[o] take a chance, take a chance

on hand - hoothoot + gible egg. Carmella Webbs

Benji arrived at Birch's lab like clockwork, giving the majestic cotton bird he had hitched a ride from to get from Fortree all the way here gentle strokes down her long blue neck, bidding her farewell as he watched her ascend, blending into the clouds she resembled. His coat pocket bore the professor's letter. It was a calling, Benji told himself, even while he tightly gripped the Pokeball in hand. Some part of him wondered if this was something he was making up as he was going along. God forbid that be the case, because he was about to be stuck out here for a while until he could actually get hold of the gym again.

He waited till night began to loom upon them, spending the afternoon mulling around Littleroot. Night was hardly the best of times to travel, but he had little options with the Pokemon he had. They were built for the night, practically nocturnal. Benji was rather, the exact opposite, known for waking up at the crack of dawn to start on a busy day. His Hoothoot materialized, hooting impatiently. He bounced eagerly on Benji's shoulder, completely ignoring the fact that he had a forearm guard. Alright, so his Pokemon wasn't the brightest. That could change. Benji could change that, certainly.

They started their way down Route 101. Benji regarded the scenery with wariness, well aware of the possibility of Pokemon popping out of nowhere when you least expected it. His Hoothoot, still unnamed, swooped between the branches while his cries echoed through the grassy terrain. "Slow down," he grumbled, not too keen on having to chase his Pokemon. He jostled the egg that Birch had left for him to attend to. Day one and he had two things to take care of already. While Benji might have found both fascinating on an academic level, night drew in and he was exhausted already. All he wanted to do was get to the next damn town.

His Hoothoot darted through the shrubbery noisily, quite unlike his species. He burst through the bushes, possibly startling one overly inquisitive Murkrow.

hoothoot + gible egg. Carmella Webbs

He tensed at every slight rustle he heard. Benji Fairfax was not scared, please. He'd spent a fair number of years living in the treetops, where the Nincada sang through the tropical nights and kept him awake until the wee hours of the morning. The pressing issue at hand was figuring out where the hell his damn Hoothoot had wandered off to. Benji was starting to wonder if he should have chosen a tamer species, like a Swablu or something. They were less unpredictable.

Besides, it was dark. Having to see in this was asking the impossible of him. The thin man with a slight build walked carefully, making sure to watch where he tread lest he got spooked by something.

Meanwhile, his Hoothoot continued to chirp happily, pleased to have made himself a new acquaintance of sorts. He was noisily flapping his wings and being the complete opposite of a silent predator, hopping constantly on one foot. Benji could hear him from a mile away. "There you are," he grumbled, tucking his egg under his arm while he marched up to his Hoothoot. The Pokemon glanced up with wide, saucer-sized eyes and jumped towards him. Benji made sure that he landed on his arm guard, like he should have from the start.

He gave Carmella a look over, realising that his Hoothoot had been a nuisance. He couldn't bring himself to be surprised, really. "Apologies. He's new to this and excited to be out at night." The bird at her foot... Benji was drawn to it like a moth to a flame. "That's a fine specimen of Murkrow you have there."

hoothoot + gible egg. Carmella Webbs

Benji maintained an intense gaze on the Murkrow. He couldn't help it. Flying types fascinated him the same way they did back when he was younger. Working with them for all these years had always made him feel happy. "They're usually a lot more mellow," he remarked, not expecting Carmella to understand that. He guessed that temperaments between the same species were liable to their variations, but he had always hoped that he could have gotten a more placid and calm Pokemon that reflected his own personality. Keeping up with Hoothoot's excitable nature was proving to be tiring.

His Hoothoot didn't seem keen on repenting despite Carmella's words. He gave another hoot and simply preened his feathers, cooing occasionally while Benji arranged his feathers for him. The bird was evidently poor at maintaining his own appearance. There was this nagging sensation at the back of his mind, cautioning him that this might just all go to hell.

The male narrowed his eyes at the Hoothoot. What an unapologetic birdbrain. "He's sorry for spooking your Murkrow," he said on his behalf. The Pokemon was distracted by the rustling leaves. "We are. He was sleeping through the day,, but now he's absolutely restless." Hoothoot flapped his wings again, as to reassert his presence amongst the small travelling group. Nice, huh? Benji showed no visible change in expression, although he supposed he was pleasantly surprised by that way of putting things. "Benji Fairfax." Maybe she recognised him from a zine or something. "Pleasure."

hoothoot + gible egg. Carmella Webbs

"I worked with Flying-types previously," Benji explained with practised ease, like when he had to show guests around the Fortree Gym. Mellow probably hadn't been the best word to describe them, but cunning and sneaky carried negative connotations he didn't want to imply. The Murkrow that dwelled on  his window at night had been befriended enough to leave him whatever odd trinkets they found at the night. It was heartening, he guessed, that they placed enough faith in him to offer him gifts ranging from a ring they stole from someone's nightstand or a dead Rattata.

Formal was alright, even if he hadn't been intending for it. Benji carefully lowered the Hoothoot down, seeing as his arm guard was on his right... He raised his brow at her confidence, but did not raise an objection to it. Coordinators, after all, needed that sort of confidence for the stage. Commendable, Benji decided. 

Hoothoot cooed as Carmella petted him, very much enjoying the treatment. Benji thought it'd spoil him, but with some strict training... he could be a decent Pokemon, or so the breeder figured. "It's quite alright." To her other question, he narrowed his eyes, musing about the possibility. "I am local to Hoenn, yes... You said you were a coordinator, hmm... It might have been an issue of a digest, maybe. They called me in for a shoot. For a spread." Benji remembered bright, bright colours and a ton of glitter. Coordinators. He would have scoffed if it hadn't been rude to.

hoothoot + gible egg. Carmella Webbs

"Fortree City," he explained. The iconic, bustling metropolis retaining more traditional and backwards lifestyles by living in treehouses. Benji thought he might have abhorred it, but it was surprisingly quaint and it kept the Flying-types close. While he carried that same impassive look on his face, he was significantly more chipper than before already. Perhaps the shared love for flying-types had awoken the inner geek in him. "I've been apprenticing with the gym leader for a few years. The Flying-types aren't mine, some are wild, but we handle them as and when they come into the gym. The city's a magnet for them, what with all the trees."

Was he always this much of a chatterbox? Benji was always more quiet, more sullen sort. All this talk about Flying-types was making him a lot more enthusiastic about socialising. He wasn't expecting his other career to yield that sort of response, though. Benji wasn't unused to reactions like that - travelling to Lilycove was always a god damn nightmare when he got stopped on the streets by fangirls. "Sounds about right." He didn't know about the whole goo-goo eyes thing, that sounded downright disturbing, but as far as he knew, there wasn't another model in town called Fairfax.

"Thanks for the compliment, I guess," he shrugged it off, trying to play it coolly. What the hell did you even say when someone told you that you were good looking without sounding like a complete twat? "It's an old career... thing," he waved off with a dismissive hand, "I still do it, but I'm just busier with research. Like this sort of stuff now." He gestured to the Hoothoot on his arm, who fluffed his feathers up and made a mess of his grooming. Benji sighed.

What did he have to prove that he wasn't lying? He hoped he didn't have to do some silly secret model pose to prove his point. "I have no incentive to lie. You could send your sister a picture. To check, or whatever." He had remembered to get a thin layer of foundation on, thank god. The faster the shock set in and everyone was acquainted, the better.

hoothoot + gible egg. Carmella Webbs

Benji wasn't a stranger to flattery, but he was also painfully awkward with dealing with it. Most he could just shrug off, but now, Carmella was laying it on thick. He didn't know what to say in response, but it was normal for him to speak very little anyway. "I am," he reassured, to Mel and to himself, "I'm just furthering it, since the professor extended the invitation." It was a good opportunity for him to get moving out there and further this career.

It wasn't like modelling didn't pay. Hoenn had received a huge boost of tourism and the scene was heating up rather well. If anything, the boom of Super Contests now was perfect for the fashion industry - wonderful, even. But Benji found an odd calling with researching on these avian like creatures. Heart throb through - he wouldn't call himself that. He didn't really want to think about what teen girls thought of him as they flipped through their magazines with his full page spreads, and now that Carmella had brought it up, it continued to nag at the back of his mind, annoyingly so.

At least she had saved it, and seemed understanding about it. Modelling was nice, but not really the sort of career he envisioned himself with in the long run. Besides, once you grew a creased wrinkle on your face, you were practically worthless in the industry. Research was for life. "...Thanks," he replied, feeling awkward about the exchange again. It was such a one sided thing, and Benji couldn't think of anything nice to say. "You look the coordinator part as well." He gestured vaguely to all of Carmella, not very sure where to point to, specifically. Maybe the hair. Bubblegum pink screamed for attention.

He was perfectly alright with having his picture taken. You got used to the camera snapping at you after years of doing it. "Uh, yeah," he muttered, shuffling out of the bushes some. His smile for candid pictures was a typical crooked one with the left corner of his lip tugged upwards in a smile. It wasn't going to work though. Not in this light. Benji kept his eyes narrowed at the phone and the route ahead. "How about this. We get to Oldale as quick as we can, and we can get that picture in the Pokemon Center there." It was honestly a lot better than trying to take a selfie here. People might think they were stupid for doing so at night.

hoothoot + gible egg. Carmella Webbs

He was stuck travelling with her. Not that Benji thought of it as a bad thing - he didn't really know what to feel about it. Company was not something he particularly enjoyed, only in the rare occasion that it was company tangled in the sheets. This sort of travel companionship was nice, though. The trees didn't feel as looming and the walk seemed shorter when you had conversation to pass the time with. Unfortunately, conversation was also not one of Benji's strong suits. He could hold one where both parties were amiable and they finished each topic with simpered, restrained laughter, and silence hung between them for a moment.

At least Carmella was slightly better at it than he was. His Hoothoot had become oddly silent, probably having exhausted from the energy he had expended earlier from jumping and flying around hooting non-stop. It was eerie and strange to have his Hoothoot so quiet. Benji watched the sky wordlessly as it got darker and darker. "We should be fine. Oldale's not particularly far a walk." If he squinted, he could just barely make out the streetlamps that dotted the small town up ahead.

"The only thing I've gotten attacked by is the paparazzi," Benji scoffed, adjusting the collar of his shirt. He was dressed in mostly black, making it hard to see him if not for his starkly pale skin. "And even then, they won't be hiding in these bushes." He took a look over at them, half wondering if they were, in fact, hiding among the shrubbery waiting to pounce on him. "It'll be fine," he insisted, "That's what the Pokemon are for, anyway."