dominic watches the houndour just stand there and decides that the canine is perfectly cute even when he's not doing anything. he thinks for a second and grins.

"yeah, can i see the one that killed silas blackwell?" dominic asks, dropping to a knee to go through the pockets of his bag in search of the poketreats he knew he had somewhere in there. "i'd like to give it a treat. that ok with you?"

dominic sees a xatu circling over his sleeping houndoom and tosses an empty pokeball at it primarily with the intention of stopping it from disturbing the pokemon's nap.

kyle lopez

capturing xatu!

dominic dismisses their concerns with a scoff. he's totally at peak physical fitness regardless of his blood alcohol level, this is nothing.

"don't worry about me kiddo," dominic says to noah, though even he recognises that it doesn't sound particularly reassuring.

kyle's question sort of catches him off-guard and he has to actually slow his running for a moment as he thinks of the answer. he reaches an obstacle and languidly drags himself over it while his RATTLED poochy simply leaps.

"i'm..." he repeats. "i'm zack," dominic says, though he doesn't sound super confident in his response. dominic frowns, and he thinks the pieces may be starting to fit into place.

"you're lopez, right?"

kyle lopez noah faber June Fair

F2Q1e73E + 60

post 6 / 616 rolled

"the colour is really cute on him," dominic murmurs, his voice unusually warm. the corners of his mouth upturn into a fond smile and he reaches out a hand to gentle rub the houndour between the ears.

his own houndoom was napping a short distance away - sprawled out with all its limbs in various directions, and apparently enjoying the warm weather. dominic is silent for a moment and then turns to kyle with a question.

"hey man, is it true that you have like... hella fuckin' dogs?"

kyle lopez

he doesn't know where he got the poochyena, let alone how he ended up here. bailey as in Bailey Cooper? he's heard that name thrown around at least three time today.

dominic smiles a too-wide, too-toothy grin - more of a leer, really - at her friends and swears he can recognise their faces, which is probably not a great sign? he takes another long sip of his drink to displace the thought. were he more sober he'd be able to place the names to the faces.

"hi bailey's friends," he says instead. "i'm..." dominic shakes his head weakly and makes a vague hand gesture to demonstrate that he's too drunk to continue the sentence.

he places his (his?) poochyena down on the floor and watches as the beating it takes makes it RATTLED and prompts it to take off through the race-course at a high speed.

kyle lopez June Fair noah faber

dbJtR8oz + 60

total 165

"mantine surfing?" he echoes weakly. dominic lets the words rest between them.

a beat passes as he tries to fan the remaining embers of his prior rage, expression straddling confusion and anger. "what the fuck is wrong with you?"

dominic takes one slow step back from Bailey Cooper, and then a second one, until they're standing directly opposite each other like two beginner trainers gathering outside viridian forest. he reaches for where his pokeballs should be, in the inside pocket of his jacket, but only feels skin. dominic glances down and sees that he has been helplessly groping at his own abs. he tenses.

"okay bitch, let's go. where's the pig?" dominic manages to form the words after a moment, but there's a hesitation that sounds foreign in his voice. he glances up at his klefki for help but all the pokemon does is jangle its keys at him in a gesture of support.

dominic instinctively straightens to his full height, and finds himself towering over the woman that has decided to make things much easier by verbally assaulting him first.

"yeah, you short bitch! let's fuckin' go, where's your fuckin' spoink? i'm going to rip that tail off its fat fuckin' body myself. where is he, huh? bring him out right now!"

he remembers splitting the watermelon earlier and fantasises about recreating the experience with the woman's - tailless - spoink.

although he feels a weak spattering of sand brush across his legs, dominic remains otherwise blissfully unaware of the sandaconda's presence. he didn't actually make any move toward Bailey Cooper - not when she tried to run, not when she swung around to round at him with a fucking flipflop - so any attempt to get under his feet would be ultimately fruitless.

still, his gaze follows the woman's as something darts into the sand and then escapes, a harmless little mound in a sea of legs.

"i'll bury that bouncing fuck," dominic says after a moment, though his confusion replaces some of his earlier bite.

4/10

don't be jealous. i'm 6'1 and women and men love me.

dominic watches the woman raise her arm, following the gesture with narrowed eyes. he already knows where this is going even before the sand hits him in the face and frankly the fact that he kind of expects it and still gets a mouthful of gritty dirt aggravates him more.

the man recoils as if physically struck, spitting and rubbing at his eyes, but the combination of his rage and blood alcohol level sees dominic recover quickly. the real damage was inflicted to his ego, not to his body.

straightening, dominic watches as the woman attempts to weave into the mass of bodies prompting him to reach for his keys. the keys chirp at him and the keyhole on the lock keychain twists into a smile. dominic smiles back and then hurls the klefki at the retreating woman.

"not so fast!" he yells as pink chains try to wrap around her legs in a gentle, but firm, FAIRY LOCK.

failing that, the klefki will flit around her face attempting to batter at her with its collection of keys. dominic always taught his pokemon to go for the eyes or the throat, and this boy was no exception.

it feels like a hush falls around him, and dominic catches only one person speak in a whisper-that-isn't-quite-a-whisper.

"is that Bailey Cooper?"

0/10

you know what you did wolfe.

"no... not my bahama mama and alolan sunset..." dominic says with weak despair, though his resistance at marcel maeda trying to pry the cocktail out of his hands is minimal. he doesn't notice priam conrad take a sip of his bahama mama - not that it particularly mattered either way. dominic surrenders the drink to the kid with a sigh, but doesn't remove his arms around the shoulders of his two companions.

"bye," dominic drawls as Alethea Ivanova and Ruby Walker both disappear into the crowd. he waves with the hand marcel had managed to successfully free, though there's something derisive about the half-hearted gesture when paired with his sneer. "you're welcome," dominic drops his voice to add, murmuring into the side of marcel's head.

his sense of victory is short-lived because two things happen in quick succession.

Abner Armstrong decides to assault him, probably in some karmic gesture for all the unattended cocktails he has managed to... acquire? he feels a hand near the shell of his ear and pulls away violently and with his whole body. dominic stumbles back, snarling, like a growlithe pup that got sprayed with a spray bottle. at least priam conrad and marcel maeda are free of his embrace, albeit only for now. "the fuck is wrong with you?"

dominic is still glaring at Abner Armstrong when he hears an icy voice draw close, and he turns his head to watch Eva Dumont begin her questioning of marcel maeda and priam conrad. when attention is redirected to him, dominic beams at both men and gives them an exaggerated wink. "it was all me," dominic confirms. "conrad is our designated driver and- oh what's that?"

dominic's gaze shifts behind Eva Dumont as he pretends to notice the limbo game for the first time. he's not a good actor at the best of times, and his surprised tone falls flat. regardless, dominic side-steps the head scientist and begins to make his slow but otherwise remarkably steady escape.

nearer to the game, dominic pauses because he feels like he recognises the woman attempting it, and the association stirs something seething in the pit of his stomach. he knows he'll get CAUGHT STARING but he halts sharply, sand from the momentum of doing so rendered airborne and directly at Bailey Cooper.

"you," he hisses as everyone around them begins to cheer.

beach party.....

he's pretty sure he didn't find the others, but that's okay because it means he got to keep all these drinks for himself.

eventually, dominic does come across a man who has a remarkable, if superficial, resemblance to @zacharias, and he deigns that this is good enough for his drink-addled mind. dominic greets him and reaches a hand for his BLUE ICY DRINK.

"i'm not zach-" the man begins to say, but dominic claps him on the cheek as he stands up to leave. the shock of being robbed and physically assaulted in this manner silences the dark-haired stranger. "yes you are," dominic corrects almost fondly as he leaves.

he stumbles around and under a stick being held up by two breloom without really accounting for where he was going, let alone why. there is some amount of cheering about the whole affair, and he thinks he feels someone pressing tokens into his pockets, which is very cool.

beyond that, the purpose of his presence here had begun to elude him after maybe his third drink and that was some time ago now. it very much felt like he is waiting for something to happen but he doesn't know what it is quite yet.

fortunately, after several more moments of wandering and desperately trying to ignore the speeches, he finally chances upon his colleagues. dominic slides in between marcel maeda and priam conrad, placing his arms around both their shoulders (each hand holding a garnished cocktail drink, for him, not for them).

"boys," he proclaims. "are we staying hydrated?"

dominic does spare an uninterested glance at Ruby Walker and Alethea Ivanova, mouth briefly twisting into a fleeting sneer, but he knows better than to make any acerbic comments lest it prompt marcel into sulking. or - worse yet - moving away when he's fifty percent of the reason dominic is still upright.

swablu

aoikhS6a