“… They thought it was a Lugia,” Alston continued, as he paced back and forth in front of the carvings. From the moment he had arrived (way later than the time he had told Blaine, by the way, but the delcatty was by now more than used to his tardiness) he had stayed glued to the wall like a magnet to a fridge, blabbering on about his cave scribbles and what “they” may or may not have thought they meant. Blaine wasn’t quite sure who he was even talking about and, quite frankly, didn’t feel like investigating. His body was still sore from the events of the day prior. His eyes couldn’t help but wander toward the calm waves, the soft breeze, the low light, the painting-like landscape unfolding right before their eyes. He wondered how Alston had so much energy left in him. Did he even sleep last night? He chased away the thought. Silly him. It didn’t really matter. Alston didn’t care for the dream-like enclave, well-deserved respire, tender interlude. He was back to business as usual. Talking about pokémon, and getting stronger, and getting stronger pokémon.
Blaine sighed.
“… Of course I always thought it looked quite Ho-oh-like. If you observe the shape of the feathers-” (he pointed at what was, for all intents and purposes, a drawing of a giant wingull.) “But- Ah! They never listened to us mere grunts. And by the time Sirius took over, we had other priorities.”
The name snapped Blaine out of his stupor. He replayed the last sentence a few times over in his foggy mind. Alston had already moved on to talking about Ho-oh’s attributes. It… It shouldn’t have come as a surprise. It didn’t, not really. Blaine knew, more or less (and altho Alston never said it that clearly) that wherever he was from, both him and Sirius were part of some sort of research group. Investigating legendaries and eventually… The Below. He shuddered. He wagered it was how they met. Still, he felt his muscles tense, the fur around his neck stand up. Even in such a place, Alston couldn’t help but bring up Sirius, now could he?
By now Alston had released Crispin, boasting about the obvious similarities between it and the carvings. A giant wingull alright, Blaine thought. It wasn’t that far off. The bird unceremoniously sqwacked.
Blaine knew Alston was training Crispin behind the scenes. Or well, trying to. Because despite weeks having passed, the giant bird wasn’t behaving any better than the last time Blaine saw it. For an Alston pokemon, that was pretty much unheard of. The absol even had to forcefully recall it after it threatened to eat his arm. Alston was secretive about how he trained his own pokémon, but whatever his method was, it didn’t seem to work on that nutpea-brained beast.
He really shouldn’t, but perhaps Blaine allowed himself to find the whole thing just the littlest bit amusing…
Alston coughed. Blaine perked up. Did… Oh. He hoped Alston didn’t see him smile. That would be immensely embarrassing… But the absol brushed the incident off with an “Anyways,” and stepped closer to Blaine. He gave one small glance at Fenmor in the distance, but quickly averted his eyes. Blaine assumed the light bothered him. Maybe that was why he had stayed in the back. Oh. Should Blaine have been the one to get closer, for the absol’s comfort? Did he make a faux pas? His right eye was still awfully red. Before he knew it though, Alston was close enough to put a hand (his scared hand) on Blaine’s shoulder. Blissfully unaware of the awkwardness he had just created, he stopped to think for a moment, eyes lost at nothing in particular. Finally, his hand slid off the shoulder, took Blaine’s hand. He said: “Blaine, you’ve come so far.” (Weird resolve in his voice,) “I think it’s time. I have something for you.”
His other hand reached in his pocket for a black wooden box, small enough to fit in his hand. A jewelry box, decorated with silver. Alston said “You deserve it. I’m proud of you, Blaine.” He smirked. “Are you ready?”