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The party was deafeningly loud and practically unbearable, the blindingly neon lights paired with music blasting so hard it caused ears to ring was enough to make anyone almost sick to their stomach. It definitely didn’t help that everyone was heavily intoxicated, and drinking still. There were so many people as well, too many to move around properly. No one could take half a step without bumping into someone else, possibly starting a fight between the two of them. In order to escape the sickeningly loud music, bright lights, and massive crowd of people, one would have to, somehow, make it out of the main room. That, however, was almost impossible. Almost.
Beryl was, fortunately, able to push through the giant crowd. Though, he almost stumbled over onto the ground and got trampled many times. Once he escaped his former torture chamber, he ran towards the backdoor, he needed to get at least a little bit of fresh air. He loved parties, sure, but if he stayed inside for any longer, he feared he might puke all over his nice carpet. And no one wants that. He reached the backdoor, throwing himself at it and desperately trying to open it in his stupid, drunken state. He could hardly think straight. He could hardly think at all.
Once he got outside, he almost fell to the ground panting. His breath was shallow and quick, much quicker than it should be. The fresh, cool breeze of the night air was much better than how stuffy, hot, and cramped it was inside. He sighed in relief, closing the door behind him and leaning on it, sinking to the ground. His vision started to fade. He sat there for a moment, not really thinking about anything in particular. When he heard a voice coming from.. Somewhere. It was hard to make out what it said. It repeated itself. It sounded more like a faint hum than anything, Beryl wondered if it was all in his imagination. Perhaps, it was the voice of Arceus himself, reaching out to bring him to PokeHeaven. Or Giratina, coming to drag him to the Distortion World. Probably the latter. Or, maybe, it was just a dream. Maybe he was dreaming.
“Are you okay?” The voice was smooth and deep, it was very nice to listen to, that's for sure.
Beryl weakly sat up, letting out a small, honestly pathetic sounding, hum in response. He rubbed his eyes. Still couldn’t see. He rubbed them again. His vision came back to him. It took a pretty long while, though. He tried to find the source of the voice, whipping his head from side to side. He could still barely see. The voice sounded again. “Can you hear me?”
He gave a weak nod. He, then, felt a presence, a figure looming above him. Maybe it was the source of the voice he kept hearing. The figure bent down beside him, curling over him to look him in the eye. It asked again. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?” It sounded worried. That made the sides of Beryl’s mouth curl into a soft, subtle smile. Whoever this was, they were worried about him. Probably. “Hello?” they asked, “are you awake?”
Beryl hummed. They sighed, propping him up against the wall. He could see better now, definitely. He could see the person who was so worried about him, at least.
Oh. It was Arceus.
Beryl couldn’t say he had interacted with Dave very much. Dave didn’t talk to people very much, he preferred to be on his own. He was also, to put it lightly, boring. He was, possibly, the most normal, dry, flavorless individual Beryl had ever had the misfortune of meeting. Ironic, considering this boring individual happened to be the god of their entire universe, and most likely other universes alongside theirs. He wasn’t all bad, sure, he was nice, and pretty, but the cons definitely outweighed the pros. Beryl didn’t want to think of him too harshly, though. He wasn’t that much of an asshole. The few interactions he’d had with Dave were, for the most part, rather pleasant ones. Putting aside how boring they were, of course.
As he regained his senses, he was able to actually process what was going on around him. All of a sudden, he could perfectly hear, see, and feel everything that was happening. He was being held, kind of. He looked around, finally actually looking Dave in the eyes. Man, he was hot. Dave had beautiful eyes, the kind, Beryl thought, that you could get lost in for hours at a time. He also had really fluffy, soft looking hair. Beryl had the urge to run his fingers through it, to feel just how soft it really was.
“Woah..” he mumbled, his heart rate getting ever so slightly higher. His words were a bit slurred, he was drunk, high, and exhausted, after all. Dave furrowed his brows in confusion. Beryl started laughing. Dave was not amused, clearly he didn’t find this situation as funny as the sneasel did. He asked again, “Are you okay?”, to which Beryl responded with a nod. Dave sighed and backed away from him, sitting beside him instead.
They both sat against the backdoor of Beryl’s house, silent. It’s not like they could have a meaningful discussion if they wanted to, anyways. Beryl couldn’t even do that when he was sober. Instead, they looked at the sky. Staring at the stars, or the moon, or maybe nothing at all.
Beryl woke up the next morning, on his bed, neatly tucked under the covers like a child. He didn’t remember ever going back inside, though, he barely remembered anything. He looked to his sides, on one side, nothing, on the other, a freshly cooked breakfast. Hm. Strange.