Recent Statuses

4 mos ago
Current therapy sounds like a good investment
1 like
8 mos ago
everyone shut up im playing kingdom hearts 3
11 mos ago
back on my bullshit!
12 mos ago
hmm i should get back into this rp thing...
2 yrs ago
1 like


i like to rp. that's really all there is to say.

Most Recent Posts

Haven sat in one of Lavaridge's parks, stretching out under the sun. Goddamn, it was hot. Of course, the sweater she refused to take off didn't help. Her arm was still wrapped to hide the scars that she wasn't quite used to.

She'd been in Lavaridge for nearly a week. She'd spent a good three quarters of that time regretting it. Haven hated crowds, and Lavaridged was about as packed as an overpriced music concert -- except instead of buzzed 20-somethings clamouring to get some low-quality video with the sound blown out, it was a bunch of traumatized, bored, irritated refugees. Haven needed to get out of this damn town.

Of course, there'd been one upside: the hotsprings. They were normally too full to enjoy, but the two times that Haven'd actually managed to get in had been pure bliss. And of course, the time in the warm sand had helped to officially add a new member to their little family.

She'd hatched yesterday: a tiny yellow and white ball of fluff that buzzed around her head in happy little circles. She was something called a Cutiefly, apparently. One of the old men who'd witnessed the hatching had spent some years in Alola, where they were usually found. She'd spent her first few seconds of life trying to hold herself up in the shifting sand, fluttering her fresh wings and kicking up dusty particles. The moment she'd figured out how to fly, she'd taken off, zipping around Haven's head, between her other pokemon, to different flowers until she was absolutely covered in pollen, to different laughing strangers, then back to Haven again.

Her name was Dust.

Everyone was in love with her, naturally. Blink doted on her, delighting in producing harmless powder for her to zip through. Lace was excited to have another playmate, the two chasing each other this way and that. Cloak enjoyed teasing her with flowers, pulling them out for her only to hide them as soon as she got close. But it was Dagger who seemed to take the strongest to their newest family member -- Haven chalked it up to the fact that they were both fairy types.

Haven... wasn't quite sure how she felt about the little pokemon yet. Her emotions were a swirl of responsibility and trauma and protectiveness that --

A figure stepped out of the shadows and approached her. She tensed. But she didn't jump out of her skin and shrink behind her pokemon like she would've a week ago. Her pokemon all stilled in their game, just happening to place themselves loosely around their trainer. Haven looked up to see who it was.

Standing before her was a teenage girl, tall, with straight brown hair and green eyes. An Espeon was close by, its tail wrapping up around her leg. She fidgeted, sadness in her eyes as she spoke. Movement in the air caught Haven's eyes and she glanced up to see Dust, predictably, zipping over to inspect the girl. Dust did one quick revolution around the girl's head as she spoke, and then...

Came back to Haven.

That was unexpected.

In the short time she'd been alive, Dust had proven herself to be an empathetic little thing, sensitive to the emotions of everyone around her. If someone was angry, she did her best to avoid them. If they were happy, she flew around them incessantly, reveling in their joy, even landing on them and trying to poke at them with her tiny little mouth as if she'd mistaken them for flowers. And if they were scared or sad, she stuck close by them and nuzzled at them, buzzing in concerned circles.

So that this girl stood before them, nervous and on the verge of tears... that her Espeon looked so distraught, and Dust didn't react at all...

Haven filed it away in her mind. It was odd, to say the least. She held up a finger and Dust landed on it, tapping at her skin every now and then with her mouth. Haven looked back up to the girl.

"Uh, sorry," she responded. "You're gonna have to be more specific. I've met a lot of people lately."
Location: Armadillo


Temp pressed her lips together, her fire already starting to cool as Roz reprimanded her. Guilt was a small, quiet thing that crawled up her throat. Roz was... she was good to her. Patient. Gave her more chances than she shoulda.

Roz was fretting over the cut that Temp had already forgotten about. Temp clenched her jaw to hold back her immediate response – that she’d made it this long without a mother and didn’t need one now. She breathed out slow. Roz didn’t deserve that.

”Ya didn’t exactly hire me for my customer service skills,” she mumbled half heartedly. She took the towel and ice from her boss before Roz could even attempt to treat her. ”...Sorry. Won’t shout unless someone deserves it.” Her voice was soft, tempering some of her usual gruffness. Temp looked down at the towel in her hand, the ice’s chill already starting to seep through it. She tapped it twice against her other hand, listening to the rattle of ice. ”I cost you customers, take it out of my pay or cut me loose.” She glanced up at Roz for the briefest of moments.

Then she moved past her, back towards the front of the saloon. ”Bar’s unmanned,” she mumbled. She pressed the towel up to her brow for Roz’s sake, feeling the ice bite into her skin.

Back in the front, Temp moved to the bar. Her eyes found the woman she’d snapped at. Temp gave a quiet sigh. Looked away. Back at the woman. ”What’ll ya have?” It was the closest she was going to get to an apology.
Location: Armadillo


Temp glanced up at the figure approaching the bar. She raised her eyebrow at the runt, already reaching for a water-spotted glass to get her some water, when a man butted in. Temp’s eyes narrowed at the implication that she'd give a kid liquor. Snatching the money with more force than necessary, she opened her mouth to tell the bastard off when --


Temp's eyes widened, adrenaline immediately spiking. Her hand was quick to find the wooden bat stashed under the bar, and then she was jumping over it to follow the man out the door. She stopped though, in the doorway. Guns were already drawn. A short series of shots. Then there were two new bodies dropped to the ground, to join the two that were already there. Temp's stomach churned. Four growing pools of crimson blood stained the dusty ground. Death. There was something in her gut like nausea... like fear. Then the man from the bar -- the only man left standing -- turned, and all of Temp's emotions were pushed down, remolded into something easier for her to process.

She glared. Temp spun n her heel and stomped back to the bar, walking behind it properly instead of vaulting over it. She all but threw the bat back down under the bar. She grabbed the large bottle of lemonade that rested against the back wall and poued it into the glass she'd set down in front of the kid, wondering how hard she'd have to hit someone in the head with it to drop 'em. The man returned and if Temp could've set the bar on fire with her gaze, then she reckoned she would've been seeing smoke by now. She capped the bottle and slammed it down.

"You killed them, you get the damned preacher," she all but spat at the man. Makes a fucking mess and can't even bother to clean it up. Anger bubbled in Temp's blood. Her hand snapped out to grab the empty glass from his hand and drop it roughly on the counter behind the bar.

"What?" she suddenly demanded of the new face that had perched itself in front of her.
holy shit it's finally Done.

progress is being made, i swear.

ignore this for now, i'm just posting it as i work on it so i don't have to worry about losing the image links

you say pokemon, i come running. i'll get my cs up in the next couple days!
Location: Armadillo

Son of a half-cocked horse fucker, fuck fuck fuckfuckfuck--

Temp barelled through the streets of Armadillo, dust billowing up from her feet like smoke off an open fire.

"For fuck's sake, move!" she shouted at a frail old woman, laden down with packages of groceries. The old woman blinked up blearily behind her glasses, just in time to see Temp dodge around her and continue down the road. Forty-seven seconds of sprinting later, the door to the Armadillo Saloon opend and in crashed a short figure with a flop of short, messy hair, a collared shirt and a waistcoat, and a scabbed over cut at the eyebrow with a purple-green blossom of a bruise sprouting around it.

Temp ran past her boss (Ahh, shit-balls.) to the bar, placed a hand on top of it, and vaulted over to the other side, barely stopping herself from ramming into the liquor cabinet... too hard. Glass bottles rattled precariously...

And then a full bottle of amber whiskey toppled over.

Temp's eyes widened. "Shit!--" Her hand shot out to catch the bottle just in time, turning it quickly in her hand to slam it upright on the bar behind her.

Temp's entire body sagged in relief. Her chest heaved up and down, lungs fighting for air.

There was the sound of a single pair of hands clapping beside her. Temp looked up to glare from under her hair at her coworker, Jessie.

"Not late," Temp muttered.

Jessie raised an eyebrow. "Yeah? Suppose 's why you were so leisurely in gettin' here then."

Temp opened her mouth to tell Jessie to shove it up her daddy's piss-hole. But then she saw Roz's figure out of the corner of her eye. She snapped her mouth shut and turned to the nearest customer, still panting from the run.

There was a whisp of a girl on the other side of the counter, delicate fingers worrying each other, and eyes looking at the ground, the bar, the ceiling... anywhere but at another person. Temp's eyes softened a bit. She recognized the girl -- some stray Roz'd taken in like an underfed cat. She had some.... dumb flowery name. Daffodile or Pansy or something.

"Need somethin'?" Temp blurted. The little flower jumped at the words.

"The, uh... Miss Roz says I need to..." Temp sighed and rolled her eyes, though it was more for show than any actual annoyance.

"Jess," Temp said over her shoulder, interrupting Jessie's conversation with a customer. Jessie stopped and shot a mild glare back at her. "Go show the new girl where the food's at."

"There a reason you can't do that?"

"Someone needs to serve drinks that don't taste like piss." Jessie scowled, but pushed herself up from the bar nonetheless. She paused though, as she passed by Temp, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Keep an eye out," she murmured. "Somethin' in the air today got everyone rowdier than normal." Temp nodded, moving to put the bottle of whiskey back up on the shelf. "Come on sweetness, let's put some fat on ya," Jessie said to the new girl, leading her back towards the kitchen.
© 2007-2017
BBCode Cheatsheet