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[center][color=6F4E37][b]MENTIONS:[/b] [color=FFFFF4]everyone[/color][/color][/center]
[color=FFFFF4]Rain started to pitter-patter upon the windows as things were just getting spicy. The empty space at the bar where Ryker would usually sit just seemed to make everyone antsy. Beryl sipped at the remnants of her whiskey as Fiona and Leander became engaged with one another. A battle was potentially brewing, and of course, Vivi wanted to watch. Hestia definitely did. Both of the younger girls had turned their attention towards the prospect of any action other than choice words and the upkeep of appearances. Beryl sighed, sending a sympathizing glance at Charles. Just how did he stay so calm when a bunch of young, hot-blooded trainers– many vying for the top spot of Champion of Galar– were so keen on breaking out into battle within the bar’s vicinity? She’d had to help put everyone in place if the fools started to drunkenly throw their Pokemon at one another. 

[color=E38AAE][b]“Oh, hey, Mr. I’m-so-broke-I-can’t-even-afford-a-taxi is finally here,”[/b][/color] Hestia’s jarring cackle had broken the very brief lull in conversation among the leaders. [color=E38AAE][b]“By Arceus, Briar. You should really get your head out of your own ass and invest in a Flying-type. Or are you waiting for a damn Articuno to fly by and sit on your head?”[/b][/color]

Beryl blinked, choosing to ignore what Hestia spouted from her limoncello-drowned tongue and instead turning her attention to the man who had just strode into the bar with the nonchalance of a brumating Torterra. Briar’s arrival before Ryker’s was a concern– if not, a miracle– to be seen. She had partially expected for the man to show up to the bar the night [i]after[/i] their celebration, but here he was in the flesh. Chuckling at Niall’s bewilderment, Beryl placed her glass back down upon the smooth wood of the bar and tapped on the edge of the cup. [color=6F4E37][b]“Another, Charles. Oh, and Niall, you owe me twenty-thousand PokeDollars.”[/b][/color] She gave the boy a sly grin. [color=6F4E37][b]“Something told me that Briar would one-up Ryker this time around. Man can’t always be the last one to get here.”[/b][/color]

The late spring drizzle became a heavy downpour as Beryl mulled over her second glass. Her curiosity slowly morphed into concern, and she was half-tempted to ring up the Champion and ask if he was on his way. She wondered why no one had bothered to text Ryker as of yet; there were some of their number, such as herself, that were hesitant to reach out and pester an already busy man, but what of the others? Maybe they were too caught up with their trading of words that time had slipped away from them. But the longer that Ryker took to get there, the longer she would have to stay– and the longer she stayed meant that she would have less time to read before bed. She supposed that she could forgo finding out whatever happened to poor Fortunato in the latest chapter of her novella. Pity. 

[color=6F4E37][b]“Another, please, Charles.”[/b][/color]

It was half past eleven when the door swung open. Beryl,who was half-way into her fourth whisky, turned from her conversation with Niall about her current research to face the sopping mess that was [url=https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/1393013050596135137/1397012062818799666/172b5952c97b3a67dd0144977566ac9a.jpg?ex=68f8cd9f&is=68f77c1f&hm=91941231e4d50ce73fdf37c79e9ec9908169ed15235d8b9f2f2c56e9c52abae7]Ryker[/url]. The man’s black jacket was drenched and his white hair, usually stark white and fluffy, was slick wet with rainwater as he stood near the door and stomped his feet upon the rug. Though he was soaked to the bone, the young lad’s easy-going smile persisted as he hung the sopping jacket upon the coat rack before turning to join the others. He had chosen his regular seat right next to Fiona, reaching forward to give her a pat on the shoulder before glancing up towards the rest. 

[b]”Apologies, everyone. Arrows and I were caught up in that nasty storm and had to round the cell to avoid the rest of it.”[/b] His eyes widened slightly at Briar’s appearance. [b]”Jeez. I’m [i]really that late[/i], aren’t I?”[/b]

[color=E38AAE][b]“Damn, you couldn’t even buy an umbrella?”[/b][/color] Hestia grumbled from around her fifth-or-something drink. Her glossy eyes slipped towards the puddle forming on the floor below Ryker. [color=E38AAE][b]“Charles’ gonna be pissed, moppin’ up after your mess.”[/b][/color]

[b]“Can’t use one of those on Corviknight-back, I’m afraid,”[/b] Ryker said, turning away to call over Charles. [b]“Hard night’s work, Charles? Get me a rum-and-pop, if you could. I assume that Hyacinth hasn’t shown his face around here.”[/b][/color]