nexus_crossings | (no subject)

"HiYa Caspar!" Harley greets him with her typical brightness.

"I could see you as a Cat Man. But not like Cat-Woman." A private little smile.

"I used to have two Hyenas, back in the day."

His brow furrows, not getting the joke, but he supposes he's not meant to. "I'm not planning to fill up our cabin with them, but having one around would be nice."

There's a brief look of surprise on his face, before he huffs out a dry laugh. Hyenas, sure, why not? He almost suggests that Harley get herself another pair, but he remembers that she lives in an apartment, one he has seen remotely thanks to her video of her and Adia in the aerial silks. "Guess you don't have the space for them anymore," he mutters, tugging at his tie. Did it get a little warmer around here? Dammit, think of something else. His gaze lands on the pamphlet she's reading and he points to it. "Why don't you get a pokémon that's like a hyena? I'm sure there's at least one."

"Bud and Lou never liked the city. But they put up with the confines of city living for me." Harley smiles again, thinking of her precious hyenas.

"You think so? That would be neat."

"They were wild, right? How'd you tame them?" The only thing he knows about hyenas is that they have to compete with larger predators to survive.

He shrugs. "Sure, why not? There's a pokémon that looks like a set of keys, I don't see why there wouldn't be a hyena-like one, too." He's not as well-versed in pokémon as girlfriend, but he has picked up on a few things, whether from listening to Adia or simply by being around them often enough. "Does your pamphlet list anything like that?"

"I didn't tame them." Harley clarifies. "They had their feral moments, just like any other animal. But they were good boys..."

"I don't think they could list all 800 in such a small pamphlet. But maybe there is some sort of digital inventory around..."

If anyone can handle two wild hyenas, he figures that it's Harley. All the same, he's glad that she's looking into pokémon instead.

"Is that a hint?" His mouth quirks into a half-smile. "All right. There's a poké mart not far from here, they have some sort of information terminal we could check." He stands up, brushes out the crease in his suit jacket, then grabs his coffee. Why not, right? It'll be his good deed for the day.

Harley stands, and without even thinking about it, links her arm with his. That is just her style.

"Is that the same place I found the pamphlet?"

His entire posture stiffens when she loops her arm through his. He breathes in, then out again through his nose, "Harley?" His tone is quiet. Polite. He doesn't quite look at her. "Let's not with the touching. Okay? It's not personal."

He glances again at the pamphlet. "Was it a building with a red roof and a round poké ball on it? Then yes, probably."

She releases her hold without a word.

"I think I remember a red roof. And maybe a weird ball."

His shoulders relax as soon as she lets go, glad that she listened and doubly glad that she didn't make a big deal out of it. "Do you know an undead guy named Harrowheart?" he asks her. "Because I think you two would get on like a house on fire."

That's the poké mart, then. He nods once before leading her out of the Plaza. "Adia goes there a lot. Sometimes I tag along." Most of the time he doesn't, because Bucky is with her. Or finds her. That bird seems to have a sixth sense when it comes to locating Adia in the Nexus.

"I met him during Halloween. And again during the recent language confusion LOL." Harley looks at him. "And you might think that... but I think I scare him."

She can be too bubbly for some people to handle. Harley knows that.

"You don't care for the place?" Harley looks at him.

He raises an eyebrow at her comment, a ghost of a smile on his lips. "Really. I wonder why that is."

A scared Harrowheart. He's going to enjoy that mental image for a while.

"Nah, I like it fine. Pokémon are all right." He takes a sip of his coffee while they walk, the gesture seamless. "I'm not thrilled with some of the punks who hang out nearby, looking to battle."

"Ain't it obvious?" She grins at him.

"Punks? What kind of battle?" This interests her.

Caspar snorts and takes another sip of his coffee. The truth is, Harley has the power to scare him, too, or at least make him incredibly uncomfortable. He appreciates the fact that she's respecting his personal space.

"Ugh. Don't get me started," he complains, as the poké mart comes into view. "They train the pokémon to fight other pokémon. The respectable ones keep it in a gym where there are rules -- it's no worse than wrestling, so far as I can tell, and the pokémon are into it -- but these assholes, they form gangs and taunt people into battle." He shakes his head. "Why can't they be like typical humans and shoot the shit out each other instead? They have to drag their pets into it. It's disgusting."

Fortunately, the only people hanging around outside the mart today are a couple of trainers and a flock of wild pidgeys pecking at some crumbs on the ground. "The terminal's right inside the entrance," he says, holding the door open for her.

"You can train your pokemon to fight?" Harley listens carefully. "What are the advantages over being in a gym setting?"

"Why would they want to fight other people? Do they win money?"

She looks around the PokeMart as they arrive. And smiles at him when he holds the door open.

"They all have special abilities. You train them to fight or at least keep their powers under control." That aspect of pokémon ownership he doesn't seem to have a problem with. Anything that helps the little buggers protect themselves, he's fine with. "The gyms make things safer. And there's less chance of cheating, from what I can gather."

He rolls his eyes. "For honor," he says, like it's the stupidest thing in the world. "To be seen as the best. The gangs probably steal shit, too. I don't know who the bigger idiots are, the ones with skull beanies or the ones with the letter 'R' on their jackets. It's pathetic."

All that disdain, and yet when they step inside the poké mart, it seems like any other pet store. Perhaps a bit more colorful, but there are no signs of nefarious activity. Caspar gestures to the terminal, It looks like a display one might find at an airport, if you wanted to print your boarding pass or check departure times. "Let me know if you want any help."

"And no one has decided to try to put a stop to the gangs?" Harley asked curiously.

She headed to the terminal, checking it out to find out what information was available to her.

"They can't physically make anyone do anything here while the AV field is intact," Caspar replies. "All they do is talk smack and hope someone falls for it. Except the ones with the skull beanies. They rap. Badly."

The terminal has several purposes, but one of the options is a pokédex that lists pokémon by type and region. One can also do a search comparison with other animals to see what comes up. Considering that children use this device, Harley probably won't need Caspar's help.

"Mental violence is still violence. But the AV field still allows that." Harley noted. There are a lot of scary people in her world, who could do a lot with just mental trauma.

"Ya'know... I could be here a while. You don't have to wait around for me." Because she doesn't want him to think he has to.

"Those boneheads don't have the brain cells to cause that kind of trauma," he notes derisively. "Not that I enjoy seeing them at all, mind you. But there's not much to do about it other than ignore them."

While Harley is checking out the terminal, Caspar has found a spot of blank wall to lean against. He looks over when Harley speaks, expecting her to ask a question about the terminal. When she instead offers him a chance to leave, he blinks, then looks down at his cup of coffee.

"I don't mind," he admits quietly. "I have some time to kill." A trainer walks in with a bellosom, the flower pokémon singing a happy little melody, and a faint smile graces his face. "Besides, I like the scenery."

"One could also fight fire with fire. Insults with insults. Bullies back down real quick when they realize they are being challenged."

"Maybe get a Pokémon-related gift for Adia!" She smiles. "She would like that."

A smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. "Harley, I am trying to be a Good Boy. Don't encourage me." He shrugs a shoulder towards the door and adds, "I don't care if they insult me, it's Adia I'm worried about. You know she's too nice to say anything back."

He smiles a little at the idea. "Yeah. She'd like that..." He pushes off the wall, but something seems to have soured his mood before he's even taken a step. "Too bad somebody beat me to the idea first."

"That is why people like you, and like me, should take care of them. So they are not around to bug people like Adia." Harley points out.

Harley looks around to see why Caspar is suddenly soured.

Something dark glints in Caspar's eyes. How nice it would be to fight fire with fire, as Harley so eloquently put it, and not hold his tongue as usual. "Tell you what," he says, "If either of us catch them making trouble, we let the other one know. And then we can handle the situation together."

His gaze is on a row of decorative keychains, which doesn't seem to warrant such a frown. Realizing that Harley is reacting to his words, he schools his expression back into something more neutral. "A friend of Adia's already took her here and bought her something. Which is fine, except I have the distinct feeling that this 'friend' of hers would like me out of the picture."

Harley turns to face him completely. The terminal forgotten now that something much more important is being discussed.

"Is the same friend I saw speaking to you both during Christmas?"

"The one who threw his Christmas gift into the fire?"

"The guy who gave me the creeps so much, that I followed him home?"

Then something nudges at Harley. And she points at the terminal. "He had a Pokémon. Help me find it!"