch of the cold white stuff, Beau slowed to a halt, unshouldering his pack and holding it down to the ground, allowing Chaos to hop out and promptly vanish halfway into the blanket of snow on the ground. The little canine burrowed his way upward, fixing a watery glare on Beau accompanied by a wheezy cough.
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"Alright, Chaos, how do you feel about a snowboy, huh?" The Snubbull barked in the affirmative, turning a quick circle and butting a small pile of snow up from the smooth blanket within which he was currently entrenched. Beau grinned, leaning to pack the little mound and roll it into a larger sphere.
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"Alright then, let's make it a big one!"
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Notes: Prompt (1): Play in the snow!

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HEART AND SWOLE

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The tension developing between Beau and the erstwhile feline barista is defused at Xiura's interruption. The man's shoulders relax slightly as he turns to regard her with a raised eyebrow. When she moves to close the front of the shop, he grunts, turning his attention back to Incineroar with a glare.
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His attention is quickly diverted again as the WONDER ROOM takes form around them, causing him to backpedal a step or two. This, unfortunately, leaves him woefully unprepared for the crimson-and-black blur that slams bodily into him, tackling him to the ground with a juddering impact that causes his head to crack painfully against the floor, a grunt of pain escaping him.
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Xiura's commentary goes largely unheard in favor of a sudden and persistent ringing that resounds in his head from either ear. Rolling onto his side, he groans, shaking his head slowly as he attempts to get an elbow up in order to reclaim a vertical position. The ringing in his ears and his swimming vision make that somewhat difficult, and as he blinks rapidly in an attempt to make the room stop rippling, he notices
the Fire-type lumbering up on the turnbuckle and curses, abandoning his attempt to rise in favor of rolling away from the launch point.
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"Oh shi-"

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Tagged: Xiura Balfaltin

Notes: DOWN FOR THE COUNT

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HEART AND SWOLE

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Utter delight lights up Beau's features as Gigi produces item after item from her satchel, idly wondering how on earth she managed to fit everything into such a small container. He fairly bounces with anticipation, though when Gigi looks his way he catches himself with a cough, attempting and mostly succeeding to school his expression into one of neutrality befitting the adult Gym Leader League representative he is.
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"Are you kidding, this is INCRE- uh, I mean, thank you for the meal, Miss Bluebottle." he responds somewhat hastily, waiting until Gigi has taken her own before snatching up a sandwich and laying into it with gusto. Dominic, for his part, rumbles assent as he selects a treat with surprising delicacy from his oversized fingers, popping it into his mouth.
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A Skuntank wanders a little too close to the picnic area for comfort, and Beau nudges Dominic with his elbow. The Rillaboom glances around before sighting the offending Poison-type, rolling his eyes and clambering to his feet before he lopes over, landing a one-two punch with DOUBLE HIT that prompts the Skuntank to scamper hurriedly in the opposite direction.
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Munching on his sandwich, Beau offers a closed fist toward the Rillaboom without looking, who meets it with a bump of his own. "Man, you really know how to pack for a picnic, Gigi!" he enthuses, beaming at the woman.

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Tagged: Georgette Bluebottle

Notes: SKIPPING

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HEART AND SWOLE

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Beau can't help the pang of sympathy that tightens his chest at Klaus' words. He beams broadly at the Togepi, gently shaking the bells, before turning his head to glance at Klaus, his expression softening slightly. "No worries, we got this," he murmurs, offering the shorter man a confident wink.
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He nods toward the Togepi, who is currently doing a fine job of settling out of its tantrum. "They can definitely pick up on how you're feeling, y'know? You gotta relax, brah, you're so tense you look like you might snap in half." He lifts the arm not currently occupied with the bells and casually settles it across Klaus' shoulders, grinning. "Chill, y'feel me?"
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In the corner, his Applin growls delightedly as Froakie comes to investigate, one eyeflap flipping down in greeting before he hops around the makeshift paper pile, scooting a few more errant pieces together before jumping into the middle of the erstwhile bunker and wiggling down to settle in. After a moment, his green tail nudges outward, pushing an outcrop of crumpled flyers toward Froakie in invitation.

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Tagged: klaus anchoret

Notes: BOND BRIDGE

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HEART AND SWOLE

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The pouring rain is doing a number on Beau's vision, and though he closes on the next cultist, the other man ducks his jab and slams an elbow painfully into his abdomen, driving the breath from his lungs with a whump. Dominic bellows behind him, but Beau doesn't acknowledge it, instead using his height to loom over his crouched assailant, wrap his arms around the other man's torso, and swing upwards, lifting the man bodily from the ground and flipping him over in a suplex that sends them both crashing to the beach. Beau cushions the impact against his back, but the cultist is not so lucky, letting out a yelp as the crack of bone sounds above the deluge.
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"Don't worry about me!" he calls to the Rillaboom, clambering to his feet. "Break up those swimmers!" he hollers, jerking his head toward the orderly array of water-types working to perpetuate the Rain Dance just offshore. Dominic nods, loping down the embankment and pounding on his drum, thick green vines bursting upward around him to surge across the water, entangling a Gorebyss and Milotic and flinging them heedlessly against the nearby rocks of the Dewford Gym arena.
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The downed cultist stirs, and Beau heaves an exasperated sigh, leaning down and hauling one huge fist back to deck the man square across the jaw, sending him flat to the sand again - and this time he remains motionless.
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Satisfied, Beau looks down the beach toward the arcs of electricity sparking golden in the darkness, and waves an arm broadly over his head. "Jack!" he hollers, roaring to be heard over the downpour, "We're working on this end, but can you do something about the birds, brah?!" he bellows, motioning broadly to the circling flock of Pelipper that continue to Drizzle above.

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Tagged: jack wainwright

Notes: KYOGRE SOAKER (BWS)

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HEART AND SWOLE

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Dirt. Trees. Grass. Farmland. A fence. More farmland.
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No matter how much Beau looks around trying to reorient himself, or how much he hopes that his friend will demonstrate heretofore unknown powers of teleportation, Caleb is nowhere in sight. Overhead, the dusk draws its net over the sky, the available light fading with each passing minute, and Beau affords himself a shiver.
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It's definitely because it's cold. Just a random cold gust of wind in the dead of summer - and definitely not due to any latent fear of the dark he harbors.
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"Where do you think he is? This has to be the right place, there's only, like, two ways in and out of Oldale." In response, Chaos the Snubbull offers an anemic cough from his place at Beau's feet, glaring about archly. Suddenly, the smaller canine perks up, as though something's caught his attention. Slowly, grumbling every step of the way, Chaos meanders over toward the treeline, snorting and snuffling with his nose pressed almost to the ground as he follows the scent that's disturbed his rest.
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Beau glances at his watch, then withdraws his phone, scrolling through his recent texts from Caleb - maybe he wasn't in the right place, after all? So engrossed is he in his reading that the low, bass-toned growl emanating from a low bush by Chaos' position has to sound twice for him to look over at it - and it's not the Snubbull making it.
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A pair of red eyes glint from the underbrush before a wildly bedraggled, feral Mightyena lunges outward at the smaller dog. Yelping in alarm, Chaos tumbles backward, narrowly evading the slavering fangs of the Dark-type. Shaking himself furiously, the Snubbull retaliates by throwing himself at the Mightyena in an unusually agile move for the elderly pokémon, PLAYING ROUGH with a tumbling series of bites and pummels that send the Mightyena rolling right back into the bushes it emerged from.
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Beau's eyebrows immediately shoot up to meet his hairline and he rushes forward, crouching to inspect Chaos. "Whoa, brah, you alright?"
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The low growl returns from the treeline, the cracking of underbrush sounding as the Mightyena rights itself. As it emerges into the dim light of the path once more, leaves and sticks clinging to its fur, two more pairs of crimson eyes flash ominously into life just behind it.
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"NOPE!" Beau yelps, scooping Chaos into his arms in one fluid movement and heroically dashing right back down the route he'd just arrived on, the Mightyena trio hot on his heels. As he jumps a fence and lands hard on the packed earth of the path, he catches sight of another person and their pokémon silhouetted in the twilight.
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"Yo!" he calls, winded, as Chaos squirms in his arms, fighting to look over his shoulder at the pursuing Mightyenas and barking raucously. "Little help?!"

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Tagged: Caleb Harcourt @marshall

Notes: HOUNDS OF OLDALE

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HEART AND SWOLE

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This isn't supposed to be how it ends.
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Beau surveys his pokémon, a slight furrow of his brow the only outward sign of concern for Torben and Nemo. Inside, however, his thoughts are a chaotic maelstrom - you didn't train them well enough, you didn't support them when they needed it, you're their friend and you're letting them get destroyed. And you call yourself a Gym Leader?
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Torben is the first to go down. Beau shouts, but the Pangoro can't react in time, the MOONBLAST impacting squarely against his chest before bursting in a brilliant display of silvery light that sends the larger pokémon crashing, motionless, to the ground.
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He does not get up.
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Nemo the Swampert turns his head to witness his partner's untimely defeat, though his periphery keeps watch on Howitzer. He opens his mouth, ripples of water coalescing for another attack, but before he can launch it off, the Arcanine is there, ghosting impossibly across the arena to slam bodily into the amphibian and sending him flying backward to impact against one of the rocky outcroppings surrounding the arena. He slumps, his head lolling sideways as he loses consciousness.
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It takes a moment for Beau's comprehension to catch up to what he's witnessing, features blank for one heartbeat, perhaps two, before he snaps into action, raising a hand and loosing a sharp whistle. "That's game!" he hollers over the rippling crash of the surf, digging at his belt to withdraw a pokéball in each hand, recalling his downed duo in twin beams of scarlet light.
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With a rueful grin, he regards the pokéballs for a moment, murmuring a soft "Sorry, guys," that not even Howie's sharp hearing is likely to pick up before he clips the balls back to his belt. Looking up at his adversaries, soaked through and hair plastered against his scalp, he can only offer a broad, fierce grin that pulls the corners of his mouth taut.
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"THAT," he pronounces, "Was a HELL of a match, my dude!"
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Tagged: Adrian Malcolm

Notes: GRIT BADGE
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HEART AND SWOLE

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Whether startled by the other man's proximity or charmed by the polite request, the Dewpider offers a high-pitched squeak before jumping back in alarm, toppling down the back of the wall to land in the water below with a splash. That's one way to make it, Beau reasons, as he watches Gwyar and Raki clamber to the top of the wall with little trouble.
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"Great moves, my dude! Just one more stretch and you're home free!" he calls from his position on a platform in the center of the arena, pointing with a broad grin at the pedestal next to him holding a pristine Grit Badge for the taking. Beau's platform is higher than Gwyar's, however, and the obstacle bridging the gap between the two is a series of overhead bars that angle upward, clearly intending for the prospective challenger to swing from one to the next without losing his grip and dropping into the water below.

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Tagged: Gwyar Wledig

Notes: GRIT BADGE

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HEART AND SWOLE

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Beau winces as he watches Lars begin his careful crossing of the platforms, not noticing the tension he's carrying in his shoulders until he rolls them experimentally, relaxing them and loosing a low sigh. The other man's previous challenges have taken their toll on him, and if he's not careful, he'll -
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Too late.
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Beau notices the platform start to sway as Lars advances onto it, tipping too quickly and too crazily over the water to allow even a chance of recovery after the other man's previous exertions. This...won't be good.

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Tagged: Laurence Anderson

Notes: GRIT BADGE