Hidden 7 yrs ago 7 yrs ago Post by Bork Lazer
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Bork Lazer Chomping Time

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No Gods but Monsters


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The Pallet Sun is out and the morning Pidgey is crowing away as this shindig of a graduation ceremony is happening. You six get to get shake hands with my Gramps, probably play audience to some grandiose speech by some elusive, long-forgotten retired first, second or third ring champion before going off to Tojho Falls and committing yourselves to the first genuine act of water pollution you ever commited in your lives.

It is the 1050th Indigo Seasonal Pokemon League. A year and a half long tourney of fledgling trainers to play the Game. Some veteran trainers romanticise it as a journey of self-exploration. Conservatives call it a celebration of a cherished honored national past-time. Progressives call it a ruthless blood-sport that only serves as a hotspot for tourism and nothing more. Hmph.

You know what I prefer to call it? Paying homage to a god. A ideal known as the Grand Champion. Of course, the Grand Champion isn't just one person. Their faces change every year. Some seem to last for more than a century but you catch my drift. The Grand Champion is the epitome of human nature as a whole. Not the political definition of responsibility, the antiquated sentiment of pure will nor the brunt belief of pure skill. He or she represents our capability to survive as a species, endure through that great Collaspe which shook the world in times I couldn't possibly conceive. The Champion is a representation of the human ability to kill mercilessly and act without remorse for our own ensured survival.

So, what's the purpose of the flock of trainers, then? To be his worshipers.

How do we worship a god such as this? An unorthodox one?

Why, by trying to kill him, that's why. Shatter his image. Defeat him so thoroughly that he could be subjectively considered dead. The Gyms, the multitude of trainers in your way, the wild pokemon, whatever obstacles you encounter are his guards, his castle. By trying to kill him, we raise ourselves in return and better ourselves. We worship his beliefs for monetary gain. We worship to find purpose in life. This worship is the ultimate method of self-improvement.

All of us have the potential to be Champion. And yet, we're not.

Only Champions have the potential to defeat Champions.

You can take the above monologue as me snorting up too much petrified Emolga shit or you can either forge an explanation of your own to why the League exists in the first place.

My explanation is only one interpretation after all.

But, it sounds way fucking cooler than what you can come up with. Am I right or am I right?

- Gary Samuel Oak, Blue, 9 years old


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Shattered Reflections


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Monsters and Men


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The morning chatot cries out loud in the soft dappled glow of the sunrise as the inhabitants of Pallet Town wake up to another day. Some stay in, workers who've taken a late shift for their vacationing co-workers while others, owners of Weedle and Wurmple silk stores,
berry store sellers, traditional blacksmith workers and the local entourage of shopkeepers in Pallet roll up their blinds to a busy day of catering to customers.

That is, if it were any normal day in Pallet. Pallet was a valley town, in the country-side and far away from the benefits, disadvantages and the package that urbanization brought to most cities in Kanto. There was a regular ordained schedule for most people. The tall emerald grass vibrated gently in the gusts of the wind. Of course, there were the Pokemon. There was an old paradox saying that no city could be considered civilized if there was still wild pokemon roaming about but yet, pokemon was a necessity in today's society. Carrier birds of all sizes and species, wingulls, pidgies and taillows, travelling distances of merely a block to trans-continental routes, flow across the skies of Pallet incessantly. Guard growlithes and arcanines stood on guard in the stables and on the lawns of their owners, scratching the back of their oversized ears with their hind legs once in a while. There were gaggles of children playing and prodding at the odd mundane wild pokemon such as an Caterpie that seemed more chubby than the 256th one they saw yesterday or playing at dreams of grandeur, imagining they had some unique, legendary, one in a million mon contained in an primitively carved apricorn husk that resembled a poke-ball.

Pallet was a frozen painting, each color serving to provide a view that would have gone old real fast. An annual fresh coat of paint was needed to keep up the allure. The Pallet Pokemon Graduation Ceremony. It wasn't clearly a bout of public hedonism like the Goldenrod Festivals nor was it a ravaging foaming display of national patrioism like the Vermillion Parades but it was traditional, respectful and a under-rated event. Adhering to the strictest of traditions that had been practiced since the begining of the Neo-Collaspe Era and the expenditure of money monitored by the Professor himself. While the economic and social benefits of the graduation ceremony to Pallet Town were stated innumerable times in geopolitic essays and rag-tag fifth grade geography posters, the Pallet Graduation Ceremony celebrated over 25 trainers who had passed their exams successfully, 15 endemic to the population of Pallet and 10 non-endemic trainers or wildcards to be precise. Strangers. The point of the ceremony was the same as any. To give one a feeling of worth-while achievement and the allure of celebration was a drug that was under-estimated in its potency. Especially in a sleepy valley town.

Bottles of champagne were being cracked open as families watch the event from their TV. A pixellated video of the Pallet Town Amphitheatre, connected to Route 1, open-air, crowded to the brim as every seat was densely packed to the brim with Pallet natives, tourists, eager sponsership companies, food stand operators and security guards looking to quell any signs of rowdy behavior. Bated breath, as they waited for the main attraction of the day event.

The trainers, of course. And you, my good friend, are one of those trainers.

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Slate


The underground chambers of the Pallet Cobblestone Amphitheater were clammy and less claustrophobic than Willis imagined. Smooth chiseled marble covered the walls, archways lining throughout the waiting room as the entire alabaster room was illuminated visibly with the assistance of the ceiling lights above. Paper cups, crumpled and soaked blue with Oran berry juice, were scattered on the floor below, kicked around or flattened by the foots of the trainers in the underground chamber. He had secured himself a safe little corner, tucked away behind a pillar, away from the prattle of other trainers socializing among themselves. In a large space with nothing to do, it seemed that people always gravitated towards each other. Humans were social animals, plain and simple. It didn't take a PhD in applied poke-sciences to figure that one out.

Besides, he was concentrated on something else more important than talking about the new League regulation of the month, the current Orre Refugee Crisis that was occurring or the latest slew of insults towards Pokemon Coordination.

His stump. The shabby dilapidated remains of his left fore-arm. Fresh skin, akin to that of a new-born baby, had grown over and his left arm bleeded no more. He could still remember that day in the ER, when he tried to believe that the river of blood running red from his arm was just a adrenaline-fueled hallucination and that he wasn't a cripple. If only reality was more grateful to him. If only. Then again, reality was a cruel mistress that could take and give at any time.

His fingers gently grazed across his amputated limb, dancing over the freshly healed skin as he mulled over the most shittiest development in the history of shitty developments that was his entire life in general. He was still trying to get used to it, forgetting that he was even missing his left arm at all. Reaching for the phone in his shower. Dropping items on the ground accidentally due to lack of balance.

The doctors said he would get used to it. The therepeutic process would take time and soon, all would be right as rain. That was what he was hoping for. He squinted his eyes as a wayward errant physical feeling reverberated through his right arm. The feeling of the polished wood table in his face. The solid composition of a poke-ball in his grasp. The yielding texture of a wheat bun during a morning breakfast routine in his barracks. All of those past sensations mocked him as he kept feeling each and every one of them.

He could still feel it. That otherworldly, ghostly sensation that mimicked his left arm. The electrical feeling of reaching out for the air. Clenching. Squeezing. A semblance of what could have been. His mind knew that it was gone but even the human body had limits to how it reacted to a integral part of it being lopped off and tossed into a sterilized medical trash can. Phantom limbs were the medical term for them. Official medical report considered him lucky. He wasn't suffering from the constant burning or agonizing pain that plagued most people with his condition. A mild tingle. The physical history of past sensations was his only punishment for his gumption of applying for the Rangers Spec Ops Training.

Enough of remniscing about the past. Bitter memories could turn into a disease if he didn't take care of them properly. Breath. In and out. He closed his eyes for a second, his heart-rate slowing down as days of regimented drill training in Viridian's Fort Barrow took over. After his final exhalation, he opened his eyes, the most sedate he'd ever been since...Well....the days on the farm. Not that he liked to admit it. He absent-mindedly tugged on the collar of the outfit he'd chosen to wear to the Ceremony today. The Ranger Corps had been lucky to allow him to keep his G.I mon, despite the fact it was loaded with Waterloo's genetic modified whackery that would be considered morally reprehensible for Novice competition. His former BDU uniform, no beret included, was just the ticker. Just the pants, though. Former military and a crippled condition, when combined together, tended to attract attention. And uncomfortable questions. He combined it with a side of Milotic's Beauty very own tanned Miltank leather jacket that his G.I bill could afford safely. He was a wallflower. Unappealing. Unattractive. Out of notice. Just what he wanted. He rarely had any time to enjoy the benefits of the income he earned from being a Ranger due to the frequent rotations he had between the numerous Ranger Squads in the Viridian Sector.

That and the upkeep for Thrush's nutritional requirements was horrendous. Quality Celadon fertilizer that was approved by Erika Vajhallen, the Thorn Gardener, didn't come cheap at the price of one Idol.

Speaking of which, his little partner in this self-appointed mad quest of his was currently dozing off in a ceramic pot full of down by his feet. A handle grip connected to the pot allowed him to barely support Thrush's obese weight with his right arm. A green crown of leaves poked out from the pot as it could have been mistaken for a potted plant, some sort of rooted vegetable like a carrot or a radish. The leaves swayed unnaturally, bobbing up and down, as if there was some inhabitant inside there. The hustle and bustle of the room didn't appear to wake Thrush up from his slumber. Why did he even bother worrying? He'd trained Thrush for public situations multiple times. It wasn't like he was going to do a designated pollen dispersal in a heavily crowded area to the mere sound of footsteps. Now, that would earn him a court martial, decommissioned officer or not.

Willis leaned back against the marble wall as he relaxed himself, sagging his shoulders as he waited for the go signal from the underground speakers that would put all of the 25 trainers currently inside the room in the spotlight of every news channel and sports channel in the borders of the Indigo Provincial Government. He wondered for a brief moment if he knew what he was doing. If he was out of his depth in the League just as he was in the Ranger Corps.

Eh, fuck it.

He'd come too far to doubt himself now.



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Celadon Fertilizer - Several grades of League-approved experimental fertilizer are used and supported in competition for healthy growth of grass-type pokemon and to decrease the waiting period for the evolution period. Quality of the fertilizer is determined by the League Competition Approved Chemical Grading System, Indigo being the highest tier while Lavender is the lowest tier.


Waterloo - Waterloo is the military division of Chimera Industries, a legal government-sanctioned company specializing in the genetic modification of pokemon for uses in the public and private sector. Waterloo currently hold stock in the Ranger Corps, A.C.E and the Kantonese Military.


Neo-Collaspe- The terminology referred to the modern period after the Great Collapse, an age where wild pokemon roamed the lands and humanity was on the verge of extinction with all past technology being wiped out from existence. There exists a invaluable library of pre-Collaspe records, secretly kept by most governments of the world.


Idol - Official currency of the Indigo League Provincial Government. The dollar is printed with the face of the Grand Champion of Kanto. The penny is inscribed with the face-work of Governer Takashi of Kanto and Governer Hayama of Johto who forged the Indigo Alliance. The five, ten, twenty and fifty show the current Elite Four and the hundred is a mural to the numerous governers of the Indigo Parliament. The nickle and dime feature the Kanto Professors.



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Indigo Regional Government Para-Kingdom Encyclopedia: (-043-): Oddish

Basic Characteristic: Grass Type, Poison Type, Fairy-Type subtraits, Chloroplism Category, bisexual, Bipedal with large head of poisonous leaves for photosynthesis, blue colouration, mainly subsists off minerals and water found in the enviroment, Avg height: 0.5 m, World Record Height: 1.5 m, avg mass: 5.4 kg, world record mass: 20.6 kg.

Description: One of the most abundant Grass-Types in the Viridian Forest, Oddish's operate in a hive-like fashion similar to terran indigenous ant species. Vileplumes act as the queen, Glooms acting as the guards and Oddish's acting as the work force of the colony. An average Oddish colony ranges from about 100 specimens to over 500 specimens. Oddish behaviour also includes mostly hibernating during daytime, their large leafy heads being often confused for other plants. Other than this, Oddish's are mostly used as a common survival tool for Trainers and Rangers alike in most hostile enviroments due to being simple to engender behaviours into and their wide range of plant-based capabilities based on the absorption of different organic materials. There have been over 143 recorded uses along with many unconfirmed ones for a Oddish including tinder, food, purifying water, fending off wild Beedrill, acting as a potent stun-bomb among many other uses.

Nickname: The Weed Pokemon, The Plant Pokemon, fern-heads, chloroplants, radish-mon

".......You never know how many times a G.I Oddish saved our asses out there in the field. I mean, they might look small, unintimidating, cute, endearing and useless at first but there's more than meets the eye. If I were to list all of their uses, it would take a professional Alakazam mind-reader to psycho-analyse the entire list from my mind. Hell, I don't understand why High Command doesn't give every Ranger a Oddish. You can grow them in your own house as a matter of fact...."


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{G.M Note: Too long? Too short? Let me know what you think. Keep in mind the following world-building I do above is just a habit for these types of role-plays. You don't have to follow the format. Also, phooey. That was a whammy of a post}

Hidden 7 yrs ago Post by Innue
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Innue Sheep God

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Orchid (Lin) | Vermilion (Qiao)


The first difference Song Lin had noticed when she had first arrived in Pallet town was the air. It had a fresher scent to it, despite the fact the air quality in Saffron was more than fine. Qiao had told her that the city was much smaller than Saffron, which allowed the breeze to more freely pass, which is likely what attributed to such a difference. Lin had opted to put her Eevee on a leash to provide some guidance as she navigated Pallet with an influx of people it was not the best equipped to handle.

Qiao had insisted that she dress up in her most formal silk dress for the event; a borderline ostentatious crimson-purple dress. Of course, Qiao also insisted on pairing that with a silver, asymmetric necklace with her family's crest. It didn't help that the dress itself had strands of silver woven into floral patterns on the front, running up to waistline on the opposite side of her necklace, ending just before it met a sash that Qiao had also insisted as being necessary. At least in this outfit she knew Qiao would have to carry her gear, as she knew Qiao would dress practically, as she always did. Which, of course, is precisely what was the case, Qiao opting for a pair of dark pants, black ankle high boots that disappeared under the bottom of her pants, and a nicer than usual crimson shirt and dark jacket, which fell just below her hips, to conceal some of her weapons.

Lin disagreed, pointing out her standard outfits would likely be sufficiently fine and that she could not even see what she was wearing, so it really did not matter. But Lin relented to avoid an extended discussion on the topic, which is what brought an overdressed Lin to the Pallet Cobblestone Amphitheater with an Eevee on a leash, looking rather ridiculous.

"Qiao," Lin commented, "I get the sense people are looking at me."

"They are," she responded, noting many of the eyes now trained on Lin as she passed through the crowd of trainers, "I may have been incorrect in my assessment of your required attire for this ceremony. But I was able to get some of my knives through security with all of the attention your outfit drew."

"At least the ceremony shall be visibly memorable for some," she retorted, adding a rare touch of sarcasm, something she only dare do really with Qiao given they were essentially sisters, "However, let us save our surprise for a little later and find somewhere away from some of the bustle. I would prefer not to draw too much excess attention."

With that Qiao and her Eevee guided Lin to a pillar near where Willis was. Qiao nodded to the young man politely, keeping a close watch on Lin. She could tell he was involved with the Kantonese military in some fashion, both from just the way he was composing himself as well as a quick glance at his attire. Qiao was familiar herself, having had a father in the Katonese National Military and the Kanto Secret Service.

Qiao thought about diverting Lin to a different location because of him, but that would raise unnecessary questions from her ward and was not worth an extended conversation about Qiao's paranoia. Once situated, Qiao took a stance in front of Lin, between her and the bulk of the rest of the trainers, with a slight tilt to keep an eye on Willis. While she noted the injury that likely had ruined his chances in the military, Qiao was not one to underestimate people with disabilities - clearly demonstrated by the way she treated Lin when she was not guarding her in public.

Kneeling, Lin put her hand on her Eevee, running her hand through her longtime companion's soft fur. It was familiar to her and she appreciated that given all of the new things she was experiencing. However, Lin could feel in the air another familiarity. Many of the same feelings she had felt herself as she had lost her vision.

"I still sometimes get flashes where I think I can see," she commented, just loud enough for Willis to hear, turning toward shim slightly. She was kind of guessing he suffered in some fashion himself. "Song Lin," she added quickly, bowing slight, introducing herself to as not seem rude, "And Song Qiao, and my Eevee." She had made sure to introduce her companions as well.
Hidden 7 yrs ago 7 yrs ago Post by Sisyphus
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Sisyphus

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When first she'd arrived at the sleepy little village, Ashlynn had been fairly shocked. It seemed so... ignominious a location for the Graduation Ceremony, one of the most important events of the year - she understood that a large part of being a trainer was roughing it in the woods, of course, but to have your party in a town full of rustics? Credit where credit was due, however, they had actually managed to put together a respectable little affair. After a few more glasses of champagne, Ashlynn might even be able to enjoy herself here.

"Come along, Whiskey," she called out sharply as she turned away from the catering table, consciously avoiding the crowd of congratulators and instructors and well-wishers milling about the place. Her diminutive companion trundled after her obediently, his massive ears twitching as he snuffled along the ground for discarded food. Ashlynn repressed a faint smile - as common as the Nidoran was, and as much of a glutton as her particular specimen seemed to be, she'd be lying if she said she hadn't developed a certain fondness for the creature. There was something rather enjoyable about having a bundle of poisonous spikes at your beck and call.

Ashlynn strode across the party confidently, exchanging quick pleasantries with a few of the other party-goers. She laughed at a few bad jokes, listened to some dreadfully boring anecdotes, and accepted tired advice with a smile and a sage nod or two. Much as she loathed this kind of social networking, it was never too early to start meeting important people in one's chosen field, even if most of these 'dignitaries' seemed more self-important than anything else.

At length, she spied a few of her fellow graduates standing over by some marble columns - they seemed to have the right idea, staying out of the larger party, and it might be useful to get to know them. Ashlynn whistled for her pokemon to follow her and walked over confidently. A young man who wore a military uniform and looked rather dreadfully worn out, not to mention his missing arm. The other two were girls, one poised in front of the other almost protectively, and she was apparently... blind. Good grief.

"Ashlynn Ivy," she announced as she approached, bowing her head slightly in a polite introduction and speaking in her stiff, upper-class Vermillion City accent. "Charmed to make the acquaintance of my fellow trainers-to-be."
Hidden 7 yrs ago Post by Kymera
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Kymera Genetic experiment gone wrong

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For as small a town as Pallet, there were entirely too many people milling about for Rhode’s liking.

Crowds were easy for someone to hide in, or disappear quickly into. While that was an advantage for all involved, it tended to be lessened somewhat when he was worrying about every soul present, and he was the only thing they had to concern themselves with. At least he knew what he was looking for. Shame they’d been the ones to teach him their own little tricks though. He grinned to himself despite the seriousness of it all. His gran would have smacked him over his head until he was blind, deaf, and dumb if she’d have caught him thinking having a price on his head by the Kurowasa clan was funny in the least. She’d near enough done just that before they’d arranged for him to take the P.T.A.E. and got him out of Fuchsia.

“Char char char…” Kye pawed at the top of Rhode’s head, shaking him out of his thoughts and turning his attention to the charmander perched atop his shoulders. The fire-type gave him a huff and pointed out to where a few of the other initiate trainers were gathering and chatting amongst themselves.

“Yeah, buddy. I saw them.” Rhode gave his pokemon’s leg a reassuring pat, before starting to walk the opposite direction, looking back through the crowd again. Security was supposed to be tight at this thing, but with so many people he doubted the rent-a-rangers would be able to make sure that nothing at all got through-

CHAR.” Kye barked into his ear, before the previous gentle pawing at his hair became a cuff across his scalp.

OW! Ungrateful lizard! That hurt!” Rhode rubbed his head and scowled back at his pokemon, ”I’m the one carrying you around and this is the thanks I get? Most trainers keep their ‘mon locked in their balls, and I’m starting to think they’ve got the right idea!”

Kye stared back impassively, save for the way one of his heavy scaled brows twitched upward in a disbelieving look. Kye couldn’t speak any more than any other pokemon, but Rhode swore the charmander’s lineage was tainted with some psychic-type. Especially when the look he gave Rhode was nearly screaming “Gran told you to make better friends”.

“Since when did you start listening to her more than me?” Rhode grumbled irritably at him, as several pairs of raised eyebrows turned to look at him from the crowd. Rhode ducked his head a little and stepped away from the curious stares of the on-lookers. No doubt by now the lot of them had heard from the proctor’s notes that the instructor’s thought he was half-mad, and he didn’t feel the need to confirm their suspicions just yet. Even if his pokemon was getting a bit big for his scales.

“Hateful beast.” Rhode huffed, steering himself reluctantly toward where the other trainers had all started to gather, while Kye gave him a rather pleased look that plainly said “Someone has to look out for you”.

Rhode had seen some of them during the P.T.A.E. though he’d never actually had the chance to speak with any of them. Hadn’t been allowed to prevent cheating during the written exams, or to give an applicant any unfair advantage. The one dressed like a soldier he remembered right off, since his own Grandad held himself much like the young man. Though the quick glimpse then hadn’t been enough to spot the fact he was plainly missing an arm. The girl though was new, as was her companion, who was making every attempt to NOT look like the two were physically attached to one another. She was richly dressed for the occasion though, compared to her…Rhode was going to guess either nursemaid or bodyguard. The Kurowasa had been helpful in teaching him how to spot a mark from a mile away at least, as well as- There it was. She had at least one hidden knife on her, judging by the stiffness in some of the folds of her clothing. Kane and Seiko had been far better than he at spotting those sorts of things, but they’d taught Rhode just enough to ensure he was forever having to run to stay ahead of trouble, much to his grandparents’ chagrin. The last trainer-to-be seemed to have no such reservations about the crowd or her fellow trainers, and couldn’t have looked more out of place in the rural setting if she’d tried. He’d finally edged close enough to actually hear the blue blood in her as she spoke.

“Are you sure you can’t just let me wander quietly to the exit?” Rhode half-whined to his charmander, “I’d like to be out on the Route before nightfall you know.”

Another stern look was all the answer he got, as Rhode reluctantly trudged forward to the group. He felt somewhat underdressed next to all of them. His own pants were loose and made no attempt to even reach his ankles, and his hooded vest was fire touched thanks to his shoulder mounted companion’s tail hanging down his back. He still sported a few bandages wrapped around his torso, visible beneath the fabric, courtesy of the examination’s medical team. Rhode hesitated another moment and felt Kye grumble against him, before he finally rolled his eyes and sauntered up to the group with a resigned smile on his face.

“Well aren’t you a cheery lot?” Rhode quipped looking to each of his fellow trainers, “Ya know the exams are over right? No need t’look like any of the Proctors are gonna be yellin’ at ya for another couple of weeks.”

Rhode heard himself slip into the sloppy drawl he’d picked up on the streets of Fuchsia that drove his gran madder than a Tauros. Said he sounded like a criminal rather than the man they’d tried to raise him to be. But he didn’t know what any of these others were like, and he’d much rather give his future competition the wrong first impression if he could help it.

“Name’s Rhode, and this festering lump of scales-“ He jerked his thumb toward his charmander on his shoulders, “-is Kye.”

“Char!” Kye chirruped happily, twisting around to look at the pokemon around them.

Rhode tugged the fire-type off his shoulders and set him on the ground so he could creep toward the Nidoran and inspect the bristly looking pokemon for himself. Rhode watched for a moment to make sure Kye didn’t get too close and start trouble before the ceremony was even over, before looking back to the rest of the trainers.

“Any idea when they’ll get tired of keepin’ us penned up?” He asked the others brightly.



Hidden 7 yrs ago Post by VidyaParamia
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VidyaParamia Taste for the Fallen

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Opora // Ekans


It finally came time for Graduation Day, and despite it being all the way in Pallet Town; Opora was excited. Luckily for Opora and Ekans, they did not have to go by foot. One benefit she came to learn since being in Cerulean City was that transport by boat was a plus. She reserved her ticket as soon as word of the Graduation date reached her, though it did break her budget. Cheap grub still filled their bellies though even if it did leave them feeling down on their day.

Day came where it was time to set off into the glistening sea and Opora was ready before sunrise. Ekans wrapped around her thinning neck like a lively scarf occasionally flicking it's tongue. Opora met with the Captain of the transporting ship before boarding. He was a hunched old man that reaked of salt probably due to the sea, but he was hardy and kind. The Captain asked them to wait a moment before boarding as it was still early, though they sped that time past talking and enjoying sea faring jokes. When the sun covered most of the city just right, Opora and another group with unknown tasks boarded the ship and Opora was awe-struck just from the interior, she never been on a ship before. As the ship blew it's horn, they were on their way and Opora stared out on the sea admiring it's beauty.

It felt like days before they arrived to Pallet town, though in truth it was only hours. Upon coming up to town, Opora watched it's size grow. It was like a worn out photograph, nothing really drawn out to the attention of Opora even if it did look better than her hometown. The guests of the ship left in an orderly fashion, some were young looking which left her wondering why they were traveling at such an age. She didn't have that luxury of freely travelling at their age, she had to run off and struggle. Just a matter of picking the fight worth fighting for...

Opora and Ekans, who was still calmly wrapped around her neck, walked through the small town looks at some of the stalls that were open. They waited as as time grew closer to where the doors opened to the Ceremony. When Opora saw some people make their way to a specified entrance, she decided to make haste to follow but what she seen was much bigger than she expected. Opora walked around examining the crowd that was already there though due to it's size slightly intimidated her. She glared at a few who seemed rather sketchy, despite herself looking probably just as if not more so sketchy. She leaned back towards one of the walls and watched the crowd, it wasn't like she knew anyone anyways nor was a social butterfly.
Hidden 7 yrs ago 7 yrs ago Post by BurningDaisies
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BurningDaisies The Hardcore Flower

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Burgundy

Perna Rockwood




Everyone has something they're good at it. Some folks are good at cooking, others at math or sports. Some are social butterflies who could flutter from person to person, group to group effortlessly like its part of their nature. Perna had always wanted to be like that. She believed she could be. It didn't seem like baseless confidence to her, but fact-a universal truth no amount of cold logic could refute. Never did she think that reality would so brutally reveal how inept she really was.

Absol stalking you in the night? Easy.
Ambushed by angry Diglets? Cakewalk.
Encounter with a momma Ursaring and her cub? Minor nuisance.
Dealing with other people? Run.

Dealing with people took finesse, wits, and luck! Perna felt that she lacked all three. Even after living in Saffron for so long, she thought she would get used to the big crowds. In fact, she believed she had, but leaving one's comfort zone is, by definition, uncomfortable. The people in Pallet town were nice enough, and reminded her of the rustic small-town culture she had left behind. But this wasn't the city she knew, or the farm she grew up on. They locals were pleasant to talk to on their own, but this graduation festival attracted a horde of nosy tourists and visitors. One-on-one Perna was a brilliant conversationalist, and this left her with an inflated sense of competency, but as the town amassed more and more people for the event, the more she began to realize how little experience she had in handling large crowds. A rising anxiety slowly whittled away her self-confidence. Trying to mingle with dozens of new people felt like some kind of new marathon she was wholly unprepared for. The fog of mental fatigue crept in as new names and new faces blurred together into one indistinct jumble of memories.

That's why she had been spending some time quietly recuperating near Willis, who also seemed to be avoiding the crowds. She guessed he was ex-military right away. They stood out in a crowd. Their posture always seemed uncomfortably straight like someone had glued a long metal beam to their spine. The two didn't exchange words or glances, keeping to themselves. Brutus, who had been lying contentedly at the foot of another pillar, served as Perna's personal backrest, one that was sheathed in well-groomed, brown fur and sported curved horns. Originally, Perna had wore her periwinkle blue sundress and large straw hat to fit in with the locals and appear more approachable, but thankfully her tauros was doing a fantastic job of looking grouchy and generally intimidating. A bright neon sign spelling out "Fuck off!" might as well have been floating above his head.

Few people had ventured to this side of the room so far, so she guessed it was a safe place to sit down and reasonably expect not to be bothered for awhile, perhaps even until the ceremony began. She was wrong, of course. She hadn't even finished reading her second letter before the other trainers started to approach. Two girls, at first: one overdressed, and the other seemed overprotective. Then another girl with a practiced poise arrived, shortly followed by talkative, scrappy-looking kid.

Seriously? What's with all the attention? Is this ex-military guy some big-shot I don't know about?

Perna spared them a furtive glance, and returned her attention to reading her letters. They had always been useful as a cathartic distraction and this time was no different. Besides, Doctor Frida's ramblings about strange ruins on the far side of the world, and her professional fascination with them as an anthropologist, seemed much more appealing at the moment.
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(=0=)


Two things are infinite


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Hushed whispers were left under his wake. The constant calls for an autograph or some sort of memorabilia derived from his own hands trailed behind him. For the average un-educated person who has been living underneath an Golem for the entirety of the last 70 years, they would find the image of the veritable crowd of sycophants and adolescent trainers following an old, hoary man wearing the attire of a classy nonagenarian to be somewhat 'strange'.

Samuel Gerald Oak wishes that were the case. As he tiredly scribbles down his signature and panders to the requests of meaningless, trivial photography, he briefly wishes for a semblance of normality, yet, the Oak line seems to abhor the very concept itself.

He has wished always to be referred to as 'normal'. He muses to himself, during a spot of tea or signing yet another one of the thousands of research papers sent to him for review, that the odds of that ever happening in his life-time will never see the light of day. He is, of course, Professor Oak, head of all poke-scientific endeavors within the Indigo Provincial Government, revolutionary poke-technology engineer, a political boogeyman, former Grand Champion of the Indigo Pokemon League along with a thousand titles derived from a combination of social reverence and complete, utter pants-shitting terror.

The number of responsibilities that the Indigo League expects him to uphold is no less grand than the amount of titles he hold. Legislative bills come under his review, government scientific consultation is his hobby, giving permission for uses of psychic divining and distortion dunking on blacklisted prisoners is merely an annoyance for him and he tangles with all manners of politicians on a daily basis.

Despite all of this, he is not over-worked. Merely stressed, as any person put under his situation would be.

Today, he has only one responsibility. One of his few rare work-breaks it would seem. His responsibility today is to supervise the proceedings of the Graduation Ceremony and to give the usual speeches of 'equal opportunity for every trainer' and the merits of effort, hard-work and everything associated with it.

Suddenly, the crowd then disperses like a flock of Pidgeys as a trio of men and women alike come through, dressed smart in power suits and the definition of being well-organised to the point of perfection. A regimented posture along with the leader of the trio holding up an badge that would send shivers down the spine of any Indigo citizen. A.C.E. The director had been so thoughtful to sent him an entourage of agents, stating that it was for his own 'personal protection' during the graduation ceremony. He scoffed at this.

Pure utter poppycock.

Gareth, his own personal former-Championship Dragonite, would have been enough to deter anyone from attempting an assassination attempt on him. The director had sent them to keep an eye on him. Everyone was an asset to A.C.E and they couldn't handle any piece that was rebellious to them on their jingoistic, nationalistic, clandestine chessboard of an organisation. Nevertheless, he was grateful for the relief of social pressure they provided. He and the group of agents share a nod before he continues to walk towards the entrance to the secret underground series of tunnels that led to the Amphitheater. The agents blend back into the crowd of party-goers and tourists, eerily becoming invisible to sight in a manner of seconds. It was as expected of any security service that operated in Kantonese waters. A.C.E doesn't scare him as it did back in his days of youth.

Still, he found himself gripping the miniaturized poke-ball underneath his lab-coat more harder than usual.



(=0=)


The universe and human stupidity


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Slate


Willis noticed for the first time that some people were beginning to congregate near his own space of peace and quiet serenity. He would have made for it if it wasn't for the fact that it seemed that every space except his own designated one underneath the marble arch of the underground hall was filled to the brim with trainers. Noisy, rampant, social trainers like a herd of cawing Wingulls. Fuck. Well, at the very least, they seem to have desired the same thing as he did. Distance away from the cacophany of noise that was beginning to grate on his nerves. Oh, for god's sake, when would they begin the damn ceremony?

Willis pinched the bridge of his nose, breathing out as the clamor of noises continued to annoy the goddamn hell out of him. He leaned further backwards against the wall, a permanent scowl begining to form on his face as he assessed his surroundings. There was only one trainer currently and thankfully, she seemed to be more engrossed with reading her letters than interacting with him. Good. The only thing notable about her was the heat she was packing in the form of one of the largest and most robust species currently within the room right now. There were the standard elemental trios of specially bred League starter mon, mon caught off the routes, the odd Pinsir and a room that was mostly full of the indigenous species of Kanto. The Ranger in Willis couldn't help fill in the details as he stared at the beast for a while longer, averting its ornery gaze at most times.

Tauros. Packs of them were common out in the Frontier, their herds numbered only in the dozens but they more then made up with it with their sheer, awesome power. A fully grown male bull Tauros was a Delta-3 species. Capable of tangling with most indigenous species within the Viridian Frontier without a scratch and its thick skin allowed it to just outright ignore most physical attacks. Coupled with meter long horns that could gore through flesh and bone and you had yourself a threat that could take down a unprepared Ranger. One Tauros was bad. Four and five needed a full squad of Vets to shred through. They were just as notorious as the Nidoking Packs in terms of 'the list of things that had the potential to fuck over anything that wasn't a Blackhat'. Fortunately, they weren't as hostile to humans as the Nidos nor were they blitzing pests like the Beedrill. Their mating seasons were slow-moving and unlike most species of the Para-Kingdom, they were generally non-hostile to humans. They had the general standard rule of ' If you leave us alone, we'll leave you alone.'

Willis could respect that. Tauros were the only species in the Viridian that the Rangers didn't need to cull regularly on a daily basis.

In terms of battling strength, Tauros were solid at the beginning. A solid core to build a expansive and varied team around. They could crush most Novice-Ranked Battles without a scratch and if a trainer was careful enough not to let them suffer from a career ending injury and trained their mon well, a good, healthy Tauros was viable in Major-Ranked competitions. His respect bumped up several notches when he noticed that the damn mammal was allowing her to sit on him like a couch. Anyone else who would have attempted that on a Tauros would have been stuck in the infirmary bay for a week or so. Her physicality was also impressive for someone who hadn't been in the-

"I still sometimes get flashes where I think I can see"

Willis snapped his head to the front, the soft female voice knocking him out of his reverie as he recovered from the unexpected surprise. A pair of women were currently standing in front of him, their appearances contrasting one another greatly. One of them was a woman who was the definition of physically imposing and a nose that you didn't want to tweak casually. From her stance and her apparel, a professional military or security career was written all over her like an open book. The women lingered behind the smaller, more petite women in front of her, keeping close proximity to her as if she...needed to be guarded? Why the hell would she needed to guarded? Was she royalty of some sort? It wasn't like her blank glaze to his shoulder meant that she was b-

Oh. Damn. Willis came to the realization sooner than later as the pair introduced themselves, the taller woman of the pair still giving him a death-glare that made him shift uncomfortably. God, he could only imagine what hell that bodyguard went through for her blind ward.

"Song Lin and Song Qiao, and my Eevee."

Willis replied back after a long pause, gulping slightly as he uttered out a hasty introduction of his own, making sure to not inquire about the medical condition of the girl in front of him. That would have been rude.

" Uh, Willis Ashton. Call me Slate if you want to."

A pause. For a minute or so. Willis scratched the undersides of his jacket before he tried to assuage his own curiosity before he was rudely interrupted by a formal voice.

" So, uh....., no offense but are you b-"

"Ashlynn Ivy. Charmed to make the acquaintance of my fellow trainers-to-be."

Piss. That was a fruity as hell tinge of Vermillion (motherfucking MILITARY) in that accent and he could sense 'high-class reprobate' when he heard it. Willis turned his eyes to yet another new arrival. Waif-like in appearance and her clothing reeked of the latest fashion trends. Her hair was cut in a measured bowl-cut and her face had an assured confidence to it, as if she thought the Indigo Plateau was going to be no sweat. Willis didn't like to assume as it made an ass out of himself and everyone around him but something about the woman just didn't rub straight with him. Willis replied back quickly to her introduction in a dead-pan voice as he raised one solitary eyebrow towards her. He raised a hand towards her to shake hers. While he was tempted to yell out obscenities against her Vermillion background, as all sane Rangers did, he was a Trainer now. There was a semblance of common sense in her cordial manner of socialization and while he despised it, he couldn't let biases get the better hang of him now.

" Charmed as well, Miss Ivy. Name's Willis Ashton. Sorry but I was just in the middle of a conversati-"

“Well aren’t you a cheery lot? Ya know the exams are over right? No need t’look like any of the Proctors are gonna be yellin’ at ya for another couple of weeks.”

OH, FOR CRYING OUT LOUD, DID ARCEUS HAVE A VENDETTA AGAINST HIM?

“Name’s Rhode, and this festering lump of scales is Kye.”

“Char!”


Willis gave a lazy introduction of his own, letting go of Ashlynn's hand as he waved towards the new arrival.

" Hey. Name's Willis. Thanks for dropping all in so suddenly."

Blinking his eyes tiredly, the sudden introductions were beginning to wear on his nerves as he looked towards the third individual to come to what was supposed to be his happy place. His safe sanctum where he could rest in peace. The individual was dressed like a rebel teenage hoodlum, a jacket with charred spots all over, the most likely suspect being the psuedo-dragon starter of Kanto sitting on his shoulder. A mischevious grin seemed to be plastered to the man's face, never losing excitement. There were several tattoos inscribed on his lean and muscled forearms, laid bare for the world to see. Most notable was the dragon-tattoo. Didn't match the typical designs of the Blackthorn Clan but judging from the pseudo-dragon type on his shoulder, this Rhode was most likely related to a family of dragon breeders of some sort.
One could only hypothesize. Willis signed out loud, a grunt of frustration as he replied to Rhode's question, the man's voice insufferably peppy with enthusiasm.

" Any idea when they’ll get tired of keepin’ us penned up?"

" They'll announce when the ceremony begins when the ceremony begins, man. They're supposedly sending an Alakazam to pick up one of the guest speakers, most likely Youngster Joey this year, and Professor Oak should be-"

Aw, crap. Willis picked Thrush's pot out of the ground as Rhode's Charmander was placed onto the ground, his Oddish slightly annoyed as vines began to unravel out of the dirt, clawing around Willis's arms. Willis took a tube-like whistle out of his pocket, blow as a low-pitched tune came out. The vines stopped before creeping back inside the soil. Willis signed as he scooted Thrush's pot away from the proximity of the Charmander, giving a apologetic glance towards the people around him.

" Sorry about that. My Oddish is from Waterloo. He's not too receptive towards noise and he gets riled up. Shit happens when he gets riled up."

Shit in the form of a gaseous toxic pollen dispersal with multiple agents that simultaneously caused internal bleeding, dissolved organs inside out and septic shock all one package. Waterloo were some crazy bastards.

The current subject on his mind was the amount of trainers that were beginning to concentrate on his own location was somewhat distressing. While it would be hypocritical and arrogant for him to say that he was uncomfortable of damn 'civvies' since he was dishonorably discharged from the Ranger Corps, he wasn't all that fond of socialization with trainers around him. During his short tenure as a Ranger, he was astounded by the stupidity of some of the trainers that he'd managed to encounter on routes, ones that attempted to stray from the protected areas of Viridian Forest into the Frontier to get a catch of some higher-tier pedigree monsters for competition or due to simple, stupid curiosity. The Frontier was shelved off from civilization by large, fuck-off Route Walls for a reason. To protect you from the big, scary monsters that could kill you in a thousand different ways. The things that he saw behind the Route Walls were infinitely more scary than the menagerie of Ratatas, Pidgies, Pikachus and roving critters that were found in the tall grass prairies around most settlements.

So, the question was still present. Why did he become a trainer in the first place if he was fiercely opposed to the very idea before? A reviled Ranger trying to pass for a bog-standard trainer. The reason behind his decision still eluded him.

A announcement rushed out of the speakers in answer to Rhodes question as Willis scratched the leaves of his Oddish, trying to calm the jittery plant down.

" Attention, all trainers. We are sorry for the wait but the ceremony approximately begins in about 15 minutes. Please make sure that your pokemon are stored in your poke-balls by then and that you are prepared for the activities of the ceremony. Until then, please enjoy the mandatory refreshments available in the hall."

Willis spoke sardonically towards Rhode once he was sure that Thrush was calm and ready, leaning back once against the marble wall as he scratched and tousled his hair.

" Looks like there's your answer, Rhode. Now..."

Willis yawned as he took out a canteen of water, sipping and parching his thirst before screwing back on the cap. He then grunted to himself sarcastically as he put the canteen back into his own pocket.

" I'm a man with one arm....I'm stuck with a bunch of goddamn civvies and I'm a Ranger trying to be a Trainer....and everyone's introducing themselves to me all of a sudden. "

15 minutes of more socialization with motherfucking civvies.

He would take a bout into the Viridian Frontier than deal with this crap.



(=0=)



Blackhat (The Black Berets)- The Blackhats are the Kantonese Ranger Corps specialized mon extermination division. Each member is equipped with a arsenal of mon-derived firepower ludicrous enough to destroy entire towns and civilizations, with each member standard pokemon being a Waterloo Genetically Modified Gyarados. There are currently 10 Blackhat Teams, currently situated in each Kantonese Province with each team specialized to deal with certain threats in their location such as ghost-slaying, anti-psionics, extreme prejudice against Titan-Class pokemon and so forth. There are currently 150 members split between in the Blackhat Division and they are currently responsible for most of Kanto living under safe harbor.


Distortion Dunking- An illegal method of torture which involves exposing the victim to the effects of the Distortion, typically with the assistance of a dark-type or a ghost type. The psyche of the victim is typically rendered beyond repair after prolonged periods of distortion-dunking, which contributes to the controversial nature of the method. The method is kept under tight locks with A.C.E and several other agencies such as Interpol denying its use in their investigations. There are several leaks about its existence with public groups outcrying its continued use and multiple regions around the world. No attempt has been made by the Indigo Provincial Government to halt use of distortion-dunking.


The Frontier- The Frontier is a term designated to the large expanses of unclaimed land filled with populations of wild mon beyond the Route Walls and the Hades Swathe, a 200 meter long trench filled to the brim with explosives and pikes to deter any hostile mon. The Frontier exists as a compromise for mankind's security so that wild pokemon and mankind are able to co-exist without pokemon swarming city centers for food and survival.


Youngster Joey-A roaming Major-Ranked 'Youngster' Trainer famous for exclusively using Ratatas and Raticates only in his reportaire. He is unable to go to the Indigo League Finals due to the simple fact that Ratatas and Raticates aren't worth shbang at Championship-Level but he has received wide-scale media recognition for his achievements.


Arceus- The claims of Arceus, the so-called God of all Creation, has been hotly contested between the scientific community and the religious community for centuries. While the ultimate scientific consenseus is that there is no such pokemon as Arceus. The Cult of Arceus mostly is concentrated in the region of Sinnoh with attempts to go abroad to Kanto being unsuccessful due to the efforts of the Mew Cult and the Legendary Birds Cult.



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Indigo Regional Government Para-Kingdom Index:(004)- Charmander

Basic Characteristics: Fire Type, Dragon Type sub-traits (EDIT: Dragon Type Rating removed after addendum on type relation during ICPS Conference, changed to sub-trait for more accurate representation of species), bipedal with reptilian physiology, Carnivore, red-orange coloration with cream-colored belly, continuous flame on end of tail to act as excess methane gas removal, avg height: 2 ft, avg weight: 8.5 kg, world record height: 3 feet, world record height: 39.4 kg.

Description: Charmanders are one of the exclusive members of the Kantonese Standard Starter Trio, along with Squirtle and Bulbasaur, commonly used as an expensive beginning starter mon for trainers due to reliability and exponential growth rate in terms of battle power. There has been a common mistake in members not of and of the scientific community to associate the Charmander Line with the Dragon-Type Line. Due to genetic differences between the Charmander and most species in the dragon family along with several behavioral differences, it is more scientifically accurate to consider a Charmander a pure Fire-Type rather than a Dragon Type. The evolution cycle of the Charmander is the longest out of any mon, resulting in most trainers seeking Charmeleons or Charmanders that are near evolution stage or buying genetically modified Charmanders with growth therapy modifications from Chimera Industries.

Nickname: The Lizard Pokemon, candle-raptors, false-wyrms.

"-In other words, Channel Indigo One reports that one scientist during the ICPS conference, comments that the changing of the Charmander lines typing from a dual fire/dragon type to a singular fire type was equivalent to the demotion of Pluto from a planet to a dwarf planet...."

(G.M Note: Phew, was that a doozy. If you have any problem with the way I played this scenario out, please comment in the OOC so I can make considerations towards changes that would improve the quality of my post)

Hidden 7 yrs ago 7 yrs ago Post by Innue
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Innue Sheep God

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Orchid (Lin) | Vermilion (Qiao)


Qiao's eyes narrowed intensely as Willis began to utter the question Lin always fielded. While she knew that Lin was not one to be concerned by such things, Qiao also knew that her charge sometime was not good at standing her ground, at least for her own benefit. However, Qiao had no issue fulfilling that role. She would of course keep silent on the matter, but if he did not get the message solely based on her body language, then he was denser than she already assumed he was. Lin politely listened to the other trainers that had made their way over to their little haven. She could instantly pick up the accents from both of them, as well as Willis now that he had said a few words to her. Viridian, Fuschia, and one Pallet native.

Lin introduced herself between Willis introductions to the consistently growing group of trainers, making sure to also introduce Qiao and her Eevee. Unlike some of the other trainers, she had not chosen to nickname her companion, but it was tradition in the household to wait until her Eevee evolved into an Espeon before learning her companion's name. Psychic type Pokemon could communicate in far more profound of ways with their trainer compared to most other types of Pokemon and the exceptionally strong bond between an Espeon and their trainer was even more intense than most psychic types. It was rumored, and not far from the truth, that the strength of the Espeon was from the desire to protect its trainer. Lin had experienced a small portion of that with her parents' Espeons as she grew up, the psychic creatures having helped her masquerade as normal for an extra year, something she was forever grateful for. The other tradition for the Songs was to only let the Espeon share the name with you. Bei was her father's Espeon - Fon, her mother's.

Lin's bond with her Eevee was also quite strong, but it was not experienced enough to make the next step in the evolutionary process. It was from a litter of Eevee Bei and Fon had produced. Lin's Eevee stood out to her the moment she saw it. She carried herself differently than the other Eevee, with a thoughtfulness and awareness of her impact. She spent time herding her litter mates out of trouble, but still taking an independent stand. In all honesty, Lin knew it was not her parents that she was most concerned about disappointing, but her Eevee. Her blindness was a limiter on her ability to develop an even deeper trust crucial to a powerful Espeon.

Before anyone could comment, she added to answer Willis's question, as well as head off any others, "Blind, yes." She smiled at the question. She knew that Qiao would be glaring at him intensely - one of the few things she could still recall every detail of.

"So one Viridian, one Fuschia, and one Pallet representative," Lin spoke, deciding to try to avoid a lull in the conversation, especially given the now 15 minute period of time they had to kill, as well as demonstrate her ability to pick up on some of the regional speech behaviors. Something that had become a talent out of necessity.

"I got Saffron covered. I'm pleased to meet each of you and your Pokemon." Eevee tapped her leg twice with her tail, indicating the presence of Opora and Perna, "And, if you two others would not mind introducing yourself, I'd appreciate it as I have no idea where you are." This was partially true. Even with the noise of the crowd, she had been able to listen enough to know the general vicinity of those staying outside the central mass of people. Lin had no qualms making commentary about her blindness, partially because it functioned well as a way to force people to speak with her, either out of guilt or necessity. It would be cruel for them not to respond as silence was essentially blindness on two fronts for her - although the din of the crowd of trainers would make sure silence was not a concern. Lin was also a realist and knew that the more contacts you had on the road, the less dangerous it became.
Hidden 7 yrs ago Post by BurningDaisies
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BurningDaisies The Hardcore Flower

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Burgundy

Perna Rockwood




Every. Single. Time. Perna thought. She heaved a calm, quiet sigh, neatly folder her letters, and stowed them in her satchel bag. Her expression remained soft while her mind ran wild with anger.
The one time I feel like being anti-social, and have a few minutes to myself, someone has to go an' ruin it. First, a bunch of rascally lil' kids try to flip my skirt, and now some blind girl with a surly bodyguard wants to chit-chat? Nuh-unh. No way! Go find some weepy bleedin' heart fella to listen to your sob story. I want none of it.

Although she'd probably regret her selfishness later, she was too peeved to feel guilty at the moment. Not that it was easy to tell. A bright, inviting smile with happy dimples in just the right places fools most everybody. Perna grew up learning the best way to hide things from her parents, especially since they rarely saw eye-to-eye on anything.

She stood up in one graceful motion--the very picture of prim and proper--put on her best smile, and greeted them all properly with a casual curtsy. "Perna Rockwood." Living in a major city for a few years allowed her to hide her rustic accent, but bits of it always leaked out. "This is one here is Brutus." She gestured to him. "We're from Saffron City as well."

The tauros huffed grumpily behind her and stirred the hem of her dress with the wind from his nostrils. He didn't bother getting up, but glared daggers at everyone. His body was already tense after having been paraded around town all day, and he looked ready to impale someone for daring to bother him.

"Sorry, he's not in a good mood today. Too many people."
More like never in a good mood...

She directed a quick, sympathetic smirk at Willis. More than anything, Perna just wanted the graduation ceremony to be over, so she could properly enjoy being a certified trainer all by herself, but she would soldier on for the time being. One more dose of healthy conversation couldn't hurt, right?
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Nothing ventured, nothing gained


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"- And that's why I'm going to become a trainer."

Silence reigned. It wasn't a silence where the recepient of the answer was brimming to the eyes with tears of joy. Nor scowls of anger. Rather, it was a detente. Unfortunately, he wasn't one for words. Willis gripped the arm rest of the old, carved hickory rocking chair for a few seconds or more before breaking the lack of conversation.

"Well, got anything to say to me?"

It was hard to believe the man sitting in front of him was The Ratel. A Blackhat Ranger. A person whose long shadow haunted him, even if they were separated routes away. Now? He was just a lowly berry farmer. A berry farmer who subsisted off disgusting Unovan Petill cigars and his numerous bottles of alcohol. Scotch. Whiskey. Beer. Spirits. There always seemed to be a bottle near to him whenever he could help it. Although, he wasn't reliant on it to the point of it being equivalent to a lifeline. Unlike so many others.

That was his father, though. On the precipice of falling from his heights, but yet, just barely hanging onto the edge.

His senior's face perched up to look at his own in an infuriatingly apathetic glance, as if he'd been dozing through the entirety of his speech. Their features were about the same. Genetically. There was the same ruggedness and angular shapes, well-defined design that been passed on by blood to him. Only that time had seperated their looks apart. He was looking at a warped reflection of himself. Well, with both arms that was. His father's hair was the color of ashen brown, peppered with flecks of grey after years of ennui in Pallet. His skin had become a coarse, leathery texture, akin to that of a Wartortle. His eyes were a cold shade of crystalline grey that were on their journey soon to become cataracts. His attire of choice was a simple get-up. A flannel shirt and mud-caked jeans from working out in their precious field all day.

The man replied back, the timbre of his voice unchanged, even after decades of ageing.

" You should have said hello to your mother before she went out to the market. Maybe, I should call her with my Tact Pad, see if she can pick up some of those Oran Berri-"

" STOP IT!"

He slammed his remaining fist on the armrest. His father paused. Great. Trying to steer away the conversation. Just when he'd tried to reach out to him. Willis ripped off his cast furiously and pointed towards his healed stump, trying to elicit some sort of reaction out of his father. Anything!

" Just....stop patronising me! I'm not a child anymore. Enough with the bullshit! Stop the stalling and tell me what you think of this. Of me. Of my decision."

He lifted the stump out more towards him, revealing the cold pale scar tissue and the fading stitches around the amputated area.

" I've tried the Ranger Corps! I've sacrificed a literal arm for their cause and all they can do is laugh at me. Compare me to you. They call me the Badger. The little fucking Badger compared to your Ratel. So, tell me. Do you support me on this! Do you?"

Willis finally collasped on his chair, his composure broken like a shattered plate on the floor as his father, Robert H Ashton remained silent through it all, stone-cold.

" Please...I need to know."

Silence. Again. When his father opened his mouth, Willis thought he was finally going to say it. That he was finally giving him permission. Handing him the keys to his own destiny. Relieving him of his own shadows.

The answer wasn't what he wanted. Nor what he didn't want at the same time.



(=0=)


Something ventured, nothing gained


(=0=)



There was a wide variety of ethnicities here. Viridian. Pallet. Fuschia. Saffron. Motherfucking Vermillion. No Cerulean, Cinnabareans or any foreigners he'd seen so far, however. No foreigner would be insane enough to come out to a mere trainer graduation party, however. Indigo still were in the works negotiating their alliances to the internationally-accepted peace ruling body that was the Concordant. The Orre Situation made the security a little tight in immigration and in a world like this, you'd have to be a rich motherfucker with a bucket of Idols and your own personal butlers to afford cross-regional transport.

Yet, people all over the world still had a desire for tourism. Despite everything that happened. Seemed that even cataclysmic events couldn't halt the curiosity of humanity. Especially tourism.

Once he made sure Thrush had calmed down to a safe level, Willis set him down back again and stood back against the wall once more. Ugh. Couldn't this sideshow be done and over with, already? If he had to bear the last 5 minutes of waiting wallowing in gossping, then, hopefully, it was good gossip. The Ranger Corps had a host of good conversation topics when they were bored. Fuck, Marry, Kill. Bets on who would win the Indigo Regional Finals. Who was the hottest celebrity trainer. Dumb trainer stories of the week. Who would win in a theoretical match-up between a Blackthorn Dragonite and a Ophanim Salamence (The most commonly bred one was the one used by the Blackthorn Clan but discussing into the details of different species was too mind-bending for Willis.)

The topics that civvies commonly talked about seemed taboo or even strange to him, after spending two years in the Corps. Discussing how cute each of their pokemon were. All of their materialistic worries were alien compared to his. Getting coupons for the next Poke-Mart summer sale. Buying that new model of whatever brand, good was out there. Talking about the political relationships between Hoenn and Sinnoh. How the stock market was doing.

He didn't care about that crap out in the Frontier. All he cared about was killing the mon and anything that could raise his morale was a plus. All of that just seemed.....beneath him now that he'd been medically discharged from the Corps.

"Perna Rockwood. This is one here is Brutus. We're from Saffron City as well."

A girl like her from Saffron? That was suspicious. Because, for one, he was hella sure that a heavily urbanized area like Saffron wouldn't play host to Tauros. Nor did her garb or overall physicality matched those of the average Saffron citizens he saw. Their mental muscles would have won them a gold star in the cerebral WWE but those bunch of pencil-necked eggheads had noodles for bodies. Or maybe he was overanalyzing. Perhaps, she'd moved in from the country to the city at a young age by parents who wanted a better life for her. Maybe, the Tauros was a trade over the Wet Market or a Trainer Mart. Didn't have to go prodding his nose more in than he had to.

"Sorry, he's not in a good mood today. Too many people."

Like any Tauros would be comfortable in a place like this. Or pokemon for that manner. For all that Rangers gabbled on about those 'damn trainers', it was a miracle that with this much mon and this much noobie trainer packed in one place that there hadn't been an incident yet. Perhaps, his faith in humanity wasn't misplaced after all. Nevertheless, it was to be expected. Tauros were naturally a rigorous and tempermental species like the bovines of old. Fickle. Irritable. Willis moved Thrush's pot away from the old Tauros unless it got any ideas.

Anyway, it seemed like the only other person he could stand being in the corner with was now engaging in conversation instead of engaging with letters. Looked like she'd succumbed to the same fate as him. The announcer overhead spoke out once more, before cutting off at the end with a electronic buzz. The trainers continued to chatter as the monotone voice of the announcement blurred with the haze of chit-chat.

" Attention, all trainers. The ceremony approximately begins in about 10 minutes. Please make sure that your pokemon are stored in your poke-balls by then and that you are properly prepared for the activities of the ceremony. Until then, please enjoy the mandatory refreshments available in the hall."

Willis rolled his eyes before musing out loud towards Perna.

" People today. Can't keep track of the time. Need announcements to do their work. Maybe, if more people could, this damn conference wouldn't take as long to begin."

He unscrewed the lid of his canteen, looking at Perna curiously before swallowing down a gulp of water.

" So, why'd you decide to come to this shindig of a graduation ceremony in the first place, anyway? Full of social hormonal teens and young adults like you and me? You seem more interested in reading those letters back there and keeping yourself quiet rather than have whatever Oak wants us to do."

Willis shook his head and gave an offhand remark towards Perna, clutching his head. Ugh. Looks like he couldn't escape the trap of socialization forever.

" Well, guess I can't judge you since I've been doing that crap as well. Ranger with one arm signing up to be a trainer. Why don't you write that story to one of your pen-pals?"



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Wet Market - One of the official colloqiual terms for the section of the underground Black-Market that primarily operates in dealing rare and undocumented wild and trained pokemon to trainers. It has been rumoured among the League community and all League officials have tried to crack down on any illegal, unsanctioned League trading of wild mon but so far, the Wet Market has remained elusive.


Ophanim Salamences - Ophenim Salamences are a breed of Hunter-Killer genetically augmented Salamences that are primarily used for Miltary operations to defend strategic Military outposts from terrorist attacks. The question of whether Ophenim Salamences are reliable has been debated thoroughly in the Indigo Provincial Congress for some time now, due to the dragon's species innate trait for pre-mediated violence.



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