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Post by Harper Mann on Jun 12, 2014 16:07:17 GMT -5
Stupid bird! She wanted to punch him in the beak! Then she’d make him eat that stupid wite stick around! He didn’t have any teeth at all, not a single one, he would have a hard time with that! The featherball had told on her! All she did was take an extra ladle out of the soup bowl---it didn’t even have anything but carrots in it! Those beady eyes had seen her and the alarm went off with a raucous caw. She made sure to swallow all of that food right in front of him too, navy eyes were narrowed to angry slits. “I didn’t do nothing wrong! It was all Sally that did it!” A poorly aimed kick, meant to send the little annoyance on its fat ugly nose, nearly upended the little girl.
Above her, floating in the gloom, her Castform nuzzled her. “I was jus’ ‘ungry, Moo—that’s all! Harper did more than any of those stupid big ‘uns anyway—why do they get more?” The little weatherball just continued to nuzzle her dust-streaked cheeks. It was the mark of warfare—if you happened to be a somewhat morally confused six year old. Fingers balled into fists. The bird was approaching her father. Each thwack against the concrete, cracked and rotting, echoed across the room.
Across te room, golden eyes closed, an elderly Liepard was prodded into wakefulness. With a groan, limping on a shattered back leg, he unfurled his supple form. “Hm?” The single-word question, which barely qualified as a word, was the only audible thing. Spoon after spoon of off-color soup, it was somewhere between white and green, was thrown into the confines of her throat. It didn’t matter! She was already in trouble!
The blue-haired girl beamed at the Liepard—as if he was a plant in need of energy. She ran towards him. It was rare, without someone tattling, that she spent much time with him anymore. Her tongue prodded out to lick at liquid on the side of her cheeks—it tasted like shoes. She had eaten a shoe once. Harper doubted her father would care! They had plenty of food! She was his special little lady—she played the game the best, cleaned his fur the best, and told the best stories. “Harper. You were told not to take anymore of that soup, were you not?” The velvety voice lulled her into security as she paused, looked around for someone else to blame, and gave a single nod. “Yes, poppa, I was—but I was ‘un-“
Thwack! She blinked back tears as crimson rolled down the right side of her face. Words, filtered and left ignored due to pain, were screamed into her wide eyes. “Now you have to pay me back—you will have no playtime today. Find me something useful..watches mayhaps, or a measuring cup for your insolence..” Quivering, giving a solitary nod, she ducked outside.
Two hours later, trudging down the street with a sore face, her pain and sadness turned to what anger a child could muster—which could be quite a lot. She would show that bird! While she had already won her goals of the game, three expensive watches rested at the base of her bag, she had time! If she couldn’t play anyway, or do anything fun, she could do some other things! She could show that stupid Farfetch’d who was better! She deserved to be daddy’s best friend, not the stupid little turkey!
She ducked into an alley she knew to be heavily populated by Pokemon. She heard noises from here and was often told to avoid it. She balled her fists together as she gestured Cumulus ahead of her down the street. “We’re going to get a new friend—“ She grinned devilishly. “Then we’ll eat that birdy right up!”
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Anya
OOC ACCOUNT
It would be so nice if something made sense for a change.
Posts: 119
OOC Name:: Anya
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Post by Anya on Jun 12, 2014 21:50:59 GMT -5
It was a fact that many pokémon called home to theses streets. For all different reasons, the beings wondered into the alley, the lack of humans making it perfect a place for them to live. The creatures could be heard, skittering about and digging through the trash the happened to be thrown there. The scaps never seemed to last long, playing by the rules of first come first serve. Most of them had to turn to other means, such as thievery or even to the different measures. However, one thing was certain. Humans were something most the beings were unsure of and they hardly wandered into here without purpose. Many of pokémon living here did not trust them. It was as if Harper's presence itself brought the silence of the usually skittering alleyway. Until a certain pair broke the quietness.
A trash can, once propped correctly on its flat bottom, had been tipped over. A loud crash following with it, echoing throughout the alley as it rolled a bit before coming into contact with a torn up trash bag. The Plusle and Minun behind it seemed shocked, the two of them leaning on it with a bit too much with curiosity to the newcomer had cause the fall of the metal can. They traded glances with one another, both of them wearing an expression that clouded their small features with a tinge of worry. And soon enough, two sets of tiny dirtied paws patted against the streets, trying to make getaway from the sight of the human girl and her 'pet'. Quick on their feet, but out of breath, the pair made their way under a tattered cardboard box. Four corners hugging them close and a odd smell that seem to emit from the square-shapped item.
"This is your fault!" the blue electic-type scolded in a whisper, eyes narrowing in the dark box. And to the accusation, the Plusle frowned at her brother. "How so? You're to blame!" When truthfully, they knew it was both of their faults. It was on habit that they pointed fingers to the other, saying it was the opposite's fault. "No, you're the one who wanted to come here and scout for food. I'm the one who's innocent!" His voiced raised slightly, no longer a hashed tone. "If we went to the bakery, then that old geezer would chase us off with a broom! I have enough bruises!" The small pastry shop was often robbed by these two and the man running it just about had enough of their thieving. Scaring them off with the cheap cleaning tool, getting a few good hits on the rodent pokémon. "Whatever, just be quiet." Folding his arms, the creature heard his sister mutter something beneath her breath. Nonetheless, the two were quiet now. Realizing they were attracting more attention to themselves in their little hiding spot. For a moment, the silence took over agian. It did not last long. "Maybe they left?" With saying that, the Plusle leaned her head against the box's wall. Trying to listen for any footsteps and sounds. WILD POKÉMON APPEARED!Plusle & Minun have been wondering in the Slums! TAGGED: Harper MannNOTES: Whoop. First post as Mod. WORDS: 513
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Post by Harper Mann on Jun 13, 2014 16:49:09 GMT -5
The little girl wished she was a Pokemon most days! Then she could be just like daddy—graceful, strong, and handsome. Though, if she was one, she might ask not to be born so grumpy. She just blamed it all on the little ball of brown feathers. Her father would never harm her without dummies provoking him with nonsense! She was the best!
What was good against birds? Daddy would not like another cat. She didn’t know where to go to get a bigger and scarier bird—like those ones made out of tin-cans with the pink feathers and long talons. Who sold those funny two-headed birds with the squabbling necks and long legs? For a child, especially a six year old, her thoughts of punishments were rather disturbing. Her language, which was occasionally punctuated with a naughty word, was no less worrying—to a normal adult. Fried. Toasted. Eaten. Hit with an entire bed full of pillows and then mistaken as one. The bitter and dark thoughts made her cheek feel less hurt. The Castform above her, dipping occasionally to nuzzle her cheek, felt horrid for the thing. Why could he not say anything to help free her from this horrid life? “ D : D : ; ^;” The third touch to her cheek was met with a somewhat annoyed puff of the cheeks. “I am fine Moo! I ain’t a baby! I ain’t gonna bawl!” He backed off at those words.
His dark eyes caught a flicker of silver as the garbage can collapsed into the street. Garbage, ranging from rotten banana peels to something with the stench of dirty diaper, cascaded across the alleyway in a tidal wave. The top rolled off to the opposite side of the alleyway. Thinking it to be a dog—those were still predators—Cumulus moved protectively in front of his little friend. The nervous bob of his throat as he swallowed, vomiting when you were encased in a ball of gel was rarely pleasant. “ ! “ He shifted into a raindrop as he waited for an attack. “….” Instead of a rabid Houndoom behind the curtain, which was a plastic bag, were two little rodents.
The blue-haired girl was disinterested for a moment. She wanted something scary! She wanted a dragon! She did not want a mouse. Arms folded over her chest as she glared and sighed. Why couldn’t they change into something useful? Then she remembered seeing little cream-colored beings like this on a store television once—they were double-teaming a flock of big birds. Her eyes sparkled. The second she saw pink, in the form of a tail on the Plusle, her eyes lit up as if it was a fireworks show. “I didn’t want something ugly anyway—“ Fingers tightened around the old Pokeball she had found stuck in a grate ages ago. “Don’t run away! I have candy! Come back!” Nodding with determination to Cumulus, pointing down the alleyway, she raced after the little mice. “Harper’s good at hide and go seek! You’re gonna lose!”
Her friend, with a sigh, followed behind. He hated fighting. Regardless, he hated to see her cry, the normal-type raced after the two little rodents. The smell of garbage, luckily for him, was not scented—he lacked a nose. The cardboard box drew into focus. Harper raced up behind it, quietly moving from garbage pile to garbage pile. Like a hawk about to swoop down, perched behind the box and in its shadow, the little girl waited. “We didn’t leave! We want to battle!” She wanted the pink one! Daddy could have the blue one! It was perfect! “I’ll just pick you up otherwise!”
The Castform sighed. Why hadn’t she asked him what he wanted to d—oh, that was right. He could not answer, even if he wanted to. Deciding to play along, he nodded in determination for his future victory. I really hate fighting poor little kids.
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Anya
OOC ACCOUNT
It would be so nice if something made sense for a change.
Posts: 119
OOC Name:: Anya
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Post by Anya on Jun 16, 2014 2:47:52 GMT -5
The Plusle obviously found something that caught her attention, ears twitching slightly as if to listen more carefully. Along with the set of footsteps, the small creature heard something very interesting. "That human says she has candy!" The statement was hardly in a whisper, practically on the borderline of one. Her brother gestering his paw over his lip, eyes narrowing on the stupid comment. "Candy is a lie. She's lyin' right through her teeth. Trying to trick us." His sister was too naive, someone easy to fall for another's tricks. Especially at the mention of food, any type of it. The Plusle's belly talked for her at most times, growling constantly for a bite to eat. With a pout, the pink creature sat up with a frown painted on her lips. No longer wanting to hear in on the "lies" the human spouted. Her brother was right, he always was. Humans are not to be trusted. Never ever. They had proof to uphold that. Each bruise and scar reflected on the cruel beings.
The box seemed to close in on the brother and sister, being forced to hide here was something neither of them wanted. It was smelly and had little room to move around in. It wasn't fun, not in the least. Dark, pressing against their small bodies, and almost eerie when the two weren't talking. Though, the pair was very well used to the stench of the streets, they hardly minded that much of the situation. It was purely the fact that they had to take shelter in this tattered box. They should have just fled on all fours to safety. Which in their minds, did not define a cardboard box. Sure, maybe it hid them for sight by eyes, but if someone were to lift up the item by hands... Well, hopefully, the two rodent's luck was still in tack. If they even have any. "Do you think they've left now?" For her, a whole decade has passed, when in reality it had been no longer than a few minutes. And after a dragged out sigh, her brother replied. "No." Surprisingly, an augment did not arise this time. It was quiet. Something these two hardly ever accomplished. Neither of them liked it. Plusle & Minun still take shelter in a box!
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Post by Harper Mann on Jun 17, 2014 22:41:32 GMT -5
A broken lollipop rested in her front-most pocket; little shards of sugar. An unwrapped gumball, which happened to have a few cat hairs clinging to its surface, was rolled into a holy pocket on the back of the ‘dress’. The coloration of this one did not match the rest of the dress. It was just a tiny navy bandanna hastily sewn into a little hammock for whatever she desired aside from her winnings from the game. Nothing aside from the gumball rested in its embrace at the moment; the rest of it had fallen out along the way. “Why didn’t it work!? It’s candy—!“ The hissing, while whispered to her ears, was likely deafening to the little cowering rodents. It really was a lie. She had fought hard to keep what little she had from the piranhas at home; her ‘brothers’ and ‘sisters’ were rarely the type that gave without recompense Harper was more likely to receive a bloody nose than so much as the tiniest smidgen of outward affection. She might even lose her fancy new pocket rather quickly too.
“Harper ain’t lying through her teeth! I got candy!” She also happened to be lacking a few front teeth to lie through—she wasn’t being bad; the little thing just liked to view it as stretching the truth.One petulant foot stamped down on the ground. The impact between concrete and six-year old resulted in one victor: the ground. She yelped and stumbled back clutching at her foot. A variety of word deemed inappropriate for most adults, much less children, spilled from her mouth. It was followed by an insult of her own. “You dumb things don’t like candy!? I bet you like birds too!” It was spt out with such venom that it had to be an insult in her little language. I am gonna get you, you stupid mice. Just like that cat Thomas in those cartoons Dad mentions all the time She turned to the Castform with a raised eyebrow. “Why ain’t candy working?” Cumulus would have difficulties avoiding that question for a third time.
The Castform, questioned about the lack of allure in candy, just blinked. That junk is bad for you! He could not say that. He could not reach down and smack any sugary things from his charge’s hand---he lacked fingers or appendages. Finally, bobbing slowly up, he gave his version of a noncommittal shrug. “…. : ) “ His smile was sheepish and a bit out of place. “You’re no help! Stupid balloon!” He nuzzled her cheek once before she took a threatening step towards the box—her grin was more wicked than a cat mere inches from an oblivious bird. Don’t you dare bother them! She just smirked at her supervisor. For a moment she had the countenance of a little robin-haired angel—maybe for just a second.
Too late! She wanted that pink one! It was cute! It liked candy! It was all her hers. Grubby hands, coated in everything from grease to dried blood, tightened around the Pokeball.
The devilish smirk—missing only the pitchfork—rocketed once again to the surface. Pale and chapped lips pulled upward with that dark expression. She heard the squeaking from inside the little prison of sodden paper. I got you! He’s right! I’m not gone! She slid her foot forward and kicked the box over with her foot. She felt like some sort of monstrous “Cumulus! Get ‘em! They’ll get a stupid bird!” The Castform, frowning down at the little babies, decided to play dumb. “ … ?” Get who? I have no idea what you’re talking about! Cool gel, his body, gently slid against her face and blocked her view.
“Get offa me! I want a new friend—a scary friend!” She wanted something with spunk! No! She wanted something with spark.
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