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[Good, good, that works out! Perfect!

Well, sort of. Ingo glances up, makes eye contact with the Pokemon, and flushes slightly before turning back to his journal.

Luckily, he manages to locate a relevant passage rather quickly! It's long enough to be found rather easily! He's written down both his personal observations about the Pokemon - Silvally - itself, as well as rather a lot of back-and-forth commentary on his own feelings about potentially asking to see one of his own Pokemon again. That part isn't important. He reads through the rest.]

Is it? Yes, I suppose! Has she always been able to grow large enough to ride?

[He's pretty sure that came out of nowhere for him even if his memory wasn't full of holes right now.]

[Silvally could draw Gladion's attention to Ingo's behavior outright. But it's tired, and he's tired, and it's stressed about it but doesn't want to put another thing on him.

So it doesn't look away from Ingo. Just...keeps squinting.

Gladion takes a while to answer (something strange about the way that got said. or is there? maybe he's mixing it up), and when he does, he sounds like he's trying not to sound like he's falling asleep.]

Fog form, probably.

[Silvally sighs and starts nudging at his feet with a claw, until he makes a move to pull his legs up onto the couch and perhaps lie down. Surely he won't fall completely asleep if he's just on the couch....this is fine......]

Ah.

[Ingo says as if he totally knows what that is! He does not! Really, as accustomed as he is to memory problems, it feels a little strange to hide them...but this time, he knows it's only a passing thing. No reason to worry Gladion.]

Well. Take a rest, for now. You must be exhausted! And Silvally seems worried! [SEE HE TOTALLY KNOWS WHO THAT POKEMON IS]

[A few seconds of silence.]

...Got to clean it up before I go to.

[aaaand he's out.

Silvally pulls away very cautiously, glancing back down at Gladion as if to be sure he's not going to jolt awake again.

And watches him a little longer, seeming to be thinking about things.

Then it lifts its head again, towards Ingo. It doesn't stand up just yet, still sitting on its haunches against the couch, and it doesn't make any sound (that would wake Gladion up). Its throat moves a little, though, as if to let out a few soft chirps, and the feathers on the back of its neck flutter uneasily.]

[Ingo's still reading, but with half an eye on Silvally. It's only polite, after all - even if Gladion's asleep, he isn't here alone! A Pokemon's presence is different from an animal's. No amount of memory loss could make him lose that knowledge. The movement draws his attention, and he meets Silvally's gaze for a moment.]

...I am alright. Don't worry about me.

[He's trying to keep his voice down as well, though it sort of seems like a conscious strain.]

[Another long few seconds of staring.

Then it stands (slowly, still trying to be quiet) and takes a few steps towards Ingo (splaying its claws before they meet the ground; they click against the ground less sharply, at the cost of making its gait wide and awkward).

Tilts its head. Twice, actually. The angle of the tilt isn't huge, but there's a slightly exaggerated tugging motion to it.]

[Ingo shuts the journal to pay attention properly. The need is less immediate anyway, now that Gladion is asleep. Though, clearly, he hasn't managed to hide the issue from everyone.]

Ah...well, my memory is not quite recovered from the fog. But it's alright. I think I have most of the important things. [Clearly not all, as he apparently forgot about an entire Pokemon that lives here! But he knows who Gladion and Emmet are, what his relationships are to them, and for several days that was all he was trying to pin down.] I suppose you may know this, but I've a history of memory loss, and I think that may have made it worse. It should pass, though. And I kept this record for myself, just in case.

[Well. That's. Not good. But knowing what's wrong chases some of the unease from Silvally's posture; it huffs softly, and the feathers along its neck smooth down.

The nuances of the situation are a little above its level. Memory loss seems to happen with some regularity around here, and mostly it involves people behaving very strangely. Ingo's brand of strangeness is at least...small, and predictable. He's acting a little oddly, but he can still be counted on to be Ingo.

Silvally sits. Then lies down, and with a sigh, stretches out along the ground, staring off at nothing.]

[Ingo sighs in return. He does have the sense that the whole explanation was probably a little much, but he has a long habit of speaking to his own Pokemon like that. He's spent a great deal of time with only them to talk to, and in any case, he is Ingo.]

I'm sure it will only be a few more days. We shall all recover. Emmet as well - I'm sure he is alright, wherever he may be.

[Rrgl, Silvally grumbles, pulling its limbs in again and hunching sulkily, nose to the ground and turned away from Ingo. That's not what it wants to hear. It wants to hear that there's something it can scratch and bite at until Emmet comes back and Ingo's memory is restored and Gladion stops being upset and strange and unpredictable. Surely, humans can come up with something like that?

Now that Gladion is safe, it has time to worry about what he'll do when he wakes up. Like run off without warning again.

Rrgrgl.]

...my apologies.

[Ingo isn't really sure what he said wrong there. Except, perhaps, that it wasn't much of a reassurance. Certainly not when they're all just sort of hanging out at home doing nothing.]

I would go out to search for him again, but it did not go well last time. Not that I am worried about myself! But then someone would have to come after me as well, and it would be making more problems.

[It lifts its head again to squint sullenly at him for as long as he takes to confirm that he's not actually going to do that.

...

And it casts a glance back at Gladion on the couch, almost as sullenly.]

[Ingo follows the glance. Truth be told, he doesn't really know how Gladion ended up in the city in the first place, if indeed he ever had know.]

I'm...sure he will not go again? I would go with him, if he insisted.

[But if Gladion is more insistent on searching for Emmet than Ingo himself, Ingo.......is going to feel very bad!]

[No! Nobody is going anywhere!!! (with a sharp look)

...but that would be better than him going alone again. (with closed eyes, relenting.) And Silvally would probably get to go along from the start, this time.

It stretches its neck out along the ground, chin on the floor. It is facing down the prospect of having to worry about a Gladion it can't do much for; powerless as it feels lately, it at least has known that he will listen to it. But now? And after this is over, what's to say it won't happen again? This must be what he meant, when he said he was afraid of not acting like himself.

If it could stretch out its neck just a little longer, it could bump it against Ingo's leg. It will have to...shuffle a little bit closer...and do that.]

[Ingo's breath catches slightly. He doesn't remember all the time he's spent here, of course, but he knows it's been months. Easily, by far, the longest he's ever gone without the company of Pokemon. That must be why he brought the odd pastry-creature home - he was lonely. People are one thing, and Pokemon are another; the lack of them lingers even without memory.

Shifting forward himself, he reaches down to run a hand over Silvally's neck, if it will allow it.]

[It will allow it.

This isn't the first time Ingo has pet Silvally by any means. It's generally not cuddly with him, or with anyone but Gladion (and, now, the two other children it walked through the Pale Fog with). There's the fact that it never has been indiscriminately cuddly, before; the strange new discrepancy in strengths makes it nervous, too.

But it kind of wants a hug from someone other than Gladion, right at this moment.

So it leans into the petting. And shuffles closer still.]

[The pets gets more vigorous. Ingo's used to large Pokemon; he knows how to give a good scratch! He's not certain of Silvally's usual behavior, but he can read a Pokemon pretty well, and it wasn't at all affectionate towards him when it came in. Which means it probably needs some particular attentions - poor thing, it's just been through that fog too.]

Ah, you must have had quite a time out there, hm?

[A little warbling sigh, like a whine. Yes, it was a miserable time. Miserable, and confusing, and grueling - not physically, but that only made things worse. Because everything seemed on the edge of disaster the whole time, and there was no telling when danger would arrive for real. There would be nothing there, but one of the humans would freeze up as if there were, as if they were being attacked by something intangible...

Silvally shivers and leans its weight into Ingo's lap. It knows it's far too big to hop up and curl up on him in a chair like this, but oh well.]

[Ingo sighs.]

I'm sorry.

[It wasn't his fault, of course. He's just sorry it's happening at all. He shifts to better accommodate Silvally, running his fingers more carefully through the feathers on its neck. He doesn't have any team members with feathers, but he's raised and worked with many different kinds of Pokemon in his day. He has a sense for how to properly help with preening.]

This place...it seems that it is always something here. I may not remember it well, but I have caught up enough to know that. It is not a good place for anyone to be.

[That's the main reason he cited, in his journal, for being hesitant to bring any of his own Pokemon here. Ingo has to agree with his past self. But he wouldn't say such a thing to Silvally itself, and certainly not where there's even a slight chance of Gladion hearing.]

[They're good scratches. It somewhat soothes Silvally's frustration, softens the sudden sharp feeling of being stuck with no way forward. It and Gladion have good friends here. Maybe Ingo can help do something about...whatever this is.

It will just bask in this for a while. Then pull away...and reach up and plant a claw on the back of the chair so that it can stand, looming over Ingo...

and lick his head.

Thank you. Your turn now.]

[Ingo never really seems concerned. He's used to big Pokemon! But the lick does startle a short laugh out of him - he puts a hand over his mouth and shoots a guilty glance over at Gladion. He never can really tell for certain, but that was probably loud!]

Ah - that's alright, thank you. [He doesn't mind licks! He pats Silvally's side companionably.] I often feel the urge to do the same thing to people myself! But it would be quite different coming from me!

[Of course the only person he confesses his more embarrassing manticore instincts to is a Pokemon.]

It makes sense, of course. I am practically a Sneasler, and Lady Sneasler used to do that very often... [He trails off, having made himself sort of sad with the recollection.]

[licks him more.

Is this straightening Ingo's fur up at all? Absolutely not, Silvally does not have the right type of tongue for that. Who cares though. The details aren't important. Ingo's reasons for not licking also aren't important but there's no good way to communicate that so Ingo will just have to figure that out on his own.

A wee bit of beak-combing is a little more effective...and then Silvally will back off, looking less actively miserable. Yeah, that helped.]

[Ingo can just tell that his fur is getting mussed every which way, but it doesn't really matter. The attempt at grooming is strangely soothing to some part of his manticore hindbrain. At home he mostly just endured Lady Sneasler's ministrations; now, some of the tension bleeds out of him, and a loud purr starts to vibrate underneath his breath.

When Silvally's done, he still doesn't quite smile, but does manage a sort of feline slow-blink.]

Thank you. That was quite nice, actually.

[He's still purring. That mostly happens involuntarily! He doesn't really know how to stop!]

[Good. It kind of wants to tuck Ingo under its chin again, with all that funny purring going on. But that would be an awful lot of effort.

...It's just going to settle down here against the chair, then, and lean its neck up against the arm of it. Maybe watch the door. Wait for Gladion to rouse himself long enough to move off the couch into his room. Not refuse any further scritches.

Do a little dozing of its own...]

[Ingo scoots down the couch so he can stretch out horizontally rather than sitting up. Reading time is over; he feels more like relaxing now, in that languid feline way that's no longer quite so familiar to him. Lying on his back isn't the most comfortable position anymore, but the cushions make it tolerable and this is the easiest way to rest his hand on Silvally's neck for some more idle scratching.

It's warm in here. Maybe he'll end up dozing a bit, too...]

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