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[Ingo's the one who arrived home first. He regrets this terribly!

But as worried as he is about Emmet and Gladion, Ingo has to accept that going back into the city won't help them. It's a Warden's sense; sending someone unqualified on a rescue mission will only end with two people in need of rescue, and here, Ingo is very unqualified. He already needed to be brought out once. Even now...being out of the fog has stopped the worst of it, but he still feels scattered and absent-minded.

Alone in this house, he can't really be sure that his remaining memories aren't still slowly drifting away.

By the time Gladion shows up, Ingo's hunched over on the couch. He hasn't cleaned up at all, so he still looks tired and disheveled from his own days wandering the streets. But he's found other things! He's reading through a journal - out loud, in fact, mumbling to himself - and squeezing his locket in his free hand.]

[Between him and Max and Basil, Gladion's the one with the rarely-exhausted mount. So they part at the Palazzo, and Silvally takes him home.

He's dead on his feet, animated by the fog but still feeling the days of...deprivation? Self-neglect? There are already little buds growing where Basil sliced his mostly-dead vines away, but without them his balance feels strange. And the moss on his back surely needs more thorough pruning, too. And - he needs more water, and food. And probably to put roots down. Maybe...maybe it would be prudent to feed feed, too. It's not as if he can't do that piecewise.

All thoughts that roll back and forth as Silvally sort of pushes him up to the door, and then through it once he opens it. It needs its own food, too. And a bath, probably. And-

oh.

Gladion looks, frankly, like shit. Rumpled, a little muddy, leaning somewhat on Silvally's neck. There's a funny texture to his skin, just faintly, missing some of the vibrancy of his usual green. He looks odd around the eyes, particularly, and not just because they're not moving quite as quickly as they usually do.

They track up over Ingo. Over to the chain of the locket. (Something flips over in his stomach.) Silvally hisses quietly at him (worried.) and Gladion lifts the hand thrown across its shoulders to give it a little scratch.]

Sorry I was out so late.

[It is absolutely a joke but he absolutely is not mustering up the energy to laugh about it.]

Gladion!

[Ingo sets aside his book and releases his death grip on the locket, standing up hurriedly. He doesn't remember exactly how long Gladion was missing. At least as long as Ingo himself, presumably, except he's a little vague on that too. But he looks terrible!]

Are you alright? Please, sit - I will get you some water!

[And food - Ingo should have prepared something! He himself probably hasn't eaten for a while, but his own hunger had faded into the background enough to ignore; you get used to these things in the mountains.]

Yeah. [A nonspecific mumble. He could explain something about Max - who'd said something about making a promise to Ingo - but the words aren't putting themselves together.

Silvally continues to make his decisions for him. It snaps up the back of his jacket in its beak and walks him straight to the couch, and he seems to have his hands full for a moment with not tripping over himself or faceplanting into the cushions. And then, once he's sitting the right way up, with looping his arms around Silvally's head for a hug; it's hunched over him and pushing its nose into his shoulder, huffing with broken tension.

It needs a moment. Gladion will give it a moment. It went to incredible lengths to find him and bring him back, and this sort of counts as stepping across the finish line. He needs to...scratch out some space to take care of it, before he collapses. And find out what happened to Ingo and Emmet while he was gone.]

[Water first! He fills a large cup and brings it over, pausing for a moment to size up Silvally. A Pokemon - he has been very focused on the picture in his locket, and this Pokemon isn't in it. He didn't actually know they had one in the house.

But that's alright! The journal he found in his room was obviously prepared for this exact circumstance; he would have written about it. He just needs to flip ahead. Anyway it's obviously a carnivore.]

Ah, something for your friend as well, of course! Do we have anything already made...?

[It's just more thinking aloud. Ingo's already returning to the kitchen to check. There's a few containers of leftover food in the fridge, from meals that he doesn't really remember preparing. Maybe one of the others did? But how long ago? He takes out a few to inspect, as well as a larger container of plain raw meat that he assumes is for Pokemon.

(It's not the special bowl. He does remember the special bowl.)]

["Something for your friend" sounds odd. It plucks at Gladion's worn nerves; he lowers the cup from his lips and rests his head on Silvally's face and watches Ingo putter back and forth in the kitchen.

He expects that something happened, that he's come home to something a little different than he left, even if it's as simple as a lingering haze of stress over his own disappearance. He knows that-]

Max said she ran into you in the city. [-that Ingo was out there, though not if that means he was there briefly or if he, too, was lost for a while.] Where's Emmet? Is he still here?

No. The house was empty when I arrived - except for the animals, of course!

[He already skimmed through the journal to figure out what those were and whether or not they belonged here! He's fed them since, though it seems that he and Emmet did leave out a supply for them in preparation for their departure.

(Is a cakedog an animal? Well, no matter.)

A container of rice and vegetables passes muster. He heats it up and brings it over, along with a plate of meat for the Pokemon.]

I think he must have gone into the city as well. I don't recall if we left together, but if so, we have been separated for some time.

[The worry and tension is obvious in his voice. But again - what can he do about it now that won't just make the situation worse?]

[Don't...recall if they left together? Gladion recalls perfectly well the circumstances of his own journey back into the fog. Doesn't understand some of his own actions in hindsight, but he remembers how he...pretended everything was alright, put Silvally in its ball, and then just snuck out. All the strategy involved in that. All the thinking that wasn't.

Silvally scarfs down a shred of meat, and nips Gladion. He puts a piece of radish in his mouth and chews slowly. He, too, is tense after hearing that, staring across the room while his stomach remembers how food works.]

...I'm sorry.

[He's rotating it. They went out there for his sake. Emmet hasn't come back. And now there's nothing he can do about it, really.]

It's alright. I'm sure it would have happened one way or another!

[For all that they live outside the city now, it doesn't seem as though they've been particularly successful in actually avoiding the things that happen there. But if they all work there, and much of the monster population lives there, perhaps that's to be expected.]

The best thing we can do now is to stay safe ourselves. There are people helping those in the fog - Emmet will be alright!

[Unhappy as he is to stay at home, Ingo is pretty sure he'll be fine at the end of the day. Even if the both of them also went out there to try and help others.]

[And who is he to doubt that, having been picked up by two of those very people? Still the doubt gnaws. Those months-old memories are fresh again, and Gladion feels strange and unsteady.

Two more bites, and he's at the very outer edge of nausea. Taking it slow. Watching the tired sag of Silvally's eyes, hand-feeding it its next bite on a whim. It accepts it and chirps to ask for another.

Gladion's head is (slowly) swimming. There are things he needs to do. But he should rest. But...ugh. If he can't bring Emmet back, the thought goes, then at least he can-

-wait.]

Where's- [He lifts his head suddenly, remembering - locket. His locket. Lillie's face. Out of date, but better than nothing. Wide-eyed, he leans forward as if to stand up, and Silvally puts a claw on his thigh, pinning him where he sits.]

Ah - what is it? Let me!

[Ingo shoots back up from where he'd started to sit again. Granted, he may not have any idea where whatever Gladion wants is either. But let's give it a shot, at least!]

[A moment's pause.]

...It's fine. It's in my room.

[Which is to say, it's something he'll take care of, later. Not urgent enough to bother with all of that, right now. Gladion reminds himself: it's not going anywhere, and he's not in the fog anymore.]

...alright.

[Ingo's a little hesitant, but upon seeing that Gladion isn't going to ask him to fetch anything more, he sits. Picking up the journal, he flips to roughly the middle and then starts quickly skimming forward, scanning for any mention of the Pokemon in the room. He's not sure Gladion noticed that he isn't really sure what it is or when it got here, but if not, he'd like to get a handle on that quickly!]

Mukuro and her sister were the ones who gave me a ride out. I told her that you and Emmet were there as well - perhaps they will find Emmet too.

[As far as the sister goes, Ingo just...has no real reason to disbelieve that her sister might be around? Seemed real to him!]

[Gladion's ability to notice things is sitting at a solid -70% debuff.

Silvally's is -10% at worst. Now that it's sure Gladion isn't going to try to get up and stagger around in a panic, it's squinting in Ingo's direction, watching him page through the journal.

Gladion's brow furrows too, but into the coarse fur of Silvally's shoulder. Mukuro's sister? That must have been a memory. But one she had enough control over to still know which way was out.

He snorts fondly.]

Isn't that just like her. [Mukuro is so cool.[

[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.

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