#celioplusplus

Watch as he reaches out to push his hand against the back of her head just to spite her on that

Whirls around and grabs him by the shirt, before dragging him several centimetres into the air.

“Lay those greasy, cheeto-dusted fingers on me one more time...just one...

“ Alola there ! 

Ah, pardon my rudeness but...you happen to look familiar somehow ? I know we haven’t met but, i feel as though I know you from somewhere ? “

The Captain tapped his chin, rose colored brows furrowed somewhat in thought. His mind recollected to the several articles and books Ilima has studied. He remembered reading several articles about different region’s Pokemon Storage programmers, fascinated by Alola’s own Mr. Molayne.

He snapped his fingers, eyes brightening as he finally remembered.

⊰ ⊗ ⊱

                    His scream was loud enough that he’d believe the folks down in town way to the far south of the island would be able to hear him. That was an exaggeration — Kindle Road was a long and rugged path, and he was far too far away from any other houses within his own home nestled in the shadow of the volcano for anyone to ever realistically be able to hear him, but it really was very loud. he had good reason to be loud. With how sharp her teeth were, Celio figured it wouldn’t be that far fetched to suspect that she may very well have drawn a bit of blood.

                    It didn’t leave him with very much time to question why in the world Amanita would be biting his leg before he instinctively kicked her away and stumbled backwards, his knees bending so he could give his injury a quick once-over.

                    "What — what the hell are you doing??!! That hurts!!”

What was she doing? Wasn’t it already obvious from her dishevelled lab coat, and her harried expression that she was in a pinch? No girl ever got on their hands and knees unless truly desperate -- she wasn’t even going to get started on Celio’s language, but she had seen much worse used on the Internet. (Truly a marvellous place. According to her big sis, the things they wrote about Celio and Bill there would turn a luvdisc a few shades darker than it already was. Amanita didn’t know if it was true, though.)

Amanita touched her face. No, her glasses hadn’t magically returned to her face yet. Thankfully, Celio hadn’t kicked her in the face, either. Who would have thought that coming to Celio’s place would result in misplaced glasses and attempted domestic violence?

She shrieked back, because it was only fair to.

⊰ ⊗ ⊱

                    "Of course. I’ll get right on it.”

                     An easy peasy request when all was said and done. Despite its piddling low local population One Island’s economy revolved around tourism, which meant there was no shortage of inns for those that came seeking adventure or a spa day in the springs the island was renowned for. Celio kicked his sock-clad feet against the floor, the wheels of his chair squeaking as he rolled away from his computer and over to a relatively empty desk ( relative because it still had a couple of laptops on it; it was too much to ask to find a surface within his house totally devoid of some sort of computer ), his left hand shooting out to scoop up a ballpoint pen so he could scribble down a quick note to run over to the Ember Spa as soon as he was finished with his latest bit of coding to reserve a spot for Leaf in one of the inns closest to the springs.

                    "Are you on the ferry yet, or are you still waiting for it in the mainland?? I know the ferry takes a long time to get here, so I’ll just finish a little more work here and run up through Kindle Road on my way home once I’m done here in the Network Centre for the day to get you a place. Is that fine with you??”

Oh man, she knew she could trust Celio! He sounded reliable as ever over the phone. It brought a grin to Leaf’s face as she leaned on the railings of the ferry’s deck. 

Man, it sure felt good to be on vacation. Getting to see and meet old friends while she enjoyed herself was like having dessert after a great meal. Had Celio changed much? Were all the ladies at the hot springs still gossiping over the latest content

“I am --”

Leaf’s voice was cut off by a sudden, impatient flutter of something, and for a while all that was heard from her side of the call was a lot of fumbling. She’d nearly dropped her phone as the ferry ploughed through a rather large wave.

   A short-lived battle and one kick to the side later, Jasmine found herself limping over to where Celio still lay on the ground. She’d seen him crumble under the blow from some anonymous assailant, had been furious when they’d dared to kick him while he was down not once, but twice. Jasmine had sprung into action, burying sharp incisors into the flesh on the back of the attacker’s leg in an attempt to get them to stop hurting the green-haired boy. She could still taste blood, and it stained her muzzle and teeth red. 

   She hadn’t held on long, as right afterward she’d received a kick that sent her rolling across the ground. She’d done enough, though, it seemed. She rose to her feet and saw the assailant retreating, leaving a broken trail of blood behind them. 

   Now she focused on Celio, ignoring the pain in her side and sniffing at his face. He was bleeding pretty badly... he’d need help. That lady at the Pokemon center could probably help, right? Hell, even one of the Chansey there would be better than nothing right now.

[”C’mon.”] She nudged his arm with her nose, trying to urge him to rise as she raised a paw in the direction of the Center. [”We gotta get you somewhere safer.”]

          “You’re jokin’ right?” Hayley responded with a frown, crossing her arms as she stared up at Celio. 

       There were many reasons that she never let certain Pokemon out together on the ranch, and rivalries like that between Zangoose and Seviper was just one. Even if a Pokemon was bred and raised by humans, instincts still remained, and as nice as it would be to see them playing together, it just wasn’t worth the risk of one getting hurt. 

One Island, Sevii archipelago. Usually such a peaceful place. Usually such a peaceful, boring, UNASSUMING place, far, far away from the chaos and noise of Kanto’s big cities. Just a splatter of dull little dirt mounds on the fringes of civilisation. Nothing exciting ever happens here, except her. She’s counting on it—the last place interpol would ever think to look for her.

Unnoticed by the neighbourhood watch, the door to one of the island’s quaint little cottages sits ajar. The light early-evening breeze pushes against the wood to make it sway, just a little bit...sunlight and stray seeds floating merrily down the hallway within, innocently unaware of their own intrusion. All is still, and quiet, save for the stray whimper that drifts from the open window atop the abode of local programming wunderkind, “Celio”. A villager had told her the name. Reluctantly, their eyes full of distrust as their gaze bore a hole at the centre of her stained brand name t-shirt. She reeks of outsider. The sound carries meekly upon the wind, only to drop before it can reach any pair of listening ears. But then, who would even hear in this dead little village? The trees?

“Your trainer’s taking his sweet time, huh.”

The sound of squealing intensifies. Clarissa tightens her grip around the lush, leafy appendages sprouting from Hopps’ head and pulls firmly. The vegetable’s beady little yellow eyes scrunch in pain, its stumpy pink limbs squirming ineffectively against the (stained, brand name) shirt of its captor. Clarissa regards the thing’s struggle with disinterest, cold blue eyes watching passively as she twists the branches further, listening to them stretch and creak.

Hopps’ wails die out into a silent, open-mouthed scream, the tiny creature’s lungs clearly exhausted as its breath rasps in hurried, quiet gasps. Clarissa lays with her back to Celio’s bed. One leg bent at a relaxed angle, the other dangling so that the toe of her boot just scrapes the floorboards...greasy hair strewn across the pillows, her fingers tangled in foliage.