“Of course.” And it did make sense (even though it did not really… make sense). Science was like that, sometimes. Sometimes, you just threw bullshit at a wall to see if it stuck, especially when the clock was ticking down and the collective ass of an entire population was on the line.

“What is your normal field of study, then?” he asked, his line of questioning stemming more from his own curiosity than any sort of judgemental place. After being enveloped by the scientific community and then abruptly severed from it and thrown onto the warpath, he took every opportunity to dip his toes back into the water.

He missed it.

Eva Morales

☉

The Aerodactyl cry was going to be in his nightmares until the end of time.

It was like a scene from a bad Jurassic World film-- all it was missing was a Jimmy Buffett cameo. Fox sprinted down an alley to a side street and cut right, then left. The Aerodactyl was hot on his tail, slicing vertically through the air like a blade.

This would actually be a great lesson on nomenclature he thought unhelpfully as his chest began to burn.

He didn’t want to look over his shoulder because he was afraid of what he’d see. Few sights could drive more fear into a man than that of an angry, rampaging dinosaur. He was, in fact, so focused on the one behind him he forgot about the other one--

“FUCK!”

The scary face was right in front of his face. He startled back, windmilling his arms, skidding on the wet asphalt as his feet went forward and his upper body went backwards. He landed flat on his ass, wind rushing out of him with an audible whoosh. His knees pulled up and he went half-fetal as stars crossed his vision.

As the stars began to clear, the Aerodactyl faces took up most of his vision.

Fox began to laugh.

boruta maher
narrator voice: he should not have felt confident

☉

Phage burbles happily, semi-permeable membrane rolling around him like a cloud. Fox tuts and waves the little vesicle away. “Yes, everybody loves you. Now shoo. You’re hogging the spotlight.” It’s said in jest. What he really wants is for Phage to go spook out some Pokemon-- what with having to leave most of his team behind, he’s sorely lacking in power at the moment.

“I’ll tell you a terrible secret: I’m not fully vegan either.” It’s why there was a serious lack of omnivore bashing on his socials. “But! Awareness in what you’re putting into your body is the key. Cruelty-free and sustainably sou-- blah, sorry, I’ve been in front of the webcam too long.”

He holds out his hand.

“Nice to officially meet you. I’m Fox.”

Phage gives a high-pitched water-droplet sounding noise as he’s startled up an angry Blastoise from somewhere deeper in the caves. As the Duosion comes screaming across between Fox and Wren, Olera bursts from within her Pokeball. She spits sleep powder right in the Blastoise’s face and it falls, skidding to a stop on its belly shell, snoring.

“Never a dull moment,” he says to Wren with a grin.

wren rourke
catch attempt blastoise
rock/water

☉

“Ah, space debris,” Fox chirped, directing Laurel to swirl a few smaller Minior in a magical leaf. The little meteor tornado deposited a handful of the creatures down near Eva, dizzy and slow to rise.

He had to admit, he was a little curious, now, himself. Being new to the region and summarily trapped here meant he was both uninformed of Hoenn’s greater plotlines while simultaneously strangled by them. But Eva’s explanation seemed… believable, at least insofar as she was working for a governing body that was scrambling to save their skins.

When the only recourse you have left is pulling a miracle out of your ass, justifications that fell in that same category seemed all the more credible.

His laugh when she made him promise that he wouldn’t sue said governing body if he was injured was genuine.

“Wouldnae dream of it, miss.” He accepted the Pokeballs with a wink. “So is astronomy your field of study or are you another innocent intellectual drawn into this apocalyptic scramble?”

Eva Morales

☉

Phage bubbled a warning, the Duosion clinging to Fox’s wrist like a gooey gauntlet. He glimmered with light, future sight alerting him to their pursuer’s immediate future moves.

A foreboding shadow passed beneath the moon.

Fox expected something aerial would be nearing, so he cut left, leaping a half wall and knocking over a cascade of garbage cans, on the run again. He didn’t know the city well, which would be to his detriment; but with Phage’s view of the soon-to-pass and his own instincts and reflexes, he felt confident he could get to safety.

boruta maher
narrator voice: he should not have felt confident

☉

Fox graces the stranger with a genuine grin-- a rarity, especially in these dark days. “It’s always nice to meet a fan,” he says, mockingly brushing imaginary dirt off his shoulder.

He had started posting content for his own mental sanity, way back when. Something small and good in his life when everything was big and bad. He’d never imagined for it to take off.

“What’s your poison, the vegan stuff or the cute Pokemon?” he asked, as Phage floated forward to burble excitedly. As his cutest Pokemon (or so Phage would claim) the Duosion won the award for the most amount of time spent in Fox’s videos.

So in Phage’s mind, the stranger was his fan.

wren rourke
skippy
rock/water

☉

With such a limited team and directly proportional options, you might be wondering, how the hell did Fox get all the way out here?

The answer is never to underestimate the power of smugglers, insurgents, and thieves. A ‘borrowed’ boat did wonders for short-term sea travel.

The caves smelled like wet sand and rock salt and the sea. It reminded him of Vermillion City in equal parts: the beautiful part, before Rocket, and the bitter part, after rocket, where hiding under docks to sabotage weapons cargo and launch attacks on admins entering the region became commonplace.

It was a strange sort of nostalgia, the art of remembering war.

He comes around a corner, drawing a hand on the dripping limestone, and finds another human being. His body immediately goes into fight mode, but this isn’t his first goat rodeo, and his expression stays genial if a bit tense.

“Hunting for old pirate treasure, too?” he asks, voice carried by the dampness of the air, as Phage hovers above his right shoulder, burbling his own, single-cellular greeting at the stranger.

wren rourke
hiya!!!
rock/water

☉

Fox’s smile is halfway between a smirk and a wolf’s maw, aiming for passably pleasant. She clearly had him pegged for someone else. He cocks his head, watching the scattering of Minior falling stunned to the earth behind her.

“What’re y’ researchin’?” he asked, accent bouncing from his words, head inclined slightly. His hands came out of his pockets and he fixed his jacket as he stepped forward. “And do y’need any help?”

He is genuinely interested in her field of study. Though his days of scientific exuberance lay broken and bloodied behind him, he was a scientist once, too.

Laurel chirps helpfully and puts her front feet on a nearby Minior to roll the dazed creature closer to the lady researcher.

Eva Morales

☉

Fox fully believed in the omnivorous nature of humans as a biological development. They were meant to eat a wide and varied diet, or their teeth and digestive systems wouldn’t function as they do.

Unsure of where he would stand on catching falling stars to feed to a mythological dragon, though.

He was, for the most part, out for the sights, taking a breather from poking trash and scooping beach refuse; his Bayleef, Laurel, walked by his side as he waded out into the tall grass, peering up occasionally to frown at the scythe of Meteno arcing its way towards their collective bared necks.

The air became charged with the smell of ozone and electrical charges and he heard Eva Morales giving orders to her Jolteon as the two prepared to corral a large sect of falling Minior.

“Tryin’ t’get one in every color?” he asked, wondering what on earth someone could want so many Minior for.

Laurel launched a magical leaf of her own to assist in gathering the scattered space rocks, glimmering foliage breaking into different streams to strike targets.

Eva Morales

☉