Schooner

The tugboat stuttered along, and Linebeck rotated the wheel with all the muscle memory that allowed him to tuck into an autopilot haze. Not that it mattered, but the empty ferry felt as bitter as the pennies that tumbled over one another in the collection stand as the waves rose and rocked the hull. Somewhat rough today, he noted, with clouds lazily rolling in and a blistering breeze occasionally whipping through his body. The waterscape was oddly quiet as well, typically nuisances in the form of hulking pokemon would be breaching in a way that would be terrifyingly too close. Especially closer to sunset, but today was interestingly stagnant. 

A shrill cry disturbed Linebeck's musing and a fluttering creature tore through the air beside the ship, the captain jolting at the sound as a lone wingull darted past. Linebeck's body tensed through the intrusion, unsettled by the interaction as he watched white wings bat at the air and struggle against the cruel breeze. That didn't look right. 

There was a rise and surge in the small bird's chaotic path, spinning vertically with resignation before gliding down, down, and directly into the surging waters below. Linebeck stared ahead in uncertainty before breaking his habitual path with a snap of his wrist, cutting the engine and letting his vessel ease forward. The sound of his boots were stifled as his heart thumped in his ears, reaching for the net he usually used to scoop and fling projectile magikarp back into the murky waters. He peered over the side of the ship with an unlikely amount of concern for the small pokémon, the white easily identifiable surrounded by the deep blue and gold tones. 

Dropping the net lower, he retrieved the creature after a little bit of a struggle. Raising it and reeling it in one hand over the other, peering into the net with a scowl. The handful of feathers wiggled before Linebeck was met with half lidded, disoriented beady little eyes. 

He grumbled, unsure of what to do. He wasn't keen on being bitten, setting the net down and stripping his button-up shirt to tuck into the net and wrap around his unlikely passenger. Little yellow feet kicked in the air as Linebeck plucked it up, swaddling it almost as efficiently as he used to with those little rapscallions he indirectly cared for on the daily. The wingull really was just pocket-sized, Linebeck's hands trembling as he tucked it near his chest with the little beak exposed. 

A hop skip and tumultuous amount of worry later, Linebeck tucked his ferry boat into the dock with a thumb running soothingly over the little bird's forehead and beak. He had kept it as snug and warm as he could, immediately melting the instant he had been nuzzled into. Assuming the wingull knew it was safe was a puzzling affair, whatever Linebeck did to help felt genuinely rewarding. He tried not to overthink it, but his mind was reeling with what-ifs as he batted away the consideration he might not be able to get it to safety in time. 

He said his swift goodbyes to the eager teens that approached him, waving off Link and Tetra's greetings with a hurried trot. It wasn't subtle in the least, but it was his best attempt to hide the shivering creature bunched against his chest and snuggling into his white undershirt. 

Linebeck had never even stepped foot inside of a Pokémon center, not since he was much younger. Never really needed to, he didn't like how nicely it was set up. It felt much too fancy for the likes of him.

Approaching the woman at the front was daunting, his disposition unintentionally defensive as he explained he had no pokeball. He wasn't needing one, being argued with that he'd need one to be able to take it home. He didn't want to take it home. That was too bad he was told, fine, he'd buy a ball while he waited. 

Perusing the options at the gift shop-like store would have been easy, 200 for a regular ball but there were actually neat and colorful ones. There were some for pokémon who lived in certain places even, guilt starting to crush Linebeck's chest until he selected one he thought might be the most sentimental. As ridiculous as it made him feel, he retired to the waiting room with an exhausting moral battle round and cupped in his hands. 

His name was called finally, it was late and that just made him feel worse knowing it took so long to fix that poor thing. He slinked back to the desk and was overwhelmed with signing digital papers and given registration information, pokédex thrust at him so that he could put this wingull in a box if he wanted to. Absolutely not. 

As he finished up, a door opened and another pink pokemon wheeled in a small cart with that wingull sat on the edge. Oh, how nervous and hopeful it looked, and Linebeck grimaced as it almost immediately recognized him. Taking flight temporarily and stopping short to land on the desk when Linebeck reeled, their energy tensed for just a brief moment before the nurse snatched him by the wrist. Grinning patiently as she guided him to reach for the pokémon who all but scrambled to set atop his hand. The webbed toes were cold but gripped on with a surprising amount of care, the consistent numbness in Linebeck's hand gracing him with the opportunity of feeling the teeny slappy feet. They danced excitedly and Linebeck found it so cruel for the little thing to be so kind back to him.

Linebeck pulled back, raising the small bird eye level before holding out the net ball in his hand. The wingull stretched its wings eagerly, with a damning press of a button it was out of sight and a registration screen appeared on the pokedex. 

It was a he, he was smaller than usual and Linebeck was given an option to name him. Furrowing his eyebrows he was released by the staff finally, pondering over the screen before muttering to himself softly.