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WELCOME TO PROCELLA PRAIRIE
LOCAL INFORMATION
Local Pokémon: Skarmory Voltorb Electrike Emolga Rhyhorn
Dangerous and completely unused to human interaction, the Pokémon within the encampments of Procella Prairie hunt in packs, attacking campers for food and sport. Residents are advised not to engage, and many a tent has been abandoned because of the frequent rampages. Indeed, herds of Rhyhorn originally introduced to draw the ever-present lightning away have instead become the area's worst pest problem, drawing massive thunderclouds with their groups as they travel. Procella's official bird is Skarmory.
Burdened by nigh-constant thunder and rain, what could otherwise be a quite nice retreat from the harsh wilderness that spans the islands isn't suitable for most anything to live, much less a proper settlement. Electric-, Steel- and Flying-type Pokémon are abundant to almost absurd quantities due to a total lack of natural predators, making this a hotspot for trainers and researchers alike. Clusters of tents dot the landscape erratically, the only sign of the small groups of settlers who've decided to brave the weather, all of whom are much too scattered and fluid to ever form a true cultural background.
CURRENT EVENTS:
No current events...

 
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>  River's A-Runnin', Interaction w/ Iarla
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 Elijah Messere posted at Feb 3 2018, 05:31 AM
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It wasn't exactly a secret that Elijah was...well, a bit of a mess and a thrill seeker. In the short time he had been with the Procella Rangers, he had proven himself an undoubtedly hard worker...when on the clock, anyway. Any other time he was just a man who enjoyed fast riding and alcohol, and even better was combining the two.

He wasn't too drunk, all things considered: in part, it was because the day was young, and also partly because he was running low, but that would have to wait. It was one of his days off, which meant he was riding, and while it was the best time for him to search for something to drink, he just wasn't in the mood.

Back and forth he and Whiskey River thundered, passing in front of the ranger station repeatedly. The mudsdale was not one of the light-footed running pokemon you might find in a rapidash or zebstrika; he was thick, muscled, powerful. Maybe his strength and abilities were more suited to pulling or pushing than running, but he and Elijah both loved the thrill of going fast.

It wasn't until Whiskey River's sides were heaving under Elijah that the ranger thought they should take a break, and just as he gave the reins a gentle tug, the pokemon's hooves passed over a particularly icy patch of mud. The mudsdale let out a shrieking sort of sound at the surprise, scrambling to keep his footing. He caught himself on the edge of the icy mud and slowed to a trot, but Elijah was not so lucky. He lost his seat almost too easily and hit the ground with a thud, dimly aware that they were in full view of the station.

Closing his eyes and groaning, it was all he could do not to shove Whiskey's face away when the mudsdale came back to snuffle at him curiously.

@Iarla Wogan
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 Iarla Wogan posted at Feb 13 2018, 08:34 AM
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Iarla rarely hung around the station for longer than he needed to refill his supplies and drop off those he just bought. So he got back just in time to see Elijah hit the deck and sighed, feeling like he’s already seen this too many times.

He abandoned heading up stairs, wary of leaving the man to a head wound. Bridget followed closely, running ahead of Iarla to sniff at Elijah’s face too. “The hell did you do, lad?” Iarla sighed, and then yawned, tears leaking out of the corners of his eyes. He was supposed to be back so he could rest.

Standing directly over his head, he glanced down and tried to gauge if the other man was really hurt or possibly just concussed. “How much have you had to drink already? It’s barely passed noon.”

Cautiously he stepped around and almost slid himself on the patch of ice, arm pinwheeling for a moment. “Oi, well, I guess it ain’t entirely your fault,” he said mildly as if he didn’t quite believe it, but was willing to let it go. “You seeing double, lad?” Iarla held out a few fingers, wiggling them around.

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 Elijah Messere posted at Feb 14 2018, 02:35 AM
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Puffing out the quietest laugh and still trying to catch his breath, Elijah closed his eyes. For a brief second, he tried to pretend Iarla was not there and had not seen his fall, but he knew everyone at the station had seen him spill from the saddle plenty. It was hard to be embarrassed when you did this kind frequently, especially with a little bit of drink dampening your mind.

Instead, he lifted a hand to try to shove Whiskey River away, only to find that Bridget was there as well. He waved a hand and pushed himself up into a sitting position, the mudsdale snorting his amusement as he stepped back to greet Iarla by licking at his head. Elijah groaned, putting a hand to his own chest. "It never gets easier."

He squinted up at the other ranger, a half-smirk spreading across his lips. "Could get used to this." He was already used to it. "I'm not drunk, though. Believe it or not." Well, he was only a little drunk, as opposed to his normal shit-faced riding. Later on it might be a different story, but he knew full well Whiskey needed a chance to rest first. The mudsdale had stamina to spare, but it was not endless, and the slick ice was risky for them both.

"I'm fine," the grounded ranger laughed, waving a hand. He pushed to his feet, slipping just a little on the ice, and then toddled to a less slick patch of ground. "Whiskey, you okay? Ah, you're fine, you're fine." He waved a hand at the pokemon, who skirted the ice delicately and shoved his nose against his rider. "Get off me, brute. I hate this time of year. Give me green grass and solid ground any day."

Not that Elijah would learn his lesson about riding on ice, of course. He was too stubborn for that, and Whiskey enjoyed the thrill of speed as much as his trainer did. "Get off there before you hit the ground, Iarla, it's slick!" Duh.

@[Iarlah Wogan]
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 Iarla Wogan posted at Feb 14 2018, 03:18 AM
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“Really?” He wasn’t drunk yet? That seemed unusual. “Huh, are you sure you’re ok? Now I’m worried you’ve something else wrong with ye.” His hair was now doing interesting things with mudsdale spit holding it up, but Iarla merely patted the giant animal on the neck and carefully slid his way to the squishy, muddier ground.

“Aye, I can’t wait til winter’s over myself. That eruption did us no favors.” He readjusted his pack, starting to turn to head back towards the station with a glance over his shoulder. “I’ve found the ice already, with my legs. Now, come on. I want to give your head a quick look, make sure you’re not concussed.”

Bridget pawed at Elijah’s legs and boots, hooking a claw in here or there. Eventually, her teeth latched on and she tried to drag him towards the station steps.

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 Elijah Messere posted at Feb 19 2018, 06:33 AM
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"I'm fine," Elijah laughed, trying to smooth his mussed hair. It was plastered with bits of frozen mud, but he still tried patting it into place. He followed Iarla as he did, reaching out to pat Whiskey's neck as the mudsdale fell into step next to him. As much as he wanted to climb back into the saddle and ride off because he felt fine except a little winded, he knew he'd best just play it safe.

Bridget, of course, was totally the reason he was heading towards the station steps, and he let out a relieved sigh when they reached them. "Boy, Bridget, I never would have made it all the way over here without your help! Thanks for that!" He reached down to try to pat her, not caring if his hand got clawed or bit. It was all part of the danger. Whiskey stood at the base of the steps and watched as Elijah wobbled up them, snorting his concern.

The ranger waved a hand lazily, not looking back. He knew if he looked back he would want to go right back down those stairs to his pokemon-slash-best-friend, and then he would probably get Looks and Words from Iarla, and even if he didn't have a headache or a concussion he thought that might make him wish he did. "I'm fine! I've taken worse. I'll see you in a bit and we'll run some more. Iarla, tell Whiskey I'll be able to ride some more, before he cries."

@Iarla Wogan

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 Iarla Wogan posted at Feb 19 2018, 09:13 AM
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Bridget responded to the teasing with a playful growl, attacking the presented hand and clinging to it without too much use of her claws. She attempted to ride him all the way up to the station, teeth digging into fingers.

Iarla rolled his eyes, but he was already a few steps ahead of Elijah, so it lost some of the effect. “Yes, yes, you can go running later. Once I’ve made sure you’re nae slowly dying of a brain hemorrhage.” Thank Celebi the Mudsdale couldn’t join them up the stairs.

Up to the top and inside the building, Iarla shuffled over to his office. He didn’t shuck off anything until they were settled in and then he dropped his heavy pack on the floor and peeled out of his coat. “I’ll be quick, though I’d prefer if you dinnae immediately go off and start riding again.” Eventually his face was going to freeze into that quietly disapproving look.

He had the tiniest of medical cots set up and gestured towards it, pulling on gloves mainly out of habit even though he wasn’t going to be doing anything that really needed them. “Did you mainly stick to the prairie while I was gone? I don’t know who’s covering what routes anymore.”

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 Elijah Messere posted at Feb 25 2018, 01:02 AM
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Elijah was not one to shake off a pokemon as cute as Bridget, and even though he wobbled a little going up the steps of the tower, he made sure she didn't go flying or falling anywhere. That would just be a sad thing; he could throw himself around all day, hit the ground a hundred times, but the moment a pokemon got hurt he was done. Especially if that pokemon was Whiskey River, but even if it wasn't. They mattered more than his pretty head.

Whiskey River still did not like that Elijah was leaving, stomping a hoof and snorting at Iarla's words as he watched them go. The ranger only smiled easily, following the other to his office and taking a seat on the medical cot. "Come on, I'm sure I'm fine. And if I'm not, it's my day off, so I have time to sleep it off." He spoke with the confident ease of someone who had knocked their head a few too many times, which was probably not something to be proud of.

The cot was more comfortable than Elijah had anticipated, however, and he slumped a little. He'd been drinking, obviously, just not much; it was enough to make him a little sleepy, which had nothing to do with the fall he'd taken. There was a bump on his head, but that was it. He was lucky that it wasn't worse than it was. "Oh, I've just been around the station today. Some of the ground further out is too slick to risk Whiskey on, and you know how fussy he gets if we don't run at least a little. I didn't want him chewing stuff up, so we were just going back and forth."

He tilted his head back, flashing Iarla a sly smile. "Be gentle, doc. You know I like my hair played with." Definitely a little drunk.

@Iarla Wogan

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 Iarla Wogan posted at Feb 26 2018, 03:50 AM
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“Talk like that will get ye put down for more than a short nap,” he returned with a smile that was just as sly, as if he wasn’t implying a tranquilizer instead of flirting. He used his foot to drag over a rolling stool, making little thumps as it passed over the individual bumps of the metal flooring. Bridget dropped down, sliding under the cot so she could attack Elijah's shoelaces freely.

Iarla dropped into the stool, grabbing at Elijah’s chin with one hand and flicking on a penlight with the other, making sure to suitably blind him while he was at it. “Not the best way to be wastin’ yer day off, is it?” Pupils reacted fine, so he started parting hair this way and that, maneuvering Elijah’s head as he needed it and feeling around. His actions were not consciously gentle or rough, just purposeful.

At least until he got to the slight bump and pressed in. “Well that’s a nasty one.” Confirming that it was, at least visibly, just a bump on the head he began stripping off his gloves. “You should really consider a visit with a chiropractor. I know there’s a few in Uberrime, might be one is Caecus. All these falls ain’t daein’ yer spine any favors.”

He reached back to his desk, swiping a small bottle off of it and tossing it with a rattle towards Elijah. "Donae take too many, but I suppose you're free to go have another crack at yer skull."

@Elijah Messere

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 Elijah Messere posted at Feb 26 2018, 09:44 AM
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Elijah laughed, though it was more of an amused rumbling purr kind of sound. The kind of sound you definitely don't make to a coworker unless you're drunk and out of your mind. He spread his hands as if in defense of himself and shrugged, smiling. "Hard habit to break, you know. Man's gotta try." A man really didn't 'gotta' try, but try telling Elijah that.

He didn't resist--or even make a further ass of himself--as Iarla took his chin in hand, and even continued to behave when the other ranger started looking at his head. "You know it won't stop me from getting right back in that saddle. Maybe not immediately, but soon." It wasn't a secret that he loved to ride as much as possible and as fast as possible, nor that he had taken plenty of spills during his time as a trainer. Why let something like a fall spook him from something he loved so much?

Wincing at the touching, he pulled back, putting a hand to his head. That, naturally, did not help; he flinched again and drew his hand away, checking for blood. Fortunately there was none, but he knew that ice had been a close call. It was almost sobering. "Ah, that's not so bad. Should've seen the split I got before I came out here. Bled so much I thought I'd died." He dropped his hands onto his lap and looked at Iarla blankly for a moment.

"Oh." Elijah had never considered the impact riding and falling might have on his back. He frowned a little, catching the bottle. "I don't need these, Iarla. One drug's enough." Was alcohol a drug? Close enough if it wasn't. He wasn't dumb enough to mix the two, anyway. "You really think I'm messing my back up? I mean, sometimes it hurts, but I thought that was just the job. Hauling packs."

@Iarla Wogan

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 Iarla Wogan posted at Feb 26 2018, 10:06 AM
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“Ye donnae have to try anythin’, ye crazy bugger. Though perhaps flirtin’ with the other medics might get ye somethin’ more pleasant than a needle in yer arse.” Iarla was tired, ready to steal that cot for himself and take a nice long nap but he wasn’t going to do it until Elijah was gone.

He breathed slowly through his nose, eyes slipping shut as he resisted the urge to scream at past incidents. “Head wounds bleed… a lot,” he finally choked out, leaning one elbow onto his knee and cradling his head.

And then his eyes shot back open. “What do ye mean, ‘one drug’s enough’? I thought ye said ye were nae drinkin’?” Now it was both elbows and both hands on his head, rubbing quietly at his temples. “Yer spine and yer liver, they’ll both be shot. Impacts like that are going to screw up yer back. Push yer spine about until yer pinching nerves and seizing up in pain.”

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 Elijah Messere posted at Mar 4 2018, 06:37 AM
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"Maybe I'm into it," Elijah laughed under his breath, cradling his head in his hands. Okay, so it did hurt. It had been a hell of a fall, and he was lucky he didn't have a concussion to show for it. He'd been lucky like that countless times in his life--luckier still that Whiskey River had remained unharmed, thank all the Gods. The ranger was perfectly fine with putting himself at risk, but his pokemon's well-being was far too important. He didn't even want to consider the mudsdale getting hurt.

"I said I wasn't drunk," he lifted his head to blink at Iarla, surprised. "Not that I hadn't been drinking. Who do you think I am?" He considered the bottle, shaking his head. "And this isn't going to help my liver if I do have problems." He was guessing. He didnt know much of anything about medical stuff, but it sounded right. Livers did...something important, right?

"I appreciate that you care," he teased the other ranger with a cocky grin, "but you don't need to sweat over me. I'll be alright. Maybe I'll be an old man one day with a bad back, but we only have one life, Iarla. Why shouldn't I spend it doing what Whiskey and I love? You know that stubborn mule wouldn't run if he didn't want to."

@Iarla Wogan

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 Iarla Wogan posted at Mar 5 2018, 11:23 PM
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“Aye, so you're into needles? Because I've quite a few all ready for ye.” He did, actually, have several pre loaded tranquilizers that were just under the average dose for a medium sized adult. And he was more than ready to use them.

A two pronged assault, Bridget snagged her teeth on Elijah’s pant leg while Iarla snatched the pill bottle away, not bothering to confirm that liver damage was a concern. There were too many other stupid statements to rip apart. “See, there’s a huge problem wit’ yer statement. Namely that ye'll live long enough for ‘old’ to even be a word to describe ye,” he snapped, though it was quiet. His accent a little thicker in frustration. This is why you never wanted a cranky medic. His bed manners were terrible on a good day, nonexistent on a bad one. He stood up to put the pills away and began taking apart his bag, revealing the pair of eggs nestled inside. “Nae, instead ye'll be dead, or worse, paralyzed. Quadriplegic. Stuck sittin’ in yer bed while someone else runs Whiskey about.”

And then for the extra helping of guilt to layer on top of the scares. He reached down to flick on a small space heater so he could remove the sweater and extra shirt he'd been wearing, preferring to sweat from over dressing than freeze. He tried going for nonchalant with a shrug of his shoulder.“Course there's the other option, leavin’ yer poor ‘mon behind with th’guilt that he flattened ye. Thas the kind of life yer YOLO shite gets.”

He was feeling jittery just from having the conversation. Iarla took a deep breath, calming himself down from all the dramatic speaking he was sure was going to be ignored anyway. “At least give yerself an hour nap for my sake?”

@Elijah Messere

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 Elijah Messere posted at Mar 11 2018, 09:42 AM
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"No, I was--it was a joke," Elijah shrugged lightly, looking up at Iarla as the other ranger started his little tirade. It wouldn't be the first, second, or last time Elijah would hear it, he knew that much. Maybe one day he would take it seriously, but life was short. Why not live it how he and Whiskey wanted to? "Maybe I don't want to be old?" The statement was barely more than a breath, hidden behind hands scrubbing at the rider's face.

The idea of someone else riding Whiskey hit closer to home, however, and Elijah looked up at Iarla with a genuinely serious look on his face. It wasn't often he managed to be serious when he wasn't working, but when it came to the mudsdale? Nothing was more important. He didn't like the idea of someone riding Whiskey, or training him, or anything like that. He was possessive of his pokemon, and he wasn't particularly ashamed about that.

He rubbed his palms on his knees uncertainly, gaze dropping away when Iarla mentioned being flattened. The guilt trip was certainly working--he hoped Iarla was proud of himself, because it was obvious what he was doing here. Elijah could only frown at himself, folding his hands together. "...He loves to run as much as I love to ride, Iarla. Half the time he's the one who initiates it. Sometimes he gets away from me. I won't say I'm innocent. We all know I'm not."

Sitting back, Elijah sighed. "What if I just sit here instead of napping? At least for a few minutes. ...I know you're right, Iarla. I'm doing stupid shit." He couldn't help but shrug a little. "I'm enjoying my life, but maybe I need to go about it in a safer way. Maybe Whiskey needs some training so he'll listen to me."

@Iarla Wogan

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 Iarla Wogan posted at Mar 13 2018, 05:13 AM
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He didn’t do much more than glare at the ‘maybe I don’t want to be old?’ statement. Iarla never like the idea of dying early as some way to avoid the terrible premise of age. It wasn’t the enemy.

“Aye, trainin’ would be your best bet.” Bridget might not have been the perfect companion at all times and her weird vendetta against women tended to be inappropriate at best and dangerous at its worse. “Instead of giving in at his whims, set a time for running for play. You’re not supposed to be letting your partner push you around.”

Iarla, however, was allowed to push as much as he liked. He had the power of denying pain medication.

“So just take a few minutes, finish a cup of coffee, and don’t be jumping back on board the saddle today. Your head needs a break from you trying to break it.” He left his office long enough to get a pot of coffee brewing. He didn’t used to drink it much as all until he came to the prairie and now it was some sort of god send.

Meanwhile, Bridget kept Elijah company, claws sinking just far enough into his pant legs so she could bring herself up onto his knee and get properly worshipped like all cats deserved. She even purred for him.

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 Elijah Messere posted at Mar 18 2018, 11:53 PM
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Iarla might not have liked the idea of dying young just to avoid age, but Elijah could not stand the thought of being old. Growing to an age where everything on you hurt and you could barely move, an age where someone else had to spoon feed you and wipe your ass... He could not imagine being so inefficient at caring for himself. Sure, he wasn't doing a great job now, but at least he had the mobility to take care of himself poorly on purpose. As an old man, it would just be a sad, slow life waiting for death to put him out of his misery.

Depressing thoughts that Elijah kept far from the front of his mind. He was not drunk enough for that.

He nodded slowly at Iarla's words instead, rubbing his hands together. "Specified play times. I think I can do that." Limiting their running would be hard on the both of them, truthfully, and Elijah didn't think he could strictly keep to it. It wasn't that Whiskey pushed him around like Iarla said, it was that they both loved the thrill of it so much. That was part of what he loved so much about his steed.

Wrinkling his nose at the mention of coffee, the ranger sat back slightly, rubbing his hands on his knees. He took the chance while Iarla was out of the room to look around, taking a flask from an inside pocket for a quick swig. He was so, so low, but maybe right now it was a good thing. Iarla probably would not approve of him drinking after a knock on the head like that; he tucked it away, but didn't bother to make sure the other ranger hadn't seen.

With Bridget on his lap, he devoted some time to petting her like she deserved, smiling a little. He loved all pokemon of course, and cat pokemon were great, he was just partial to those he could ride. Still, he wasn't about to ignore her, scratching behind her ears gently. He could tell already Whiskey, waiting below at the base of the station, would be all kinds of huffy when he smelled the litleo on his rider. "Why isn't your trainer as sweet as you, hm?"

@Iarla Wogan

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 Iarla Wogan posted at Mar 20 2018, 06:03 AM
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Iarla might not have been there to see it, but Bridget tried to give Elijah the stink eye for his drinking. Unfortunately, she was really too cute for it to ever be effective. Plus he was petting her so it was very hard to concentrate. As he asked the question, she twisted her head to grab his hand between her teeth with a little growl as if to prove she wasn’t sweet.

“Oh good, you’re also pissing off Bridget, well done lad.”
He came back with his mug filled, sniffing at it lazily. “I’d make small talk, but I’m honestly just too tired.” Iarla dropped down into a less mobile chair than the little stools, but it at least had a back to it. “What’d you do, tell her you had a girlfriend? She’s a jealous little minx.”

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