HARVESTING

be sure to visit the pretty petal flower shop near rustboro!

56X grepa berries (weeks of may 1st to oct 23rd)
pkmn-hoenn.boards.net/thread/8927/nanos-garden

ah yes, the common three.

she groans, softly, raising the glass in her hand as she brings it to her lips and take another sip. the alcohol burns, slightly, down her throat, but the sweeter taste offsets the otherwise unpleasant.. aftertaste?

"that makes the two of us." she sighs, emerald eyes narrowed at the thought. "fortunately, it doesn't take much alcohol~"

MATIAS SILPH

haphazard was his compassion, but in her drunken state, would she know any better?

that's too much faith put into a woman who could barely hold her alcohol. normally she'd be more responsible with her drinking, but her stress had gotten the best of her. she knows she shouldn't, but it'd be even more rude to turn this man's hospitality away, wouldn't it?

daphne takes the glass extended out to her, and she maintains a small smile on her lips as she raises the glass, slightly.

"and what brings you out here, at this time, hm?"

MATIAS SILPH

ah yes, this coy man here literally glanced to see if there was something up his sleeve. it felt insulting, like he wasn't taking her words seriously. even more insulting was the fact that she couldn't say anything, and the fact that she dared not to speak back - that is, not directly.

"i hope you know that i don't like being kept in the dark, silph."

FERNANDO SILPH

she doesn't believe him when he says that he's no plans, but she keeps that to herself. she doesn't have to say how she's noticed - it's hard to miss. it's hard to miss just how content he was with this, just how smug he was with this result. she shakes her head, and maintains her smile, nevertheless.

"like you've something up your sleeve." it's concerning.

FERNANDO SILPH

right, he'd punch this man right in the noggin.

but she couldn't do that, no matter how much she willed it. she could only hope that alex was able to read her thoughts in the afterlife, and was more than willing to do exactly that to such a smug and shameless man. he claims that he has no plans and avoids her question, and she doesn't know how to feel about it.

discontent.

but she can't show it on her face, now could she? even as this sly man's face lights up, like a giddy child who's come up with an amazing idea. he leads with the mention at her brother, a sore spot and wound that only pricks at her heart. arceus, she wanted to deck him.

"i assure you, we're working tirelessly on it." in conjunction with their own research into hoenn, and the energy within it (strange beasts didn't appear for no reason, but she doesn't know what they're after). even if it's been slowed. her expression stays pleasant, for the sake of courtesy and mannerisms, but it can't hide the slight, icy glare of contempt for the man before her.

there's no point in questioning him further about devon, even if she thinks that the man lies between his teeth "you look eager."

FERNANDO SILPH

what would have alex done?

she finds herself asking herself that, quite often. whenever she feels humiliated, at a loss, confused - she was the older sister, and yet she grasped at the straws and the fragments that were now a dead man.what would her father done? what would her little brother have done?

one thing's for certain, neither of them would have let devon be demoted into a mere faction for silph. humiliating.

she knows the smile is fake. she knows well that he acts with the courtesy of a business (the masks worn around is enough to bring a scowl to her face, but she has to suppress it with a smile of her own). she puts on a small smile. not because she was pleased, but because she has to.

"good afternoon, indeed. i apologize for calling you in spite of your busy schedule." honestly, she'd hope that his busy schedule kept him from stepping into her office altogether. she gets to the point, she doesn't want to deal with this man longer than she has to.

"i'll be blunt: what are you plans" schemes "now that you've devon?"

FERNANDO SILPH

a voice chirps up, not too far behind her. not too far beside her. who did this voice belong to? she tries to search the hazy banks of her memory, but can't seem to put a name to the face as she raises her head.

"is it really that obvious?" the woman groans, the expression on her face changes quickly. she raises an arm to rest her elbow against the counter, fingertips pressed against the temples of her head. a moment of silence passes as she's pensive with her actions, but alas, the alcohol is one step ahead of her in clouding her judgement.

"expectations and work, stress. having to deal with people i would much rather avoid." like FERNANDO SILPH.

MATIAS SILPH

it's been a long time coming..

a long time coming, that's for sure. the last time she's seen the head of silph, her family's company was being bought out due to some energy failures, some that she just couldn't figure out for the life of her. she couldn't figure out what was going on, no one in the company could figure out was going on, and it was terrible. it caused an impact, more than she would have liked. one that, if she had been more attentive, could have been avoided altogether. one that could have prevented this mess.

but now really wasn't the time to wallow in the past; she's already done that enough.

today, she was supposed to meet the ceo once again, the man who decided to buy out the remainder of devon that did not involve the energy, which involved the research and manufacturing of gadgets for the trainers, along with other miscellanies. she's anxious, but she has to be alright. at the very least, the responsibility has been lifted from her shoulders (but the burden of being a coward, nothing that had met expectations like her brother had, will always haunt her).

the door opens, and she raises her head from her desk. "silph."

FERNANDO SILPH

it couldn't get any worse.

really now, it couldn't. work was getting to her, and the fact that she ended up having to put devon under silph's name was more than enough to tarnish the business, and it was her fault (she'll never let herself forget it, she'll never live it down. the legacy of her family being continued by a competitor was enough to bring her shame. it gave others a reason to look down on her).

rarely does she turn to alcohol to curve her anxiety, but what choice did she have? nothing else while her head was pounding from the migraine of stress, nothing else while she was trying to handle the weight of her decisions, wallowing in thoughts of 'what ifs' and what could have beens.

a small smile tugs at the woman's lips, her face slightly flushed as she had only downed about three-quarters her glass before putting it down, and idly tracing her finger along the rim. she was tired. she was so, so tired.

MATIAS SILPH