Petrel was intoxicated- and to be fair that wasn't  uncommon. Yet today  was a very special day in the mauve haired male's life, his birthday- or at least the one he had chosen for himself upon applying for Team Rocket- which coincidentally was the very date he sent in the application twelve years ago. He had landed in a small city, one bereft of any club that could sate his thirst on this dreary night. The place rarely saw outsiders let alone such a heavy drinker and the bartender had cautiously cut the man off only half an hour ago while the night was still relatively young.

So with both his birthday and anniversary in mind he set out, determined to find something to fill the void that was slowly overtaking the alcohol.

"I can't stop this feelin' Deep inside a' me Girl, you just don't re-ah-lize What you done ta me"

He was no great singer but in his drunken bravado he was at least entertaining. His voice rang out in the largely unoccupied streets- he had no idea of just how late it was or that a pretty serious storm was just begining to roll in.- Petrel swung himself around a lamp post, continuing on his jaunty little single party parade.

"When ya hold me In yah arms so tight You let me kno-oww Everythins-allllll rightt"

He was undeniably lost and masking a bit of woe with the veritable ocean of liquor he had consumed. The man had the appearance of a veteran trainer with his belt of Pokeballs, black trench coat and formfitting pants, cranberry turtleneck, and a pair of well worn combat boots that had seen many years of travel. Making him stand out- besides his wailing- was his crop of purple hair that had long been flattened by the rain.

Many assumptions could be made about him, he could be a washed up trainer lamenting his glory days, he could be a scorned lover, he could be a predator using the guise of drunkenness to lure people in, but tonight Petrel played no such role. Tonight Petrel just aimed to forget. He picked up the pace, boots sloshing against the ground as he takes on another lamp post swinging his lanky body around it but faltering upon release, spilling to the ground. He laughed a booming, inviting laugh now completely soaked.

His voice rings out again unflinchingly, with no shame.

"I-yieyieeaaaa- I'm hooked on a feelin'! I'm high on believin' That you're in loooove with meee--"

Petrel stands woozily dragging his feat along the pavement, with no particular destination in mind. He'd seem an easy target for theft or worse and depending on the type of individual he might come across that could be a very good or bad thing. A more noble person might take him in though if they were anything like himself they'd take advantage.

Morty has problems with very few things on this earth, one of his greatest concerns however would be severe weather. For your own information it happens to be storming horrifically in little Ecruteak city. The blonde has always been wary about storms, earthquakes, droughts, floods, you name it he dreads it. So naturally as soon as the weatherman had predicted hurricane force winds and torrential downpour Morty prepared for Armageddon.

He had stayed cooped up in his little home since morning, long before the storm “Just in case.”

Days before he had posted a sign at his Gym saying they’d be closed the day of the storm and the day after. “Just in case.”

Morty had also made sure to do all of his shopping, errands, and had even checked up on all of the city folk well in advance. “Just in case.”

He wanted to pass the night as smoothly as possible, with no need to leave his humble home and certainly without any dire incidents.

The first strike had occurred when Morty lost power just as the storm began picking up. He had prepared for this by giving Tonks – his Gengar a lantern to carry around. Morty had then sprawled out on his couch with a cup of tea and a thick book. He was studying the myth of the legendary dogs again, one of his personal favorites.  There were handwritten notes in all the margins of the book suggesting that he had read it dozens of times already.

Due to his concentration on the material he hadn’t heard the frantic knocking at his door until Tonks pranced back and forth waving his arms to get his trainer’s attention. “Bub I know the weather is bad but you’re gonna give me a hernia if you keep it up.” The Gengar gave Morty a look of exasperation and whined gesturing to the door still jangling the lantern. Finally he heard the knocking. In no hurry to subject himself to the horrors of the disaster zone outside Morty shuffled over to his door, tucking the book under his arm.

As the Gym leader of such a small place he often received visits from strangers in need.  On occasion the nurses from the Pokecenter would send the overflow trainers in need for the night right to the leader.  He figured it was only a matter of time before someone showed up with the weather the way it was. He brushed his long blonde hair out of his eyes as he looked out the peephole of his door – Nothing, just darkness. Wonderful.. Slowly he undid the deadbolt and opened the door, violet eyes traveling vacantly to the visitor. “..It’s probably not a good idea to be outside with the weather like this.”  

The musky scent of incense wafts out the door as the tall man peers down at the soaked individual before him. Gengar bounces up floating level with Morty’s shoulder clearly more interested in the visitor than his trainer was. In the darkness of the room Tonks appears only as a set of ruby red eyes floating threateningly beside the blonde.