Auxtrema: The Clash at Indigo

The Tickets

"Are you ready to order now?"
"Uh...no...sorry. I'm still waiting on someone to get here. She shouldn't be long though."

Elliot had long ago made a little game out of Myra's lateness.
He needed to do something to keep from stewing in boredom while waiting on his less than punctual friend to arrive. He bounced his knee under the table, his keychain jingling at his hip and his Pokedex rattling against his thigh in the pocket of his cargo shorts. Elliot Bright liked to think that he was good at quite a few things but sitting still was not one of them.
There was always part of him that needed to move on- like a millwheel pushed by a turbulent current. He always needed to have something to do, something to listen to, something to direct his mind, not here but over there, moving on, going, going, gone.
It was when a nearby waitress shot him a glare, (the Paras on her shoulder almost comically following suit), that he decided that it was best to stop drawing attention to himself. After all, he had already been warned that he'd be booted out if he didn't order something to eat. There were only so many lemonades he could order before the table would need to be cleared.
"Come on, Myra," he hissed under his breath, checking his phone and grimacing at her last message.

"Nearly there xx" it said.
Elliot had been friends with Myra long enough to know that "nearly there" meant "just left the house" and considering that she lived more than two bus stops away, this could make for an irritating wait.
"Distract yourself," a voice behind his forehead scolded. "Now's not the time to be jittery. Play your game."
Ah yes, the game. What would today's game be?
Elliot looked around the Petal Dance café, his eyes searching for something to inspire him. The Celadon City shopping mall was busy today but that was to be expected. School was out as of a few days ago, the weather had been one great big Sunny Day attack and the tourists were rolling in.
His brown eyes eventually settled on an auburn-haired flower lady standing outside one of the (many) perfume shops. Flanked by an eager Vileplume, she happily accosted any remotely interested passer-by, spraying them with X-Accurate precision.
"Perfume sample? It's Erica No. 7....Perfume sample, sir? It's Erica No. 7..."

That was it, he'd count the number of times she said the name of the perfume right up until Myra arrived. How many times would he be able to say it?
He glanced down at his shirt pocket where Fizzle, his Joltik, was happily nesting. The static made his shirt cling to his chest a little but he didn't really mind. Elliot's Joltik was usually a conversation starter with strangers as they weren't native to Kanto, never mind Celadon City mall. Fizzle had been an emergency foster, brought home by his ranger mother and quickly bonded to Elliot like a Kanghaskhan to their youngling.
"What do you think bud?" he said, giving Fizzle's fuzzy little yellow head a scratch with his fingertip. "Fifty times or more? A hundred? Yeah, that sounds good to me...here we go...one....two...th-..."

To Elliot's surprise, a purple duffle bag was suddenly dumped in the chair opposite him and out popped the chubby, azure face of a Marill, its ears wiggling with apparent delight to see him.
"Hey!" came a familiar trill as Myra shrugged her jacket off and draped it on the back of the chair.

Her friend raised a thick, dark eyebrow. "That was quick."
She returned his expression, a little thinner and a lot fairer. "I told you I was nearly there."
"Yeah, but how often do you mean that?"
"...fair enough. You've got me there."

She settled into the seat, lifting Marill to receive the headrub he'd been straining for.
"Hiya Marill," Elliot smiled, tickling behind his ears. "It's nice to see you out and about again after that tussle with Dinah's Scyther."
"The Pokemon Centre staff said that Marill made one of the speediest recoveries that they'd ever seen," Myra proclaimed proudly. "He was back out of the ball in like three days. How's Fizzle?"