FUCK, I HATE SWIMMING (Lethe)

[Phobos]

Some days you just needed to sit down and evaluate your cruddy little life.

Phobos drifted aimlessly along the waves, reclining on the back of his massive Wailord. It was perfect for amateur philosophy hour: big, floaty, and didn't talk enough to interrupt him from his funk. Instead he was free to just sit and think, staring at the sky until the sun started burning.

Some days he wondered what he was doing. Just sitting around in a shitty town in the ass end of the globe, starving to death. And for what? To get away from his old home where he'd just be dehydrating to death anyway? Maybe he could just go onto the front lines, fight for the dogs who exploited him and die getting blown to bits or Earthquaked instead. It'd be much more interesting than just starving to death in the middle of bumblefuck nowhere, that's for sure. Not like he was doing anything of much note, after all. Just sitting around, stupidly fermenting food supply and turning it into booze so he could cope.

Some days he wondered why he was even here. He wasn't even close to a great trainer, having to awkwardly fumble his way out of combat after combat back in his Cipher days. He couldn't create worth a damn, even when he still had hands. He wasn't a thinker, unless one counted finding ingenious ways of avoiding work as thinking. He was just . . . there. Space filler. When he was gone, would it even be a big loss? Would anyone even care?

Some days he wished he had never joined this stupid war effort in the first place. Other times he just laughed at the thought. He'd still be living alone in a shithole. He still wouldn't have anyone to care for, or to be cared for by. He would've still died, fucked up by that Wes guy or something.

Then the Wailord seemed to notice something in the distance and let out a low moan of joy. It began swimming, eagerly bouncing up and down and creating small waves in its wake. Phobos' eyes widened in panic as he realized what it meant. "No, Butterfield, calm d-"

KER-SPLASH! As Butterfield lazily drifted away, Phobos rolled off of his back and fell right into the water. He fought the current, letting out a resigned sigh. Really, he should've seen this coming . . .

[lethe]

Lethe could no longer remember a time when there hadn't been a deep, but dull ache that splintered into her bones with a thrumming that was set to a rhythm she could never quite place. All she knew was that it left her bones feeling heavy, so heavy, and her mind in a fog. Somehow, she managed to keep moving. Above, she didn't have to look to know that Enlil flitted about, a frail watchman. Crew members kept an eye on the wailord on the horizon - it was hard not to spot.

It wasn’t like her other ship, this one. Lux hadn’t become any more keen on spending too much for the sake of the Hoenn cause, and yet here she was on a frigate. An old beauty, renamed the Ever Grande, Lethe had whipped up enough of a crew to keep her going. Beauty, perhaps only because Lethe had never actually hoped to achieve even this much recognition. Leaving Cipher to be more openly Lux had it's perks, once you proved your worth loyalty.

Captain remained at her side, always near, through some miracle. For her, he remained alert, no longer the chipper creature he’d been back in Orre … Fuck Orre.

It was the floatzel's bark pulled her attention to- oh, well that just figured. Lo and behold, the giant fucking Wailord making waves as it moved right towards them. Friendly, sure, but intentions wouldn't keep her boat from being crushed by the beast. Why even fight it?

The crew scattered about, doing what they could. But she could feel them looking to her for direction, of all people.  Oh.

She noticed Enlil gone from above the Lux-drafted ship, only to spot him making sharp dives and strikes up into the air, an attempt to glean Lethe’s attention to whatever he was hovering over out in the ocean, too close to the whale for Lethe's comfort. If she lost him ... A sharp whistle from the woman and Captain was in the water, cutting through it to seek out whatever the Masquerain had found. She’d trust no one else to do it. And so, she snapped back to attention and began barking orders. It didn't matter whether or not Lux kept their promises; she would.


Captain wasn't the sharpest, but he was good enough, and loyal enough, and still alive. He cut through the water, but stopped sharply before the familiar orange armor, giving a sharp bark before whirling around. Maybe not the sharpest, but even he knew he had to puzzle out how to help the familiar man without moving right into one of those drills.

Meanwhile, Enlil did nothing for Lethe's nerves, speeding away from Phobos once he saw Captain ... and towards the wailord. Once in front of one of the creature's eyes, he flitted about, desperately trying to draw the other pokemon's attention. 

Phobos

[Phobos]

Phobos looked at the Masquerain and Floatzel, blinking a few times. They looked strangely familiar, but the man couldn't put his finger on where he had seen them before . . . probably because he didn't have fingers anymore.

Either way, fighting the current was a much more pressing issue than staring at a bug and a weasel. His giant, clunky hands made trying to stay afloat a huge issue, and his Cipher uniform wasn't making it too easy either. He was big, bogged down by his heavy outfit, and not exactly the most in-shape after his languishing around in Oldale Town. For this reason his attempts at treading water looked more like a wacky waving arm flailing inflatable tubeman, and would definitely be comical if not for the risk of drowning.

He looked pleadingly at the Floatzel swimming around, asking, "Oi, you got a log or something I could grab onto? Not having too great of a time down he-." A sudden rush of seawater down his throat silenced him, leaving him sputtering and gasping for air. This is just fan-fucking-tastic.

Butterfield, meanwhile, stared at the little Masquerain for quite a while. The tiny thing was about the size of one of his beady eyes, a mere speck of dust to him. However, after a long period of blank stares, the Wailord finally seemed to get that a little thing was trying to get his attention. He tilted his head curiously, smiled widely, and let out a cheerful bellow. Unfortunately, a cheerful bellow to a 47-foot whale was probably like a solid wall of force to a 2-foot bug thing. Hopefully this wouldn't be too unpleasant for little Enlil!

At least the recognition caused Butterfield to stop splashing about. Instead he bobbed placidly in the water, slowly swimming up to the ship to check it out. So big . . . with so many little people on it . . . it was almost like one of those picture books! The Wailord's beady eyes slowly rolled back and forth, as if he was trying to count all of the little people.

[lethe]

Captain gave off a worried, warbling bark before diving in to attempt at grabbing Phobos by the back of his armor. He wasn't really that great at keeping others afloat, as it had never been his job, but he tried to sink his teeth into the back without nicking the man or losing too much a hold - how successful he would be at keeping the man up while whipping his two tails around and trying to pull back would remain to be seen.

Enlil went flying with the bellow, but managed to pull himself upright and keep himself from dipping into the ocean. Once he recovered, he'd definitely flit back to Lethe.

Speaking of, the captain of the ship stepped forward, cautiously eyeing the wailord as she moved to glance over the ship to around where Enlil had been flitting. She saw a good spot of orange- but that wasn't all captain. She squinted, shielding her eyes with a hand she lifted from the railing, for a moment distracted from the existance of a huge fucking whale. No way. "Phobos, is that you? Can ya hear me?"

"Phobos, I swear, if that's you ...!" It didn't have the ... nicest tone to it, that last bit.

[Phobos]

"Yes, good, just go for a lo-"

CHOMP

". . . Okay, that works too. Thanks!" He clumsily paddled his feet to help the Floatzel move, knowing that between his armor and his giant hands he must not have been the easiest person to carry.

Then he heard her voice calling out to him. "Ho-ly shit . . . " he remarked, a bit taken back. It was a voice he hadn't heard since Moros bit the dust, and yet here it was as clear as day. It may have been a year but he knew he'd never forget that voice. He raised his clumsily-made hands, a clear sign of who he was, and waved them as an SOS to let Lethe know he was there.

Then came the dangerous tone in her voice and he quickly put them down, whistling innocently. Nope, no Phobos here!

[lethe]

Captain was strong, but not extraordinarily so, barely managing to keep the man's head above water with the powerful motor spinning of his tails, using what he good of the man's help to steer them toward the side of the ship. Lethe stared as Phobos raised and then lowered his drill-hands, before sighing and grabbing a lifebuoy out of the hesitant hands of a crew member and tossing it down. "Here! Don't pop the damn thing!"

She then made a wide gesture towards the giant fucking whale pokemon. "Is that yours?"

[Phobos]

"Who? Butterfield? Yeah, he's mine." The man with no hands on deck quickly scrambled onto the lifeboat, awkwardly pushing himself on with his wrists to avoid breaking it. It was kinda painful, but way less painful than a lung full of seawater. "Hope the big guy hasn't given you too much trouble. Bucked me off all of a sudden while we were out for a swim. Wonder why."

The whale, meanwhile, peered down at Lethe with a single, coal black eye. At first he merely looked at her, which must have been quite unnerving when his eye was as big as she was. However, soon he let out a dopey smile of recognition and a happy keening sound. He prepared to start bouncing with joy, but Phobos quickly thrust out his arms to try and stop him. "Slow down, Butterfield! I know, I know, we're all happy to see Lethe again.

Shit, its been ages! How are ya?"