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6 dogs, 7 female dogs
4 (or some say 6) golden-horned deer
60 Okeanids (a choir)
20 Amnisiades (handmaidens to tend her bow and hounds)
3 Nymphai Hyperboreiai (Oupis - aim, Loxo - trajectory, Hekaerge - distancing, presidents of the aspects of archery)
Joined: 24-April 17
Last Seen: Oct 13 2017, 08:49 AM
Local Time: Oct 18 2017, 10:01 PM
191 posts (1.1 per day)
( 2.64% of total forum posts )
Oct 11 2017, 07:03 PM
((A continuation of Travel Light
. Mid-late summer time, late morning. Just entering from the Western Forest. Hoping to find some Deerling with Nyra and possibly befriending them.))"I think we've crossed some kind of line,"
Cynthia spoke matter of factly as she hoisted her bag higher on her shoulder and continued walking. "The trees have been getting thinner, and a little... different. The air is less humid. We are probably entering the forest you were talking about where all the Deerling live."
She glanced at her companion, Nyra. The young woman seemed to be quite friendly, albeit somewhat timid. She couldn't help but smile; Nyra was right. A Deerling would fit her perfectly.
She peered out from the path into the trees, wondering what kind of Pokemon they'd come across here. In the rainy jungle-forest they had just left, they'd found... a rather large amount of powerful Pokemon that they had no chance of surviving an encounter with. Maybe, just maybe, they'd find something their own size here.
Amnisiad, meanwhile, was still lost in thought. She tumbled the parting words of the Oranguru they'd met over and over in her brain as she struggled with the deep sense of longing she felt. It wasn't even the words themselves; it was the tone of voice and the sense of wisdom behind them. She wanted that back. Cynthia was a good friend, but she was not a mother. Not in the slightest. A leader, a companion, yes. But not a mother. And Amnisiad... she felt so small. So young. Perhaps she shouldn't have left home yet. She gazed sadly straight ahead of her. Which happened to be right at Nyra. But she wasn't actually seeing anything.
Oct 10 2017, 06:24 PM
"Miss, you can't be h-" the man found himself doubled over in pain as a sharp thwack struck his midsection.
"Get out of my way!" screamed a hysterical voice. "You can't take him!" the speaker thrashed forward, a thick, half-carved stick in her hand that she brandished at anyone who came close to her.
"Calm down. It's too late. He's already gone."
"NO!" she shrieked, and she tried to shove her way past the policeman, but he was prepared for her onslaught. His Growlithe leaped out of thin air, appearing in a flash of white light. He grabbed the wooden baton in between his sharp teeth, and crunched down on it. It promptly shattered under the pressure of his jaws, splintering into three useless pieces, two of which thudded to the soft dirt beneath their feet. "Let me in! I have to see him!" she demanded, her shaking hand still grasping one of the splinters of wood.
"No," the policeman responded flatly. "Trust me, you don't want to see him like this."
A man and his Machoke, both wearing medical masks and white gloves, emerged from the house, one after the other. The man was leading a stretcher, though it was clear all the work was being done by the Pokemon. At the heels of a Machoke was a whimpering Poochyena, its ears drooping and its usually fierce red eyes taking on a pathetic sheen.
"Why are you taking him? You can't!" she made to jump towards the stretcher-bearers, but the Growlithe resolutely stood in her way. "Get. Out. Of. My way!" she snarled at the K-9, raising her fist, still clenched around the wood.
"Miss, please don't threaten the police," the man spoke sharply and rose to his full height, towering over the teenage girl.
She was still not deterred, "I said go away!" and she rushed forward, thrusting the blunt pointed stick at the dog, who ducked out of the way. But the Growlithe wasn't retreating. In perfect sync with the Pokemon's movement, the policeman, with surprising agility, darted forward. As the girl struck out, the Pokemon, to her surprise, had actually ducked towards her, causing her to fall forward. The policeman caught her before she fell on her own makeshift weapon fragment, and promptly snatched the small stake of wood from her hands, twisting it until it was pried loose from her fingers and tossing it away.
The stretcher was being carried away now, into the back of an ambulance. "Stop!" her voice raised to a scream once again and she struggled in the policeman's grasp. "You have to stop!" her chest was heaving with effort and choked-back sobs as she stared desperately at the truck that was bearing her friend away. Her vision swam with darkness as she continued her valiant effort to kick free, and a wordless scream tore from her oxygen-deprived lungs until she was aware of nothing.
Sep 19 2017, 09:08 PM
To be a disco ball dangling in a storefront window, in the sun, with a cage on it...
- Emmy Perez
An endless tide of people paraded through the fair. There was a small live band, jangling out a few rusty tunes, and there was Paul. Uninvited, unannounced, he found himself at their forefront, helping himself to the attention and music. He started out not knowing the songs, but he learned fast. Within an hour, he had heard enough of their music, learned enough of their patterns, that he could see the music floating out into the air before they even played it. So here he was, singing alongside the band, throwing his heart and soul into every note.
He was in front of the crowds, his body and soul on display for every pair of prying eyes to see, and it was the greatest thrill he knew. He felt more joy than he had felt in an entire lifetime. He was a jewel in a display case, a feather on a bird's mating plumage, a man in the spotlight.
After nearly an entire day of singing, though, his voice was finally beginning to give out. With a bow to those who had bothered to stop and watch the band rather than continue scurrying on their business through the fair, he descended from the stage. He looked into the crowd, golden in the setting sun, and his face was bright and radiant with joy and... peace. Above all, his expression was one of peace and contentment, that he almost never displayed to such a degree. He almost always had a hungry look to him, a wolfish, boyish look, eyes darting and face quizzical as he searched for his desire. But right now, in this moment, he seemed sated. He sat down heavily on a chair set up near the stage, smiling at passerby.@Amissa
Sep 19 2017, 03:12 PM
Their sons grow suicidally beautiful
At the beginning of October,
And gallop terribly against each other’s bodies.
- James Wright
Paul met the sight before him with disdain. The training grounds were rather quiet today, and he was hardly surprised. Who would want to be spending a lovely late-summer day here? Still, he had moved to Crater City in part because he heard of a gathering of people seeking to better themselves and their Pokemon. He figured he should at least visit the training grounds provided to that end. After all, moving here had given him a discount or something, hadn't it?
His gaze roamed idly across the field. The mud pit would simply not do at all. The targets and dummies... He could've sworn he saw some of those dummies move, and he didn't like that much. No, he suspected he'd do his best to keep his distance from them, unless he absolutely had to go over there.
Obstacles seemed like a much better way to train for the kind of thing that Paul was interested in anyways, like agility and dancing. Speaking of dancing... he reached into his pocket and pulled out the Pokeball, examining it for a second. The red, smooth sheen of the sphere gave him a brief pause. Like a gem in the rough, he felt the need to see it... improved. It had potential, and he would be loathe to allow it to go to waste. "Can I be of assistance?"
A light, silvery tone interrupted his thoughts, and his heart skipped a beat as he turned to see a beautiful woman with strikingly deep blue eyes. "I'm a Peace Officer working the training grounds. My job is to help people get the most out of training here,"
she explained, mistaking Paul's wide-eyed expression for one of confusion.
His breath was taken away. He had never seen someone so beautiful. He needed her. Finally he came to his senses and responded, "A Peace Officer? Oh my, I'm afraid I mistook you for an angel. Forgive my staring, miss...?"
The young woman blushed slightly, a rosy tinge gracing the porcelain of her pale face, "Oh... Um... Thank you...? Sylvana. You can call me Sylvana. Please don't call me miss, though... I... It's a little strange.""As you wish, Sylvana,"
Paul gave a dazzling smile as he turned up his bewitching charm. "It's my first time out on the training fields. I must say, I've been missing out, if you work here. I'll have to drop by more often."
Somewhat flustered, and unsure of what to do with this development, Sylvana hesitated, an awkward straining in the back of her throat as she struggled with how to respond with this intense attention. Sensing he was coming on too strongly, Paul looked away, returning to examining his Pokeball. After a moment of calculated pause, he spoke, "It's time to dance, Melete."
He tossed the sphere before him in a graceful arc. It hit the ground and bounced back to his hand, where he deftly caught it out of the air with ease. Appearing in a flash of light, the Oricorio stretched his wings to the sky and let out a triumphant cry of its name.
He fluffed his feathers as he returned to a neutral stance, then looked out across the field. Mud as far as the eye could see. With a look of disdain, he turned to his trainer, "What in the name of... Why are we here?""Don't sound so offended, Melete. Sylvana, I'd like you to meet my partner, Melete. Melete, this is Sylvana. She'll be helping us out."
Sylvana gave a small smile and a wave to the pale purple bird. She had to admit, he looked quite good. It was evident that the man took good care of his Pokemon, which she appreciated. Paul waved towards the wooden poles. "Show us how quick you are on your feet, won't you? Weave between those poles."
Melete hesitated. This didn't sound like something he wanted to do, honestly. As the bird held still, Paul urged, "Come on. It'll be training to be stronger and more agile, too. You want that, don't you?"
Finally, Melete made up his mind. Choosing a line of poles that had about two feet of space between them, he dashed towards it. He came running at it straight on, but when he was a few feet away from the first pole, he veered to the left a little bit.
Sep 11 2017, 08:13 PM
Cynthia and Amnisiad returned to the jousting arena for another round. She had lost the previous one pretty badly, but that was alright. Despite how much they wished they could be in it for the glory and the win, both of the partners were aware that they were really in it for the practice, and didn't particularly expect to be winning. But maybe, if they managed to meet an opponent as young and inexperienced as Amnisiad herself...
"Back again, eh? Still no opponents? I suppose you're still just too friendly and kind to have found an opponent all by yourself in the last few hours. Tell ya what, sit yourself down over there, and I'll help you out again, okay?" Naut gave a small wink to Cynthia, which instantly put her on edge.
"Yeah... Thanks..." she spoke tersely, growing increasingly suspicious of his apparent friendliness towards her. She looked away and idly glowered at the nearest tree. As always, she kept an eye out for any bug Pokemon, though she wasn't even sure what she'd do if she saw one right before she was called up to joust. She supposed she could cancel the joust... Would that count as a lose? Would that be shameful to do? Or would the people be grateful that she was pausing her own activities to further their hunt for Bug Pokemon?
Amnisiad fluffed her feathers fretfully. Even though she had agreed to this, she was not looking forward to the world of hurt that she was likely to be exposed to once again.