Trouble In Paradigm | Open
To be perfectly honest, Maribelle didn’t even bother reading his notebook, more alarmed at the fact that flames were quickly spreading on his person, and the brute didn’t even notice. Raising her eyebrows, she looked into his eyes, glancing at his shoulder, seeing if he’d notice.
Noticing his hands shaking, she thought that either he was too nervous to notice, or that he’d noticed, but what playing it cool. Either way, it appeared that he wasn’t as threatening as he’d appeared to her.
Maribelle huffed, and rolled her eyes, pulling a pokeball out of her pocket, and called out her Gorebyss. As the pokemon came out, Maribelle glanced at her, saying “A light hydropump if you please.”
The Gorebyss released a small torrent of water onto Corazon, creating a bit of a hissing noise, and effectively getting rid of the fire. She had feeling that it might not be received well, but part of her assignment was keeping him alive. And as much as her cold demeanor didn’t show it, she was a team player.
“Thank you very much.”
Maribelle called her pokemon back, and shifted her weight onto one foot. This man was just proving to be a danger to himself. She was amazed that he was still alive at this point in his life.
“No wonder they needed a professional healer so badly.”
There were a number of problems with using water to douse the self-inflicted flames lapping at Corazon. Number one, even a bubble beam attack would be enough to throw his balance off and send him groundwards once again, and number two, he was a Devil Fruit user. The fruits themselves and the rules following them weren't native to Han’ei, and it wasn't obvious he had a supernatural ability either. Those ‘rules’ involved water being a dead ringer for the one with the Devil Fruit ability to ragdoll and lose all of their strength.
A light drizzle wouldn’t have done him any harm, but that miniature flash flood was enough to down him. Hard.
Swoobat, not reacting in time, took the harmless blow alongside its trainer, both left lying on the concrete soaked to the bone. The once light and poofy feathers of his oversized coat stuck fast to one another, damp and dripping down into the collecting puddle beneath them. The same went for Swoobat’s mane.
As the water drained off of him, Corazon began to recover, shakily getting up with the help of the nearest building’s wall. So much for his makeup being on point today. The blue spikes beneath his eye lay smeared over his cheek and his lipstick was no better, mostly gone to reveal a glasgow smile scarred over in place of the extended edges.
Wait... Where was his notepad? Had it-- fuck. There it was. He nudged the useless, soaked paper and the running ink, silently cursing. So much for any form of communication outside of his only legitimate one. Swoobat pushed itself up and picked the notebook up in its mouth by the spiral binding, waddling along the ground and hugging its trainer’s leg with both damp wings.
How to communicate... Sign language? She might have known that. It seemed fitting for a nurse or doctor type, but screw it, he was too lightheaded from the hydro pump to do anything about it. The only ‘question’ he asked was pointing to Maribelle and making the motion of writing on his palm to question if she had any paper and then meekly waving for her to follow, he heading back down the street towards the warehouse.
