as wild as the sea (open)

[cold volume]

WHERE OCEANS BLEED INTO THE SKY
@open

He was seated at a little cafe thrust up against the edge of the harbor. The tables were barrels, old, their rings rusted and green from the sea air. He drank a hot mug of honey brandy, hair swaying in the cold wind. It was a comfortable and silent bar - though most of the tables were full, it seemed to attract the soft-spoken.

Kyle felt like he could drift away in Proserpina, his table more pressed up against the edge of the dock than the rest of the folks'. Everything was just as it was supposed to be, and he was reluctant to venture onward. His grey coat collar was hitched up to shield his face from the fierce cold wind. It might be spring, but the sea always had a bite. In the cold water below, the lapras roamed, twining herself in the mists.

"I'm sorry, sir, we're running out of seating. Do you mind?" A waitress asked, leading a new costumer to the opposite side of his table.

"Oh, not at all, actually," he said, pleased to have the company.

[mikey]

Perhaps Fleance should have gone to another cafe. There were too many people here. While small, it was filled with people. He frowned. What he had intended to do was eat and drink on his own, listening to the folks around him to catch up on some more recent news of their surroundings in a far more cheaper way than those “reliable” papers they called news. But his feet wouldn't walk away from the waitress that lead the way. Old habits kept him walking forward after them.

At least the other the waitress had sent him to sit across did not seem talkative. He gave a short decline of his head. A simple nod of thanks and acknowledgment before taking the seat across.

He looked the other way, glancing at the waves before taking a glance at the menu that was placed before him. His gaze was sharp at the woman before turning towards the pamphlet. Something cheap. He couldn't care less what it was.

cold volume

[cold volume]

WHERE OCEANS BLEED INTO THE SKY
@open

The menu rose up between the two men, one would rather look bitterly at the sea and the other at the waitress with her beer pitcher. They were two silences beside the ocean, the clinking of glasses, and the soft chatter of the locales who knew all the good, hidden places.

"You're not from here either, are you?" he asked after a while had passed since the guy picked up his menu.

mikey

[mikey]

A blond eyebrow raised slightly at the question. "... Not from this city." The other was half right. He was born and raised elsewhere, but he had lived in this region long enough to have met the scourge. The virus infected creatures that tore apart many pokemon in their rage. They were formidable rivals. He caught ear of others who talked of how their own pokemon were lost. The despair and relief they had found somewhere safe.

He turned his attention from the outside gossip. "You?" Though his tone implied otherwise, he attempted to continue the conversation.

cold volume

[cold volume]

mikey

Prosperpina wasn't his home. The waters were greenish black as if heavy with brine and sailors bones. The Lapras seemed to enjoy the mist, but it unsettled the breeder. His home? A long story, and though this was a locals pub, he was never the person for long and tedious tails.

"Yes, completely stumbled across this place. I'll say despite it all, it's nice to see what else is out there in the world. Uh, excuse me, you can call me Kay. Do you know what you are going to order?" He motioned to the waitress with a quick look, picking up his drink for another gulp. "I just ordered a beer, but so many strange drinks. Oyster vodka?" He laughed a little.