TeamNeuchet

“Ah man… This room is falling apart worse than the last one we came through. I don’t like this.” The Blastoise said, eyeing the crumbling stone walls, sandy currents shifting and swirling about several feet below the stone platform beneath his feet. “Well, all we have to do is tread lightly and we won’t have to climb back up to this floor, right?” Zavander chimed in with a cheeky grin on his face, riding piggyback on the Blastoise’s shell, drumming his digits on the top of his head. “I told you before, it is not my fault I’m 230 pounds okay? That’s just how I’m built. And

"Zavander, I got some mail for you." Jelrin announced, walking into the room holding a sealed envelope in his hands. He flipped it over, examining it for a moment. The Grovyle sat before his Pastel and Mortar, grinding away at some berries, back turned to the fire type. “Alright cool, you can just throw it on my desk.” "It doesn’t say who it’s from though… It just has this black seal on it that looks like an orchid." Zavander sat up straight, looking over his shoulder for a moment before quickly getting to his feet, snatching the envelope from Jelrin’s hands in an instant.

The Grovyle silently watched as the Quilava went through his usual battery of morning stretches. He observed as he bent over, pressing his belly chest against his legs as he wrapped his arms around his legs. "How the hell can you do that so easily?" Zavander asked curiously, watching as the Quilava stood up straight, then leaned back to form a bridge. "Do what?" Jelrin asked, straining slightly as he told the bridge pose for several seconds, before rolling off to the side. "You're really damn limber. You could curl up into a ball if you wanted." "I can, actually." Jelrin sat himself down, tucking in his legs and wrapping his arms around them,

“So, care to explain to me why we’re sitting on a rooftop?” Jelrin asked, laying on his back, his gaze directed at the cloudless sky about him. The Sun casting an orange glow across the sky as it slowly retreated into the horizon. Zavander stood on the lip of the roof, his hands on his hips as he gazed over the city sprawled out before him. “You’re always cooped up in the Dorms come nightfall. I thought you’d like some fresh air, is all. Besides, you’re the one laying down.” The Quilava scoffed, using his arms to push himself into a seated position, then standing up with a grunt. He rolled his e

"You know what was crazy about today?" Jelrin looked over his shoulder, staring back at the Grovyle as he leaned out the window. "What?" "I saw some cart races going on in the alleyways around the city. Was crazy stuff man. We should have been in on that." "Look, I'm not going to haul you around in a cart, that's stupid." Zavander laughed, flicking a Berry stem into the small pile he had beside him. "Yeah, not like you're a fast runner anyway..." "Ha ha... very funny..."

Zavander strolled up the side of St. Core Hospital, same as he always does, stepping to the right to avoid the windows on the second floor before stopping at the window to the third. The window to Jelrin’s room was open, like always despite the constant protests from Ryan about Zavander crawling in and not going through the front desk. Although it looked like Ryan didn’t mind it all that much since Jelrin’s window is always open. "Hey man, how you feeling?" the Treecko asked casually, ducking in through the window and dropped to the floor. "Like battered shit." The Quilava groaned, smiling a bit as the Treecko walked over an

"Hey, Jelrin. Want anything from the Market? I’m going to be passing through there, so I thought I’d grab us a bite to eat." Zavander asked, fixing his sash before opening the window to their dorm in the Explorer’s Guild. "You know, we do have a door you could use, to you know. Go outside with.” Jelrin commented, laying on his bunk, staring up at the ceiling. The visage of the Grovyle bled into his vision, prompting the Quilava to stare at him for a moment. "So, you want some berries from Ms. Gouldin. Got it." Zavander replied, gently pressing down on the Quilava’s nose with a digit. Jelrin simply

Zavander heaved, hunched over near a bush as Jelrin pat him gently on the back. "Oh god… Hurk- Too much cake. Too much cak-" He choked, before vomiting yet again. "Come on… Get it all out of your system. I warned you. You were eating too much. But no "It’s my birthday, I can do what I want." Now look at you." Jelrin commented, stroking the Grovyle’s back before patting him again. "Happy birthday, Zavander."