Set in the original region of Arciel, Legends Rising is a route-inspired, but not strictly route-based, Pokemon roleplay. Pick a faction, pick a class, and strike out into the wild to take on the League, master Contest coordination, research the mysteries of Pokemon and Arciel, and much, much more. Will you be a classic trainer? A criminal? A farmer? Choose your destiny on Legends Rising.
Samson's submissive display works, in some sense; Fembra has still a bit of hot chocolate in her cup, and seeing Samson sprawl out on the floor, his big paws nearly reaching her little lizard feet, compels her to nudge it forward just a bit in offering. Never mind the fact that Samson is technically a canine, and had it been proved that chocolate was fatal to dog pokemon? At least her intentions are good.
Faolan's eyes, meanwhile, follow Lionel's fingers as he scratches at a smear of who-knew-what on the table like he were suddenly interested in cleaning it off. And then he follows that up with a compliment, and she's put in mind of younger children being bashful and shy around the people they like. It can't have been that long since Lionel's been in this sort if situation, right? She racks her brain, trying to remember what was said during their speed dating. There hadn't been anything said about a girlfriend as far as she could remember, and the darker part of her mind pipes up with maybe there still is a girlfriend and she feels a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.
She remembers her father's long trips out of the region. She remembers her mother sitting in a corner of the room, staring out the window, waiting.
Her gaze drops to the meager amount of cocoa in her cup and she finds her smile faltering, just a little. Well. Maybe. Maybe not. She could enjoy this for what it was, just ... spending time together, in one another's company. It didn't have to go much further than that, she decides, her gaze lifting to meet Lionel's earnest ones, her own cautious. It didn't have to go any further than now, even if she wouldn't particularly mind, even if she really wanted it to...
"I'd like that," She eventually says, and gives him a soft smile. "... Though it's probably still a little too early to invite me back to your apartment, don't you think?" Her fingers find the sides of her cup and begin spinning it, the action nonchalant even as she continues. "I thought you said that was a third date kind of thing."
As silence drags on between them, Lionel worries more and more that, perhaps, he's said something ill suited - and is prepared to back track, should he need to - but in the end, Faolan returns to him with a tease, it seems. At first it has him straightening his shoulders out anxiously, realizing he may have insinuated that there were more than puzzles to be done, but her tone registers with him shortly thereafter and he laughs out faintly, shaking his head.
"Ah-- Well, yes, I did say that." His smile remains, a tad uneasy as it was, and he continues to say, "Puzzles are an awfully home base kind of thing to do, you're right. What was I thinking, being so forward?" Knocking his hand lightly against his head, he seems in good humor, despite everything, and relaxes enough to finish with, "Whenever you feel the itch for a puzzle or two, I'd be glad to have you over. We'll even start small, if you'd like."
Samson, meanwhile, seems awfully intrigued by the contents of that cup that Fembra had nudged towards him, army-crawling closer with a few sniffs that told him exactly what its contents was. An evil, terribly sweet thing that he knew he couldn't have, because he was trained to know as much by his Breeder. With a heavy heart, he shakes his big ol' dog head, but offers the edge of the cup a curious lick - enough for a taste of sugar, but no more, before pushing it back slowly with the end of his snout.
Lionel, catching sight of this small exchange, pulls the plastic dome of a cap off of his sweet coffee and scoops a bit of the whipped cream off of it, to give the dog a welcome second helping. Sugar wasn't so good for him either, but one might assume Lionel didn't give his Pokemon too many unhealthy snacks, seeing as he probably didn't give himself many as it was.
Fembra doesn't seem terribly offended at Samson's lack of enthusiasm for the remainder of her cocoa, and actually seems rather happy when he licks at the rim of the cup instead before returning it to her. At least he'd tried some, right? With nothing else keeping her from taking the rest of the hot cocoa for herself, she blows a little puff of fire into it - just a small one, enough to warm it up a little though it mostly sizzles and steams when it comes into contact with the liquid - and drinks the rest.
Faolan watches this little exchange curiously, and then Lionel's removing the cover for his drink and she ends up staring at the lighter colored liquid and mess of whipped cream on top of it. She had been expecting a darker brew, maybe; some kind of all black coffee, or at least with a little sugar and just the tiniest drops of cream. But looking at it from where she was sitting she could tell that it was probably something incredibly sweet - and was that caramel?
It's a few moments before she can respond to his question (she wants to see him drink it) but when she does the soft smile on her face has returned and she runs her finger along the edge of the lid of her cocoa. "You really like that phrase, don't you?" The blonde gives an exaggerated huff, but doesn't appear too annoyed by it. On the contrary, him teasing her about it - if it can even be called that - is a little endearing, in a way. "I don't think forward so much as... maybe being a little naive. Just a little." Or maybe he was just shy. She somehow feels like these things go hand in hand with being an awkward giant. "You're lucky I'm not the sort of person to take advantage of that, or you'd be in a lot of trouble, officer or no."
From below, Reddy has gotten a whiff of something sweet and pops up, sticking his little bird head between Lionel's knees and gazing up at from under the table. He waits, his eyes bright and shiny with an unspoken plea.
On the subject of puzzles, though, she notes that he's mentioned most of the ones she knows except for one, and she props her chin on her hand as she mulls it over. "What about picross?" It was more of a numbers game than anything, but he did mention liking sudoku, so...
Samson perks up when Fembra uses her fire to warm (or, try to warm,) the coffee, though he lowers his head soon enough, making himself comfortable while the two Trainers have their talk. This doesn't last for long, though, as Puff decides she's rather bored with sitting on Lionel's shoulder, and begins preparations to jump off of him. Wiggling her butt carefully, Lionel seems to notice only at the worst moment, his hands raising to catch her just in time for her tail to slip through his fingers, and with a thud does she land onto poor, poor Samson.
Growling briefly, the Growlithe seems to register that Puff was, for all intents and purposes, a baby. And he couldn't really get mad at her, not yet. So, he does as any well trained Pokemon would, and just lets her gnaw on one of his ears.
"No, it's-- it's a baseball... euphemism... thing," Lionel starts, sheepishly, making vague, and rather un-related gestures with his hands as he tried to explain, "Home base like, different... you know, first and second and--" Once more, his ears start to turn red, and the older man decides to shut himself up by drinking from his sweet abomination of a coffee. It's a lot longer of a sip than anyone should rightfully take of something so sugar, so cold, but he seems intent on removing himself from the embarrassing act of talking.
"Take advantage?" He then asks, brows knitting in amusement, and confusion. "You know, maybe. But I don't get that kind of feeling from you, though feel free to correct me if you're secretly a thief of more than just hearts." Oh, another cheesy remark. Awful man. Then, the topic shifts over to more puzzles, and Lionel exhales a slow hum. "I don't think I've ever tried that one, but I've seen the uh... ads, on my phone," he simulates swiping his phone with his thumb, "Is it any good?"
At not being noticed, Reddy just pushes his face a little further up, his eyes getting brighter, a little more sad. Notice me, they scream with all the suffering of a thousand unfed pokeorphans. Notice me. Share coffee. Give coffee. When it became obvious that this tactic was not working and that Lionel was, in fact, distracted by other things - namely the Stufful more or less body slamming onto poor Samson down below - Reddy's beak seemed to wilt a little and he began to make small, chirping noises in the hopes of getting Lionel's attention.
Faolan blinks as the man begins to explain and for the first few seconds, she's even more confused. She knew little about baseball, so she didn't understand the part about euphemisms -- oh. First base. Second base. She knew those from just passing conversations. So by getting all the way around to home base --
Oh. Oh. Lionel, you dirty old man.
Despite all the flirting that's been going on between them since they first met, the fact of the matter is she's not... "experienced" in those sorts of things, and while hearing them from people she didn't particularly care for was no skin off her back, hearing them from someone that she was genuinely enjoying being around and that for all extents and purposes was someone she wouldn't really... mind those sorts of jokes from -- that was a different story entirely.
She tries to shrug it off, she really does, telling herself that Lionel's just another man and that yeah, maybe he does have a girlfriend or something back home - maybe not here home, but home home - but then on the other side of that coin maybe he doesn't, because very few girls would be all right with their significant others living an entire region away, right? But even so, it doesn't keep the flare up of color on her cheeks, bright against pale skin, her gaze darting almost shyly away in the face of the unexpected effect on her when Lionel dishes it right back. Even though he technically didn't, and that and the sobering cold of her cocoa is the only thing that pulls her back to the conversation.
"You're ridiculous," She eventually says, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear in a nervous fidget. "It's... a little more clever than sudoku. If you're good at counting and putting pieces together, looking at things from an outside perspective, I think you'll find it easy enough. I think there's a pokemon-themed one you could start out with, if that's more your style?"
When he comes to notice Reddy, who very clearly wanted some of his coffee, Lionel glances from Faolan to the bird that'd situated itself between his legs, chirping pathetically. Feeling like he knows better than to give the already excited creature any more reason to go absolutely nuts. So, he caps his coffee, and pushes it away for the time being (it was iced, anyway,) so he can reach down to hoist the bird up into his lap. Fuck, it was huge, wasn't it?
Attempting to settle it in his lap, he just looks over to Faolan curiously. His eyes fall to the way she twirled her hair around her finger, a habit he'd seen in many women over the years, and he can't help but to find himself briefly enamored by the sight. Watching her hand move for a moment, he eventually draws himself away from it to meet her eyes. "Am I?" He asks, apparently feeling slightly more confident, if the way she reacted to that was any indication.
Of course, he doesn't say anything else on that matter, instead moving on to the topic of picross. "You just explained like half my job when I was an officer," he states amusedly, as he takes that little sticky-pad out of his pocket once more to jot down the name of the game, so he wouldn't forget it, "so I think I will enjoy it. Numbers can get annoying, but I don't want to be that guy someday who doesn't know how to tell his kids how to do their math problems."
If he ever had kids, he supposed, but that's hardly a topic for the time being. Least of all with someone he'd just come to know, like Faolan, even if he did have a surprising amount of ease in telling her things.
Reddy, for the most part, doesn't seem to appreciate being picked up. It wanted coffee, dammit, not upsies! Unsurprisingly, his reaction to this is to go limp in Lionel's hands, head rolling around to stare at the man balefully with dead fish eyes. Or dead Torchic eyes, but they're really the same thing. Try and placate him now, Lionel.
The moment Reddy's pulled into view Faolan gives him an odd look that the bird doesn't notice, busy as he is simultaneously sulking and staring at the man above him. Faolan arches a brow and looks up at Lionel, some of her embarrassment from earlier gone but the flush on her face fading slower than she'd like it to. His question prompts a wry half-smile on her lips, faint but still there. "You are."
And then that sticky pad comes out again, and she smothers a laugh with her hand. Is this just a habit of being a former cop or something? Or just a quirk of his? "Maybe I should look into being a police officer," She says, thumbing through her phone and swiping through the small amount of phone apps she's got there. She picks one, and the screen opens to an 8-bit menu. After tapping out a few options, she's selected a smaller, easier puzzle for him and turned her phone around to slide it across the table for him. There's a score at the top; a "best time" that's less than thirty seconds.
"Try that one, see if you'll like it. The other ones are much harder," She continues, with a mischievous look in her eyes. Did Lionel just unlock a Faolan secret? "But once you've done enough, you'll get the hang of it."
As Reddy stares at him with those oddly lifeless eyes, Lionel makes a bit of a face, but ultimately decides that perhaps the smartest option with a Pokemon like this is to keep it from moving about too much, keep it from getting up to mischief. So, as he puts that sticky-pad away, the man's arm loops around the Torchic's limp frame and keeps it close, because he knew he could keep him from getting free, wriggly little man he was.
Then, across the table comes that phone, and with a deft hand he catches it to lift the phone up, briefly examining the puzzle. While he certainly wasn't going to beat that time, he could at least beat the puzzle itself. So, he leans forward slightly and takes in the look of it - by his guess he had to find the number of blocks filled in, in just the right order. So, he gets to work.
"You play this, then?" He asks, not looking up as he tests out a few of the lines, slowly but surely making a little progress - though occasionally he has to backtrack. It's here he gets concentrated, his brow knit and his postured hunched terribly forward as he focuses - it gets Samson to sit up again, peering up at his Trainer curiously.
Humming thoughtfully, eventually the man turns the puzzle around with a little 'complete!' notification flashing across the screen. It wasn't anywhere near Faolan's score, of course, but he looks proud of himself all the same.
"I might look into downloading one of these. Maybe we can compare scores, once I get good at it." He smiles, a dumb and wide one.
She thinks for a moment about recalling Reddy to his pokeball, but part of her knows he's not a huge fan of it, and besides that... he actually looks dwarfed compared to Lionel's gigantic frame. Whether or not Torchic isn't a fan of that either, or if he's simply sulking because he wasn't given what he wanted - something she'd have to work on in the future, it seemed; unless this kind of thing went away with age and evolving - she didn't know, but it was actually rather cute.
It's so cute, in fact, that when she's given the phone back she switches over to her camera and takes a quick, discreet photo. She manages to cover up the bottom speaker so the shutter sound is muffled well enough, and after examining the stolen picture for some time she closes out of it and locks her phone. Beside her, Fembra is nudging the now-empty hot chocolate onto the table slowly, like she's trying not to get noticed but failing miserably in that regard, and once she's achieved her task she goes over to where Samson's sitting up and just kind of... hovers by him, a look on her face like she wants to talk about something but failing to turn up words.
"I do. It might take you a little while," She says, and her words are equal parts a challenge and a tease. "So you'd better get to practicing." Most of her embarrassment has faded now, replaced with the comfort of companionship and fulfilling conversation Lionel's presence seemed to provide effortlessly.
"Though I suppose since you have my number now, you could always ask me for hints in how to improve."
As the bird doesn't fight Lionel's hold, there he stays, with the man's hand occasionally patting him on the stomach and peering at him curiously, even as all he's given in return is a blank, kind of pissy stare. It's amusing, and reminds him, in a way, of how one of his younger cousins would act in the days of babysitting. Hyperactive kids never did like being held, and he's amused to find it true even with Pokemon.
"I think I'll prove a formidable opponent, in due time." He says, offering her a faint sort of smirk, like he isn't completely confident enough to commit. It might be cute, to the right eyes. "Plenty of time to practice, anyway, so long as I've got time to charge my phone." Speaking of, he pulls his out for a moment, if only to check the time, before it's gone away again. As she reminds him that he's got her number, that smirk becomes more of a smile, and he nods. "Yeah, 'course. I'll make sure to drop a message if I think I need it."
A pause, and he taps idly upon the table with his fingertips, and he opens his mouth - and immediately goes a little slack jawed, at a loss, or at the least, too nervous to actually pose the question at first. His attention falls, then, to Femba and Samson, as they seemed to have taken an interest in one another, and he can't help himself to be enthused by this fact.
Apparently, it gives him enough of a kick to say, albeit slowly, and carefully, "I, uh... I would like to see you again after this. I know I could just ask in a text, but that doesn't feel so... uh... personal. So," he trails off, staring out the windows a moment, before back, "Would you want to..." Gesturing between the two of them idly, he seems at a loss for a moment. "See each other again? I mean, I'd like to, if... uh... you do. U-Unless you've-- you've got a boyfriend, or something, then--" He makes a face, rubbing at his cheek. He was stupid.
Reddy looks so angry, so incredibly put out she can't help the smile that pulls at her lips, tugging her expression into something that's starting to feel less and less foreign. Lionel's smirk does little to curb it, and when he checks his phone she takes a moment to look at her own, silently calculating in her head how long it would take her to get back to the hostel she's staying at. She couldn't remember seeing any hours of operation on the cafe doors when she'd walked in, and as much as she'd like to hope they were a twenty-four hour establishment, she didn't hold out much hope. Already she could see that a lot of the patrons have left and there's only about three other tables occupied not including the one that she and Lionel are at. She can see the employees in the back cleaning and wiping down the coffee gadgets, which probably meant that they were in the last hour of closing. How time flies when you're having fun.
Lionel's silence after his reassurance to send her a message draws her attention again, and she looks over at him and the apparent difficulty he's having in trying to carry on a conversation. Did he also have to leave soon, too? He did say he was staying in the city for a bit, so it was more than likely that he had a hotel since she couldn't remember seeing him in the hostel she had spent the past few days at. She's fairly certain she would remember. If not back then, especially now.
And then he speaks, and the first sentence out of his mouth has her shoulders tensing a little. It's a bit different when they're kind of just dancing around each other. Saying it out in the open has her nerves jittering for reasons she can't place, and it feels like her heart is a fluttering bird in her chest. It's an excitable, terrifying feeling, and she's not sure if she likes it or hates it. Since it's coming from Lionel that must mean she likes it, right?
"I've never ..." She begins, and stops herself. He didn't need to know that. She again tucks a lock of hair behind her ear and tries to think of what to say in this situation. He's actually come out and asked to see her again, and there's a part of her that feels like he doesn't mean as just friends swapping hints over sudoku, or picross or even crosswords. "No," She eventually says, finding a certain comfort in answering his question. "I don't have a boyfriend." The question is burning on her tongue, and she turns her cup of cocoa around in her hands, debating, wondering -- and then just comes right out and asks. "Do you have ... something?" Something, she asks, the meaning behind the word apparent but still pretty open. Girlfriend, wife, fiance... She has a feeling if he lies, she'll know. He seems like a terrible liar.
Last Edit: Feb 20, 2020 12:27:50 GMT by Faolan Byrne
As he, too, realizes that their time together was growing thin, Lionel can't help but feel a bit sorrowful - like there weren't enough hours in the day to satiate the desire to spend time with her. Not even to kiss her, nice as that thought was, but... to talk, like they had been, more. It'd been a while since he'd last been able to feel like that, and he couldn't help but hope for more. So, of course, he asks.
And that's when the awkward silence seems to drag on, because Faolan looks almost flighty - he can see the tension in her shoulders, not unlike the people he'd interrogated once (though this was far from that kind of moment, but somehow, he doubted that the fear was any less real,) and it almost makes him deflect again. Maybe she wasn't really interested, maybe she did have a boyfriend, maybe, maybe, maybe... and yet, he waits, his ears burning red under the weight of the moment, until she gives him an answer.
Luckily, it's an answer that pushes his face back into a grin, a bright, happy sort of thing - that fades only just as she asks of what he had in return. Not for any bad purpose, but simply... "Aha, no, I-- I mean, I wouldn't... I wouldn't have asked if I did. I'm not-- I'm not like that." Scratching at his stubble, he murmurs, "No, no. I haven't had a something solid in a couple years now. Nothing's ever quite stuck. People tend to look for someone a little less broken."
He pats his leg and sighs out, leaning over slightly to, at last, let Reddy down upon the floor - he gently pushes him in Faolan's direction.
"And out here? Nothing. Well, uh..." He gestures rather sheepishly towards her. "Not nothing, now, I guess." Lionel clears his throat immediately, looking for the world like, suddenly, the table was interesting again. He's turned red again, though, all the way down to his neck.
The grin that breaks out over his face when she confirms that no, she doesn't a boyfriend - never had one in her entire life, really - is like a breath of fresh air. He's really happy about that, isn't he? She can almost forget that he's older than her by a significant margin with how that big, beaming smile of his makes him look boyish; like he's not some retired cop with a bad leg and a rugged face, but that maybe he's someone closer to her own age instead. Either way, it's not a bother to her in the slightest, and she knows it's not going to be no matter what ended up happening between them.
His reassurance that he's not that sort of person reaffirms the lingering suspicion she'd had that yeah, maybe he is a good guy - even if the darker part of her thinks or maybe he's just a good liar. She's watching him carefully as he responds, trying to pick out anything that might give away that maybe he's lying to her instead but... everything is just so awkward, and he looks like he's ready for the earth to swallow him whole and she can't find it in her to think otherwise. He's so incredibly earnest and so committed to the idea of seeing her again, probably more than any boy she's ever known.
It's a little scary, but not entirely unwelcome.
As he pushes Reddy towards her, the bird reaches and manages to grasp the cup she'd been nursing and immediately squeezes under the table with it. The noises of beak scraping against cardboard can be heard as he tries to drain the container of every last drop of cocoa that he can get to, and it's the only thing that hangs in the air between them as she considers his words. Not even Fembra has found the courage to start up another conversation, and she lingers shyly beside Samson, her gaze occasionally shifting between him, Faolan and Samson's master.
How could anyone think Lionel was broken? Because of his leg? And that's why he hadn't had something solid? If it came down to it he'd probably still be able to throw her out a window or something if he really wanted to, or at the very least be able to part crowds with the sheer bulk of his size alone. If he was broken, he wouldn't have smiled at her so widely, or laughed so openly, or even blushed as much as he was doing now. It's a little irritating, the idea that a person's "unbrokenness" was based on the physical condition of his body, but she does her best not to let it show on her face and instead looks up to Lionel, a thoughtful look in her eyes. All around them the lights are starting to dim as the workers switch to only the essential lighting, Lionel and Faolan one of two groups still lingering in the cafe.
"... you're staying in the city, right? How far away is it?" It's not an answer to his question or even really a continuation of the subject at hand - although it could be taken a number of different ways, given how quickly she looked away and turned her attention to gathering up her things - but she doesn't elaborate further. "I'm staying in the pokecenter hostel myself, and it looks like they're closing down for the night here."
What an awkward moment, between two awkward people. Reddy catches the cup and steals it from Faolan's hand, having a grand time chewing into it and getting whatever he can from its contents, while the silence stretches onward yet longer still. Lionel wished he could read minds; or maybe just her mind, to know what she was thinking. What seemed to captivate her so, as he could nearly see the gears turning in her mind for those few moments. Again, he doesn't answer after it, instead reaching into his pocket for a Pokeball to store Puff in, Samson pleased to be relieved of babysitting duty, occupying himself the same way she was.
The store was almost closed after all, and they'd needs be on their ways. Her words, though, make him wonder if she didn't think they could both go the same way.
Which, really, he wouldn't mind - he didn't have much to do here, and was only passing the time between the dates and getting a move on elsewhere, exploring and training. Even if it were only walking each other to the places they were staying, it would be enough for the man, who starts to put his things away. Phone, Pokeballs, sticky-notes, all tucked away into the depths of his jacket.
"Not very, just one of the hotels a few blocks up the main road. I'd rather have left the PokeCenters to the younger Trainers; I could afford a couple nights elsewhere." As she mentions staying at a hostel, he nods, understanding. "Would..." He starts, as he rises up from his seat, Samson slowly pulling up to his feet in tandem, "Would you like for me to walk you there? I mean, I wouldn't mind."
"You're probably right about leaving it to the younger trainers," She comments, looking a little thoughtful. "Especially those that can't really afford to stay somewhere fancy in a hotel at the beginning of their journey. It's not too crowded, since people are migrating between cities at the moment, but it's decently full." Since she doesn't have much to carry, she's done in a relatively quick amount of time and getting to her feet, making sure to brush the remnants of egg shells into her hand so she can dump them in the nearest trash can with the rest of her garbage. Reddy pokes his head out when he notices movement and allows her to take the now empty and mostly chewed-on cup from his beak to discard with everything else.
Lionel's offer to walk her there is only met with a coy smile, like she'd been planning on him asking or had intended to walk him to his hotel instead. "Sure, I'll let you tag along. I'm sure with a former police officer by my side, no one would dare approach - especially with someone as scary looking as you." She nudges both Reddy and Fembra along and makes her way to the door first, and as she passes Lionel she hums, "Even if you didn't bring any handcuffs today."
As they put their trash where it goes, Lionel is a busy bee. Not only does he take his own garbage, but wrappers left behind by others, scrunched up into his hands as he seems set on making the employee's lives a little bit easier, and eventually he tosses it all away, having successfully taken care of the small corner of the coffee shop that they'd claimed for their own. "Yeah, I get retirement stipends from Unova, so I can do some things others can't, I guess. I count myself lucky that they've taken care of me, despite that I'd rather just be working."
Sighing out, he tries to leave that notion behind, instead watching as Reddy willfully lets go of that empty cup so it can be thrown away - amused that it has the capacity for being well behaved - before moving to pass Faolan before she can get too far ahead of him so he can push the door open for her instead. "Scary, huh? Well, maybe not as much as I was when I was younger and could sprint faster than most people." Chuckling, he waits for her to step outside, and closes the door behind them, pausing as she passes that flirt off.
Opening his mouth, he almost flirts back, but decides to keep what he had rattling around locked in that little cage in his head. No, no, you should behave, Lionel. In the end he just says, "Don't worry, I'm pretty certain I can protect you even without a pair of cuffs. Let's just hope it doesn't come to that."
Faolan watches his thorough cleaning with some small measure of admiration - and with a little inkling that he's really more of a boy scout than he lets on. Regardless, it does earn some appreciative looks from the employees wiping down tables and sweeping up the floors, and although her comment doesn't get much in the way of a response him holding the door open for her is nice, too. She debates holding it open for him in response, but decides against it since she doesn't trust Reddy not to run out into the street. Once she steps out with the pair of her pokemon, though, Fembra automatically reaches to take a hold of the Torchic's little wing and hang onto it tight, an act that Reddy allows with a small yawn and a hop. Maybe all that running around had made him tired after all - or it was another sugar crash.
She laughs a little at his response and waits for him to set the pace, standing on the side of the sidewalk that leads to the pokemon center she's staying at. "I'm not surprised you'd rather be working. You seem like the sort. Don't worry, I have the utmost faith in you that you'll do your best." And the way she says it sounds a lot like she means it. Nevermind the look that touches her eyes, the kind that is at best sincere and -- maybe even a little affectionate? But she doesn't say anything more on the subject and turns to look up at the streetlights as they flicker into life overhead, the few people still milling about on the sidewalk taking that as a cue to wander in the direction of home.
Samson seems to be keeping an eye on Reddy as the whole unit steps outside, leaving the coffee shop behind. As Fembra's grasp upon him is met with relatively mellow response, the Growlithe lets his guard drop (for better or for worse,) and just walks alongside the pair of them, staring up at Lionel now and then; he seemed to want to keep an eye on him, too. But, luckily, the man seems rather happy, and therefore, Samson doesn't really have anything to worry about either. It seems to feel odd to him, not having to worry - but he makes up for it with occasionally looking around the area, like he was surveying.
Sometimes, he glances to Fembra, like he isn't sure what to make of her, and is quick to look away in turn, when she might turn her eyes to him.
Lionel gestures for Faolan to follow him along, in the direction of a few rather tall buildings, though one was clearly a hotel, its great, vertical sign spelling the word out a dead give-away, and off they go. His expression seems pleased, and a little pink, as she says she has faith in him, and it's met with a short laugh. "Yeah, I was always married to my work. It's why I've been single so long. Nobody ever wanted to be with a police officer who didn't know how to turn off."
He shrugs, supposing that was an awful sad thing to say. He follows it up with, "It's off now, though. Usually. What's wrong with a little vigilante justice, now and then?" Smirking, he stuffs his hands in his pockets and continues onward, his limp apparent, despite that he seemed to be trying not to let it show so much. This guy wanted to be a trainer?
"As to be expected. Though when you say vigilante justice I expect more of a ripping-your-shirt-open-to-reveal-an-L-logo sort of thing. Please tell me I'm at least half right."
Faolan keeps pace with Lionel easy enough; it's not because she thinks it'll keep things easy for him, but rather to prolong their journey for as long as possible and spend more time together. Fembra and Reddy seem to understand this well enough, after a few looks to their master and then exchanged between each other - though Reddy is quick to droop and drag his little bird feet, and then eventually just goes limp completely, leaving Fembra to drag him along the sidewalk - and their pace keeps almost perfect time with Lionel's, like a soldier's march.
As they walk, it seems like the shadows are lengthening, the few groups of people around them thinning out until she can hardly see anyone else on the sidewalk save for them. The windows of houses are coming to life, silhouettes of families and happy couples and the like dancing in and out of sight as they go about their daily lives.
And the hotel that Lionel is staying at looms at a closer distance than she'd expected, like a great slumbering depressive beast reminding her that this is where they part ways. The pokecenter hostel she's put herself up in for the few days she's in the city is a little further away, but in the same direction so they're not that far apart. But she doesn't think she'll be staying for much longer in this city, deciding instead to get some training for her pokemon done before she thinks about challenging the gym leader. There were a few routes she'd been eying, nothing too hard for the predominantly fire-type team she had currently.
A part of her thinks maybe to ask Lionel to come along, but he doubtless has his own plans if he's thinking about becoming a decent trainer himself. And taking on the gym challenge for the Beast Ball...
That's right. If he was a trainer then that meant that he was competition. And as such, it would probably be in her best interests not to linger here for much longer and to get Reddy and Fembra trained up as soon as possible.
The pokecenter is closer now, and her steps have slowed. When it's a few yards away she stops completely and gives Lionel a small smile.
"Unfortunately, I'm a little too late for playing super-hero, but I could at least rip my shirt off. So, yeah, half right." A chuckle leaves him as one of his hands tugs at his shirt's collar, though only briefly.
It's a lovely evening, really. The sun had begun sinking behind the tallest buildings, the shadows got ever longer, and for some reason, it all carries with it an odd sense of finality that made him uncomfortable. Like this was the last time he'd ever see her - but that's anxiety more than anything else, he's sure. Inside his pocket, his thumb rubs at the edge of his phone, a reminder he was able to text her, to get a hold of her that way. Besides, she'd seemed... interested? Or had he simply lost his touch, his ability to read what someone thought of him?
Slowly, terribly slowly, the two of them arrive just a short distance from the Pokecenter, and it's a surprisingly somber scene for how pretty the world around them seemed to be, how alive. When Faolan speaks, he's so occupied with looking at her (like he was committing it to memory, like she had during their speed date,) that he almost doesn't hear her, though he certainly watches her mouth move. It takes his mind a moment to catch up, to rewind and replay, and he offers a smile in return to hers.
"I suppose that it is."
Looking over to the Pokecenter, Lionel seems awfully thoughtful, or perhaps rueful, with the way his brows knit. Like he was thinking of going back on what he had said earlier and inviting her back on that second date after all - even if it was simply to sit in that hotel room and talk until morning. But, of course, he doesn't, because he knows better, and instead, he extends his hand to carefully lift hers, if she'll let him. He'd then clasp his other over it, and hold her much smaller one with gentleness.
"I'm glad I got to see you today, Faolan. I hope I get to see you again sooner rather than later."
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