worthallthis | Victory Road: IC Contact

That's an interesting concept, apologizing to make one's self feel better. If that's the case... he nods once, a little hesitantly, then says, "Just wanted to make sure you didn't think I was mad at you. I'm just glad you're back."

And not only is it a probably expensive gift, and kind of Entrapta, it's even more thoughtful because that's amazing. The idea that something could protect him from electricity? Jesus. He looks between the two of them again, looking vaguely stunned, and finally pops the pokeball open. The Mudbray hops into existence with a honking... well, bray. And it promptly looks around, and then headbutts the Soldier's stomach.

The smile inches onto his face again as he scratches between the long ears. That is fucking adorable. "Thank you. Very much."

Steven ends up smiling too—a real one, not just one of his pleasantries. They're sweet together. "Even small like that they'll be about to carry an awful lot," he says. "Once they evolve, they'll be pretty much the strongest Pokemon you'll find. And they look amazing as Mudsdales—like a real warhorse. They're definitely my riding Pokemon of choice.

"We got one with some egg moves already too," he adds. "Entrapta was already asking questions about them and I figured why not? And Roar is as useful as hell when you're traveling and you don't need to get dragged into a whole impromptu battle with a wild Pokemon."

The Mudbray, small as it is, still comes up to Entrapta's waist as she darts forward to take its face gently in both hands and pat it with a wide grin. "I have so many extra notes to share with you about breeding standards from the Moomoo Farms!" she says brightly, beaming up at Winter again.

"I'll look forward to you sharing them with me," he says, sounding warmer than usual. The Mudbray flicks his little tail and snorts in Entrapta's face, but kindly doesn't stamp on her toes.

He glances over at Steven again. "This is very kind of you, as well." That couldn't have been cheap. Egg moves. Jesus. This Mudbray is probably the most valuable pokemon in either of their groups, now. "Do you. Want to stay for lunch? You've been flying a long time." And that can't be comfortable. Hungry work, sitting in the cold air as the wind buffets you around. He's kind of amazed Entrapta's hair isn't in giant snarls.

"I would, thank you," Steven says, sounding relieved. "I can just warp home, of course, when it's time, so I don't see why I can't see a little more of Azalea while I'm here. The last time I came I was mostly preoccupied with work."

Not that Winter would know it, but largely the lack of tangles is thanks to Leslie at this point. Now that he's stopped patting the babies, he pushes himself into standing on Grace's back for a moment, and makes the easy leap from there onto Entrapta's arm and climbs onto her shoulder so he can get piggybacked again.

"Does that mean you've found any restaurants here that serve tiny food?" she asks Winter, sincerely and eagerly.

Sara waves her rock at Leslie in farewell, then makes motions like she'd like up on Grace's back, too. Grace pretends not to notice them, instead nosing Stevie back to the Soldier. (Winter. Come on, man.)

Luckily, knowing her weird penchant for small food, he's been looking. "The jazz club serves these things called 'orderves'--" He means hors d'oeuvre, clearly, but he's never seen it written and though he could translate the French to know what it actually means, it hasn't occurred to him that he needs to. "--which are pretty small. They might be small enough for you. Also, the music is great." Which shouldn't surprise her at all. He listens to the jazz stations on the radio whenever he gets the chance.

Steven smiles. "I heard there's going to be a tiny food pop-up restaurant later this year in Goldenrod," he comments. "But not the exact dates or anything. I could let you know when it happens, though. But yes, hors d'oeuvres are pretty small in and of themselves. So you like jazz, Winter?"

Entrapta has nothing else to say for the moment; she's listening, but she's also letting the two men talk amongst themselves, as she instead bends down to pick up Sara and carry the Happiny in her arms to rescue her from Grace's snubs, and starts happily playing with her nubby hands.

Sara seems quite content to be picked up and snuggled. "Happinyyyyy."

"That's Sara," the Soldier puts in for her. "I'm not sure where I got her anymore. But she's very kind. Maybe a little bossy."

Back to Steven, starting to lead the way slowly in the direction of the jazz club. It takes obvious effort to say, "Yes. I. Do." He's not supposed to like things, it's not allowed, but it was a direct question and he doesn't like to lie. And no one has punished him in weeks, so maybe it's a little okay to break the rules. "Listen to it on the devices. All the time."

Steven nods. "There's a station out from Goldenrod that plays it," he says. "I work in the Radio Tower," he adds. "In the newsroom, right now, but eventually I'd like to be an announcer. Do you two have a phonograph or any sort of portable music players? Because there's a used and new record shop by the Tower and you could probably get some albums there. And I assume you'll be heading there eventually."

"No! Largely we've been using Winter's gear to play local radio channels," Entrapta notes brightly. "With the occasional clutches of eggs our Pokemon produce, it's inconvenient to carry any particularly large leisure items as of yet. They take up so much space!"

That word is very familiar. Records. Phonographs. "Just the radio," the Soldier says, but sounding distracted, a little vague, as they walk towards the club. He's frowning slightly, now, one hand on the Mudbray as it clops along beside him, Grace training behind with Stevie bounding at her heels.

He says a step or two later, "I. Think I used to have one, though." How could that be possible? HYDRA wouldn't let the Asset have a record player, Christ. During that time when the Stupid Target said they were supposedly friends, that he doesn't remember?

Steven nods. "I suppose a walkman would be the easiest thing to transport," he muses out loud, "but you'd still have to carry your tape or CD collection. Vinyl's got better sound quality," he adds. "Jack swears by it. But, uh, definitely the hardest to bring around with you. I think they used to have little phonograph suitcases, though. My dad said he had one when he was younger. But by the time I really started to care about music, everyone was listening to cassette tapes."

Victory Road: IC Contact

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