[h3][color=#99ff66]AMELIA THE PANCHAM[/color], [color=#d3ff80]VALIANT VILLAGE[/color][/h3]

[color=#99ff66][B]"WAKE UP!"[/b][/color] 

The immature, obstinate pokemon stirred; beginning to rouse herself out of her sleep, the bongs of cast iron pots being repeatedly smacked together and her father's galling bellows striking her eardrums as the sun began to rise over Valiant Village. He could hear him pacing about her bed, thumping the two items together over and over, booming over clangs and clatters while shouting at her to wake up. Takeo Feuille had waken his daughter up like that for the last two years. He'd take the time to carefully and delicately sneak up the stairs, ensuring his massive footsteps were soft, tip-toe his way down the creaky wooden paneled floor, gently open the door to her room, and unleash the crescendo of his pot symphony. The girl covered her ears with her pillows, trying to drone out the incessant howling of his shouting and pans. It wasn't long before, finally quitting, she'd thunder off, throwing the pillows down in frustration as her father followed, belly laughing profoundly. 

The two would begin breakfast in the small, cramped kitchen, her father practically hunching over in order to avoid smacking his head against the crumbly ceiling. [color=#d3ff80]"You didn't have to wake me up [i]this[/i] early,"[/color] Amelia murmured in a small, tired voice, in sharp contrast to her father's deep, booming, and imposing one. The early morning haze still fogged her mind, causing her to forget that  she was supposed to be the big, tough outlaw. [color=#d3ff80]"I really need some more sleep, dad.."[/color] Her dad leaned in, staring at her inquisitively, an eyebrow raised. [color=#99ff66][b]"You're in a surprisingly good mood, Amelia!"[/b][/color] Her father exclaimed, still chewing through his steaming bowl of noodles. [color=#99ff66][b]"You're usually still sour about the wake up call!"[/b][/color] The pokemon would blink twice, her eyes growing lucid and mouth losing the confused, sleepy smile, realizing just who she was supposed to be. [color=#d3ff80]"I-I can't believe you woke me up this early, f-fartface!"[/color] The pokemon said, catching herself. [color=#d3ff80]"I'm too old for that kind of junk! [sup]not too old for a bedtime story, though.."[/sup][/color]

Her father smiled. [color=#99ff66][b]"Okay, that's a little more along the lines of my daughter."[/b][/color] The Pangoro laughed, slurping the last of the spicy soup remaining. [color=#99ff66][b]"Well, sun is rising - you know restaurant's going to get busy soon, and I need to prepare!"[/b][/color] The massive pokemon would slide over his small stool, turning around to head down the stairs - the restaurant floor completely silent, devoid of the usual laughter, jokes, and threats that usually permeated through the thin floorboards. Amelia followed him down. [color=#d3ff80]"Ugh, dad, do I really have to help [i]right[/i] now? I have lots of stuff to do."[/color] By lots of stuff to do, she meant hanging around on a boulder and pretending she was a cool outlaw. [color=#99ff66][b]"It'll be simple, honey- just help me set up for the morning breakfast rush, and you can go hang out with any friends."[/b][/color] Her father declared. [color=#99ff66][b]"Just start up the fire and prep the ingredients."[/b][/color] The Pangoro got to work, boiling pots of water, steaming noodles, and mashing sauce together with surprising finesse for someone so large.

Amelia would help him, walking about the small kitchen setup he had devised - washing fruits and vegetables in the cool waters of his stone washbowl, pulling spices and powders out of labeled string-tied pouches, and pouring a series of liquids into a large, metal barrel affixed to a series of junky, criss-crossing pipes. She threw a handful of black powder into the opening of a large, spherical stone furnace with a stone pipe leading up through the roof. The furnace would ignite, and she spent the next few minutes blowing and tending to the small flickers of an ember that she had managed to produce to eventually create a strong, hardy flame. The furnace also doubled as a heating system for the family, allowing them to keep warm while cooking pancakes. Her father fastened his typical white band around his head and tied on his large, stained apron, before walking over to the door and flipping over to the open sign, smiling proudly as he placed his hands on his hips, waiting for the first customer of the day - civilian or explorer.

Amelia pushed past her dad, rushing through the early morning village. [color=#d3ff80]"Okaythanksdadbye!"[/color] She said, eager to get out of the house and find something to do.