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Post by Aubre Ellen McKenna on Aug 28, 2013 0:35:36 GMT -5
The laughter was Aubre’s reaction—it sounded like a bell. The dragon found none of this overly funny; he bristled just the tiniest bit as his trainer’s mind began to question her thoughts. Was she being scolded? Aubre was not certain with her aunt—those stern features, joking or not, retained some of their seriousness most of the time. Should the lizard have a bedtime? Was it wrong that, as long as he did not drag a mariachi band into the apartment, that the redhead let him stay up to al hours of the night? Mischa’s giggling, as the kitten knew her aunt’s recent temperament better than her niece, relaxed the high-strung young lady a tiny bit. She tried to calm both sides (as the blue-eyed dragon was glaring moodily up at her aunt). Aubre was mousy in many ways: “Y-yes, he can get a bit mouthy sometimes—for which I apologize. He just b-believes in free speech. He w-won’t be any trouble without one, we won’t be here a-all night” Was her aunt truly just kidding? If so, as to cover all of the potential bases, Aubre offered a carefree grin (which looked a bit like a grimace) to accompany the earlier giggles. It seemed a better idea to act as if her aunt was being serious then to rely on humor that might not exist. The image of her trying to tuck Alister in—using her belt as a strap—amused her more than anything (as she never could have done it).
The machines had scared her when she awoke. Her mind had transformed them into something scary. The smell had hit her first---as her eyes had been covered. For a few moments, Aubre had thought herself blind. The memories of that night had swam back slowly—the hospital could only dull the physical pain. Lips pulled up in a smile, no matter how sad and broken: “Y-yes, I was a horrible k-kid, it w-would have taken t-three of you—I w-wasn’t that bad, Alister, I was trying to make a j-joke…” The slight sadness in her voice just blunted most of the humor. How much trouble had she needlessly caused her mother after that attack? Why was she not given the chance to apologize to the tiny and fiery woman who loved her so much? Better times were somehow hard to find in the darkness—the first thing she always remembered was the smell of smoke and laughing eyes. “O-oh, no! It w-would never do that—I a-appreciate it, truly, I mean it…” The woman appreciated a lot of things more now; she had peered into death and came back. She had nearly killed herself. Her family being gone made her realize just how big a piece of her they were. Just being accepted meant a lot more. Aubre just could no longer value herself—she had known herself when truly broken and did not like that person.
The dark-haired woman truly seemed to have lost any of her anger, annoyance, and bite over the subject. Aubre hoped her apology had not sounded forced or contrite—the word ‘overdue’, associated with movies and library books, was likely a bad choice. When the snake first spoke, his words only caught without their tone, the orange-haired girl flinched. He was joking: “I a-am not exactly the life of the party, N-nico….” The temptation to crack a funny about ‘being the favorite’ was high on her list she threw it aside as the blue eyes across from her tossed a somewhat annoyed glare at the old snake. Aubre would do anything not to irritate the fiery woman. The woman would have returned the squeeze—if she could have reached anything that was not awkward. The nod would have to suffice.
Her own Pokemon knew the feelings of loneliness; this week, while the job loss had torn up Aubre and left her feeling useless, the time had brought back a lot of close bonds. She had spent most of her week trying to fix what had been broken. Sixty hours a week left little time for training, games, and free-time. The unemployment, while the redhead would deny it, had done good things. The aunt’s joke with the snake made her niece smile—nearly as much as the pictures. He seemed as easygoing as ever. The missing pictures were noted dully; the emerald gaze kept drifting to the picture with her parents in it. She had nearly forgotten how her mother smiled, adored pink lipstick, or how tiny she was. Was her father really that tall? The time had come for chatter and facing less happy times and damned dark thoughts.
The tears just flowed, bidden or not. She knew that Lenore would have what she needed: caring, nurturing, and compassion. That less-than-stern side had been viewed at her bedside a hundred times in that hospital room. They looked the same now. It frightened and made her feel less alone. It made her feel like a complete idiot: “I w-wish I hadn’t tried----it hurt.” The girl could not see the peace through the storm; the sun had been covered with a dark screen of fears, dreading, and self-hate. The tears had washed away the tiniest bit of that—allowing her to see, for a short time, the woman in front of her. The letters should have been opened sooner. Her arms, anxious for the embrace, should have opened quickly. They did not want to let go—whether it was this hug or running from her aunt again. The silence on that apology was the best choice; it was not something that Lenore, alive and present, could respond to. The matter of the mucus cover shirt was a different pony: :It w-was still a v-very nice shirt…” A laugh, a famialr one, forced its way out. Aubre felt that she would have bought fifteen shirts for this moment (as they wore the same size, or close to, that was easy to do). Fingertips gently pulled the tissue as she wiped at her nose. The gestures were small and gentle. The snot within, no matter how close it was to spilling out lie water from a faucet, was left alone. Aubre had no desire to disgust her aunt. She mouthed the words ‘thank you’ as she dabbed at the corners of both eyes.
Her aunt had taken it surprisingly positively—the niece relaxed as she tried to find a way to word it (without creating too many unneeded questions): “I d-don’t have any of it myself---it was lost in the fire. I just need something that might help prove who my parents are or s-something from my mother at the very l-least” College applications required a lot of paperwork.
The matter of other things, such as paperwork, would have to wait—Aubre could see them being held hostage until this conflict was dealt with. The blue eyes were not met as she visually wandered the front room. Fingertips danced nimbly around one another like birds in courtship. The kitten offered a way out as the redhead weakly joked: “B-boxes are a lot of fun..” She did not even need to look up to imagine her aunt’s next expression. She felt pressured to continue: “T-they aren’t good for living in—of c-course. Alister is just concerned because I m-might be l-leaving my apartment and d-don’t seem to have a plan in place…” The Persian flinched at the words. The little lizard just rolled his eyes: the girl had no plan. The rent was just steadily climbing higher--her paycheck didn't follow it.
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Post by Lenore Tanaka-McKenna on Oct 6, 2013 18:56:12 GMT -5
(I'm so sorry if this is horrid and incoherent. Sick Airy shouldn't write. I'm also too lazy to reread)
She did, in fact, think that the dragon needed to be better disciplined. That attitude did not sit well with the woman. He also was not her Pokemon, and Aubre could handle him however she saw fit. He also wasn’t staying under her roof—or wouldn’t be if he didn’t learn to be a bit less mouthy. Most of it was just talk though, something that Mischa was able to pick up on where Aubre did not, thus initiating the fit of giggles as the kitty turned her head away, as if trying to hide the fact that she was laughing. She was both laughing at her trainer, and this Pokemon that had rubbed Lenore the wrong way already, ”I’m sure he can manage free speech without that attitude. I’ll take your word for it, though. I’m sure he can be much more charming.” She sounded outright doubtful. The lizard did not seem charming in the least. She gave a roll of her eyes at that grin, something of a barking laugh herself. Mischa dissolved into giggles again. Her ribs would break at this point.
Hospitals and funeral homes seemed to be two of Lenore’s least favorite places. She disliked them past that of a normal sense of discomfort. Neither of the places were good under normal circumstances. Neither often had good things tied to them, ”Worst kid of them all, as I like to say.” She wasn’t deaf to the slightly down tone. She could remember the better times, even if they were faded in Aubre’s mind with the mix of darkness. Lenore would have liked to have shown her. Mischa wasn’t so good at catching on to when people felt down. The cat just sounded amused, ”Appreciate it like I do, you mean?” The sarcasm was there. The cat thought that Lenore was too strict. She didn’t see why she shouldn’t be allowed to get up on the kitchen table, or the counters! She did not know about what Aubre had been through, however, and even if the little cat had, she would not have been able to truly understand it. Lenore, at least, could try and see it. She could try and be there now.
The apology had been more than enough. Lenore would have taken less, at this time, so long as it came across her nieces lips and was sincere. This was not easy, this was not a smooth path to talk. Those words were more than enough for the current day. Nico would not have been pleased, either, if she had held onto any harsh emotions at this moment. Wasn’t that an easy way to chase away the little redhead? ”In present company? Sure you are, Aubs. Lenore doesn’t exactly fill those shoes either.” Her lips twitched, whether Lenore was considering half a grin or was trying to repress a scowl was hard to say.
She would have wiped away the tears, Lenore would have stepped up to that plate easily enough. Aubre would find what she needed here, if she so wanted it. Lenore also didn’t want to force anything. She didn’t feel like that would go over any better. She was usually stern, that side of her didn’t often slip away, that mask was usually concreted in place—But looking at her niece, she couldn’t quite manage it. At least not to the same degree, ”I can only imagine. You don’t need to do it any longer.” The words were sincere. She would match her niece being here with her own truth. At this moment, Lenore had more of an inkling that Aubre just needed someone there for her. The topic of the shirt just drew a laugh out of the small woman. Despite whatever Aubre thought, a bit of snot would not have disgusted the woman.
It still managed to make her want to ask quite a few questions—She chose not to voice them right now, not feeling that it was the time and place. There was a moment where she wanted to frown slightly, feel something similar to remorse. That fire had taken many things, ”Hmm—Whether I have something on me like that or not—We should be able to find something.”
The house had should contain something.
Aubre thought right. Lenore had went from being willing to help to rather suspicious. The narrowed eyes clearly said that, along with the high arch of her eyebrows and the cross of her arms. Her lips pursed contemplatively, ”Leaving? From? I’m hoping that—whatever you’re doing—you do have a plan?”
There was the stern woman that had seemed to vanish for the last bit.
She most definitely wanted her answers.
LAIKA OF GS!
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Post by Aubre Ellen McKenna on Oct 12, 2013 0:47:30 GMT -5
The reptile disagreed: discipline was for soldiers. Holding back your opinion was something that belonged in the realm of Aubre (and certainly did not fit Alister). Dark eyes stared up at Lenore with an unreadable expression—he was assessing this woman. His smirk, devilish and full of mischief, was far from intimidating; for all of his bravado, the little thing came just past Lenore’s knee-cap. He scowled up at the older woman and them smirked. When he spoke, eyes big and innocent, he gave Aubre a case of the shivers:“But, attitude is part of free speech isn’t it? I mean you can’t censor someone’s personality—unless you want to end up like your h---“. A tiny foot, barely grazed his side. When Aubre shook her head, bangs flopping limply, the Helioptile went quiet. Mischa’s laughter might have helped—he was trying to be a bad-ass (not a comedian).
The redhead despised hospitals; she had spent too much of her life in them. They made her feel nervous; a few months on that rubber mat had been due to an infection from the facility itself. Funerals were things she just skipped; Aubre had no idea how to deal with them. Aubre felt hurt for a minute—until she banished that thinking. Her aunt was kidding. Madeline had insisted on doing all the naughty things her father hit her for. Voltaire was just well-behaved. The smile faded as she pondered—maybe she had been the worst one. “T-that might actually be true…”Voltaire and Madeline had been pretty well-behaved; it was Aubre that constantly asked questions and explored the house. Was that really so bad? The redhead decided not to take it as an insult—or she tried not to; her aunt wasn’t being malicious.The kitten reminded her of a little kid; Aubre couldn’t admonish the little thing. Instead of replying, which would require being stern to Mischa or calling Lenore strict, Aubre just stroked a lavender ear.
The serpent, when she did not imagine him suffocating some woodland creature, was a beloved family member. Aubre was not sure who she wanted to hug her first: the giant snake or her aunt; the feeling of crushed ribs, as that sinuous body tightened, kept her from running into Nicolaus’ embrace. To be honest, as she stared at the flower-headed beast, the redhead had no idea how she had never been nervous about throwing herself at the gargantuan reptile. Shaking free of these dark thoughts, Aubre smiled. She tried to joke again. ”Aunt Lenore hosts some great parties; I remember Voltaire’s e-eighth birthday—it was a lot of fun. Some people called her a buzz-kill, I w-wouldn’t--she's my favorite.” The dark-haired woman, while stern, had never seemed to be demonically set against fun. If you followed the rules, were not a donkey’s ass, and didn’t stay up to 4 a.m.: Lenore was not mean. Aubre would never have went back to a woman who was cruel. Aubre smiled and, building up courage, gently planted a chaste kiss on Niko’s muzzle. She hoped it wasn’t poisonous. Her aunt had not seemed too bothered by the remark. Her back was not made to carry heavy loads—the scarring and muscular damage made it worse. Green eyes lifted to meet Lenore’s darker ones. The compassion in those features, so familiar and loving, made her heart shatter. For a minute, like a truck, all that had happened came back; she had spent nearly a year alone and frightened for some stupid guilt.Sadly, while it was nice to pretend that this was a boo-boo a kiss would make better, the issues went much deeper. She had watched her entire life burn. Her back hurt constantly. Her rent was raising above her head. Her mind was far worse than any pain. Aubre, while she wanted to be greedy and through her problems at her aunt, resisted. Her parents had likely died for just that reason: they had been too close.
Aubre feeling memories and more intense feelings bubbling up, pulled away. The shirt might still be saved; she just had to resist turning into a bucket of blubbering. The laughter, which didn’t hide any anger over that shirt, made her smile shakily. Was it so bad to be greedy sometimes? The information was needed for a lot of things: medical benefits, a passport, college applications, and some new rental paperwork. Thank you Auntie; t-there’s no real rush. I’ve m-made you wait a w-while. I can come back later if y-you want..” Some part of her, the one terrified of change, hoped that the dark-haired woman threw her out. Aubre would not mind a few more months of sorrow. A groan from the other room, proof that Alister was listening, gave his opinion on the matter. The questions, thrown at her head like stones, might have driven the redhead away. Aubre hated inquiries.
In truth, more than answers, she wanted to avoid moving forward. Lenore made her want to bolt. Change meant bad things. It meant something terrifying. What would happen if she let go of all her bitterness? What would honestly be left?
Just like that her nerves returned. The lizard had just thrown her under the bus. Had that been why Alister had wanted to come—to get some answers? Aubre fidgeted and responded: “T-the rent’s getting high—that’s all.”Green eyes became oddly interested in a vase on the table. Scarred fingertips traced its edges as she pondered for a minute. The redhead knew, even as she said it, that her answer wouldn’t work. She might as well not even have bothered: “O-of course I have a plan, Auntie; I'm p-pretty paranoid n-now..." Voice slowly growing more quiet, as her fingers sped their little race around the pot: "Y-you can't move without a plan. Everyone knows that--even stupid old me. “ Her plan was as follows: to avoid admitting that her plan was as apparent as Bigfoot or the yeti. Pessimism, along with the set of her aunt’s face, made that unlikely.
Aubre knew she was a horrible liar: here it comes.
She took a deep breath.
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Post by Lenore Tanaka-McKenna on Nov 23, 2013 12:54:02 GMT -5
She could care less if he was assessing her or not--a lizard that was small enough for her to step on if she wasn't careful did not intimidate her, or overly worry her with his opinion. She cared, more, for what Aubre thought of her, or her family in general. Lenore's own lizard, and the rest of her team, was the only Pokemon that she required any sort of approval from. This mischievous little brat wasn't about to find it from her, especially if he continued on with that attitude of his, "In your case, free speech is starting to look like something that should be more of a privilege." That foot hadn't stopped Lenore from assuming the near slip-up. The Helioptile was quickly losing brownie points with her--it wasn't putting the woman into anything of a better mood.
The last thing that the snake would ever consider doing was hurting Aubre. He enjoyed the little redhead, thought she was fun enough, and also had a bit of a soft spot for her. Seeing her again really made the splice more happy than he let on. Nicoliv often got just a tiny bit annoyed with Lenore for how much she avoided going to seek out other family members, even if they had been on the McKenna side. They hadn't dropped off the face of the earth--many of the ones she had been closer to, however, had passed away. Aubre had vanished. Lenore had stopped giving phone calls around. She had centered herself around her work, and had not looked back. Lenore's eyes rolled slightly, "Buzz kil--" The snake give an amused hiss behind her, and his snarky tone effectively cut off whatever she was going to say, which had a hint of irritation in her voice, "No need to hide it, Aubre--She was a bit overbearing. I don't know why you had to schedule everything."
"Schedule keep events in line--"
"No, they keep fun out of line." The snake sounded more amused than anything, though. Nicoliv have an amused chuckle when Lenore's jaw visibly tightened and she gave an irritated shake of her head. The snakes glittering eyes, however, softened a bit when the girl packed him on the maw, and Lenore's own features went from stern to... less stern. The snake's tail flicked forward to wrap slightly around her hand, "Don't mind us bickering, Aubre. We're just two old hoots. It's good to see you again." and his voice was completely sincere. She would not be suffering from any poisonings today. The snake only hurt those that he wished too, and usually he was rather gentle despite having been vigorously trained through most of his life. He made a good friend, just as much as he made a good bodyguard.
What could Lenore do for Aubre? How could she help her? That would be something for the future. The first step, that of Aubre actually coming of her of her own accord, had already happened. It was more than enough for Lenore to settle for on that current day. She wouldn't pressure until she felt that Aubre wanted it, and was comfortable enough for it. She would not shake her, on that step, to go and get some help. She could see that Aubre was hurting, but at this point she felt that the girl needed to feel more comfortable and safe than she needed Lenore to go throwing her straight out to the councillors. They did not need to rush on that day.
She would happily provide these things--all of that stuff was important for Aubre's everyday life, and Lenore was more than happy to accommodate. If Aubre was to push, the small woman likely would have done it right off the bat. Aubre also made it sound like she would rather get none of this--Lenore simply gave a small smile, something that transformed usually stern features into something more soft, something from when she was much younger, "Oh, no, it's fine, Aubre. Just whenever you need them--I have the day off. Just ask, and you'll receive. Arceus knows that this house is large enough to have something, and I was always a bit of a pack rat." That was a lie--she did not hoard, but she did have an office with many different pieces of paperwork, some personal, some not. She would have something for Aubre.
The fidgeting only made her more suspicious. She could tell that Aubre didn't want to discuss this, but Lenore had heard enough, "If the rents getting high, Aubre, you only need to ask. You know I'm happy to offer you any help you need--Money, a place to stay for a while, just... support in general?" Her dark eyes narrowed slightly. She wasn't about to let this one slip away from her. In the background, Nevaeh peeked in. Suspecting an important conversation, the Lilligant simply moved away--although she may have stayed near enough to catch a few tidbits. This house always had something going on.
"I'm starting to doubt how realistic this plan is, Aubre. You're definitely not stupid--but you're also stubborn. I of all people know what that's like. Spit it out."
Somewhere, Nevaeh gave a sigh. Why couldn't the woman be a little more sensitive?
(I'm sorry, this is horrid. 24 hours before responding~) JUST HOLD ON, WE'RE GOIN' HOME.
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Post by Aubre Ellen McKenna on Dec 2, 2013 4:45:18 GMT -5
The lizard truly disliked being tiny. He could not wait until he evolved.
Robin’s egg eyes narrowed at the appraisal. Deep inside, beneath his scales, was a protective individual. This woman had frightened his trainer; he despised people who did that far more than any jokes about his height. The little redhead did not deserve any cruelty from her family. Aubre was shallow, recalcitrant, wishy-washy, and a bit naïve. She was not a bad person (nor a strong one); instead, beneath her worries, was an intelligent person with a heart of fragile gold. The comment drew a sneer onto his features. He crossed his arms moodily. “You’re just spouting that because I’m a damned Pokemon.” Narrowing his eyes into slits, raising an eyebrow, Alister continued in a grumble. “—I’m allowed to say what I want.”, the reptile just hoped, with some humor, that his trainer felt more at home.
Aurbe knew that Nikoliv adored Lenore; the pair always seemed close. Regardless, the shadow of the snake falling over her aunt, drew shivers up Aubre’s spine. It looked like a predatory action. It was as if Jack Frost had decided to tickle her. Her smile, nervous and twitching, froze in place. The younger trainer chose not to interrupt the pair. The ginger-haired girl just watched them volley rebukes. It’s great to see these two are still great friends after all this time. Soon, when the pain of her losses were not as vibrant, Aubre hoped she could find something similar. When the splice turned to her, exhibiting a pink tongue, the redhead ducked inside her jacket. Her aunt had been a bit obsessed with schedules. The kiss on the dry cheek, snakeskin still surprised her with its lack of moisture, seemed to defuse the situation. Shaking her head, fingers stroking bright scales, Aubre allowed herself to feel him breathe. ” You aren't old---and n-not very owl-like either." The joke was given a few seconds to let the joke sink in; she continued. " I think both of you had good points, Nicoliv.” The redhead wished she had a more organized schedule. She also wished all calendars could disappear in a fireworks show; an urge to follow the same safe-maze, like a lab rat in danger of shock, had ruined any chance at a good time.
The smile was comforting. A shattered heart gave a painful flutter; the broken bird, nervous to fly, was testing its wings. The walls, built to be safe, might tumble where Lenore was concerned. Fear tried to dictate that Aubre flee. She will just leave; then you will be all alone again—it’s what you deserve. Bitter thoughts refused to vacate her mind completely; they nested in the deepest crevices of her mind like bats. “Thank you, Auntie. I just n-need t-to know when you are off—you could always just mail them. You could also prefer to hand them over in person—I know that. The mail can be notoriously unreliable; the workers likely have n-nothing to do with that. I j-just need before the month ends . . .” Opened and torn envelopes had found their way beneath her doorway more than once. She could picture the giggling as they read her measly rent payments. “I can help you look if it really is a mess in t-there. W-we can all be a bit disorganized sometimes.” Her parent’s death might have left Lenore with a hoarding disorder. It had left Aubre with far worse.
Tears threatened to spill again. The offer was so kind; pieces of her shell seemed to crumble into dust. The temptation to stay, take the room she could see from the kitchen, was nearly palpable. Dark green eyes shone with desire for a moment. Aubre wouldn’t be alone; she would have someone to help her. The youngest McKenna vigorously shook her head. The urge to be independent, to allow that man to hurt no one else, steeled her spine. You're treating me like a charity case--I don't deserve it. You wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t nuttier than a fruit cake.Feeling ashamed at her own thoughts, her aunt would never throw any relative into the cold, Aubre felt herself wilt. Her voice shook as she shoved the invitation away. “T-thank you, Auntie Lenore, for the offer. I would n-n-ever want to be an inconvenience. Things would likely work better if I wasn’t—wasn’t here--like with mom and dad.” Pale lips spread upward in an apologetic smile. “I can always use another shirt to ruin—by c-crying all over it.” She sniffled and gave a bitter laugh. It wouldn’t be the same anyway—she can’t be your mother. It won't bring them back. Red hair rippled with her silent nod.
The pointed question was the thing that drew out her donkey-like tendencies. If there had been a halter around her neck, Aubre would have likely tugged it tense. The only thing holding her there were love, guilt, and temptation. Lenore truly would understand. Finally, knowing her lies would be picked apart like a buzzard’s meal, Aubre confessed. “ I just plan on moving into another apartment soon—I don’t know where, how, or when. T-that' a-all I have. It's not much of a plan.. ”Palms lifted in a show of defeat. Aubre had not expected it to shatter quite so soon. Her rent was raising above her head. The only place she could afford was filled with crimes. "You wanted the t-truth though." The lizard in the other room gave a groan. The cat slapped a paw over his face. The redhead had little money “It’s better to live in the slums than end up homeless, right:.”Again. Her aunt would offer. Aubre had to remain strong. Lifting her head, green eyes dancing with fire, Aubre waited for a response. In fact, for a second, she seemed to dare her aunt to give one. With a tantrum, a fit, and some crying---her niece would leave. The strategy, of using pity, had won her nearly every battle so far.
This courage lasted for all of three heartbeats. Her gaze dropped back to the hardwood floors. Finally, realizing how quiet the house was, Aubre moved on to something that had been bothering her. “Is V-voltaire home?”
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Post by Lenore Tanaka-McKenna on Jan 30, 2014 21:56:55 GMT -5
Lenore, respectively, would have told the little lizard to mind his own business. Not necessarily because she had any problem with the Helioptile being protective of Aubre—in fact, she was glad for that—but because she was this girls aunt, and the feelings that she felt towards her was borderline motherly, if she dared to put it into words. Lenore could have told Aubre that in a split second—her niece was definitely not a bad person, and she had never been anywhere near that. Lenore just would have liked her to grow a bit more of a spine—for her own good. There was a point when too much spine was just too much, as this lizard was proving to be, ”Am I? Are you implying that I am somehow treading on your Pokemon Rights? Because I can ensure you that I have never done any such thing, or thought anything near to it in the time that we have been speaking.” Her eyes glanced over towards Aubre briefly, before she gave a small sigh and an exasperated shake of her head, clearly giving way to the inevitable—which was her niece had one mouthy Pokemon.
Close was the small way to put it. Lenore would have been lying if she said that her and Nikoliv weren’t close. He cared for her, and she cared for him, and when no one else was around it was easy enough for the two of them to share little sarcastic jokes, whether that be about anything from a movie they had seen, someone Lenore had seen during the day, or even just the news. Present from a husband that she had not seen in so long or not, nothing could stick a wedge between Nico and her in that matter, nor would she let it. Nicoliv also, however, was very fond of Aubre herself, and gave a bit of a hissed chuckle at her words, ”I’m getting up there, my dear. I think I handle it pretty well, though.” A slit tongue spun free, and the snake gently eased into the hand that rested again him. Lenore wouldn’t be able to burn down any calendars in a minutes notice, nor would she try too—even if she may want to. That safe-maze, however, was dangerous to navigate for the woman who wished to reconnect as much as possible with her niece in these few moments.
An understanding nod—Lenore would like to knock down those walls, would like to burrow under Aubre’s skin and get at who she was now, but she would not rush it—yet. She was a heavy believer that gradual pushing would do her niece better than outright shoving it all down. If Aubre thought she would leave, at a moments notice, for whatever reason, than she was gone. Lenore had an odd tendency of sticking like glue—that had not changed over the years, and usually it was by her hands that she broke free, and she was not about to do that, ”How about this? I get them to you in half the time before you need them, and hand them to you in person, and we enjoy dinner together? Unless you’re only planning on using me for a few documents, that is.” Her eyebrows rose, and her voice was clearly sarcastic—she didn’t believe that in the least. She did huff slightly, in amusement, at what Aubre said next, ”It’s not bad enough that I can’t handle it—maybe I’ll even take the time to clean out some old dust.” Old files. Old pictures. Old memories.
She could have. If Aubre had wanted to say than all she had to do was say the word, and Lenore would have had the room ready for her, the pillows fluffled and blankets that had not been ruffled in months, within the hour. A part of Lenore, in fact, almost wished that she would agree to it—the old house was large, and Pokemon company only went so far. She did not want to force anything down Aubre’s throat, however, and if she was not ready to move in yet, or if she did not want to, than that was all there was too it. This had nothing to do with a charity case, however, ”Of course, love.” It wasn’t often that she used endearments like that—with the fragility of the situation, it seemed right in this moment, ”I understand. Just come visit from time to time? Sleepovers never hurt, now. Isn’t that what you girls do now? Pillow fights and bad movies?” The joke was warm—a touch of her sternness never seemed to leave her voice, however, ”The shirts yours. Whenever you need it.” She didn’t want to hear that bitter laugh, nor did the nod seem like enough. No, Lenore could not fill the spot that her mother had left. She could not even come close. Yet she wanted to. For the sake of this girl, standing in front of her, so vulnerable.
No softness would remain for that conversation, however, ”An apartment? Sometime? Aubre, if you’re trying to find a place—At least let me help you look?” The words sounded tense, as if Lenore had to force them out. In all truth, they hadn’t come easily. She would have liked to march out the door and get Aubre’s stuff herself and set it where she thought it belonged—in that bedroom. She had already, quietly in her head, told herself not to do that.
”…The offer still stands.” The lizard had pushed her to it. Lenore’s hand gestured, nonchalantly and seemingly without thought, towards the other room, ”If you ever need it.” She felt like she needed it now. Lenore bit the inside of her cheek anyway.
”What do you think? I think the boy sometimes forgets he has a mother—Always busy with school. As long as he’s back by… twelve.” It was an empty threat. Her son was an adult—she’d still like to put him in his place.
(72 hours before responding!)
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Post by Aubre Ellen McKenna on Feb 6, 2014 6:38:24 GMT -5
While he felt bad for doing it, realizing he was embarrassing Aubre, the Helioptile could not stop himself from arguing. He had his image to worry about. Stubborn, eager to make up for his size, and wanting to appear ‘strong’ for his little trainer, his tongue continued to move “You’re trying to censor an opinionated Pokemon—what do you call it? I mean you called me short and I didn’t try to gag you--” His bravado faded when he met a pair of dark emerald eyes. “Alister…” Aubre seemed truly hurt, a bit irritated, and disappointed. It was one thing for him to be a big-mouth; it was something entirely different to accuse her aunt paving the way towards Pokemon enslavement.
In truth, on most days, Alister seemed to forget he was a Pokemon. He identified with his own kind, his family, and his trainer; the little reptile truly never thought about the plights of his brethren. “Sorry.” The word, when it first emerged, was sheepish. Seconds later, hands crossing over his chest, he resumed his egotistic air.
The Persian, while normally a jovial sort, wished he liked chewing on reptiles. He quite liked this woman—was this what Aubre might have been in a different place? Nah.
Such a close feeling had once existed between Aubre and a tiny little Mantyke. The pair had slept in the same bed, used the same toothbrush, and even ate from the same plate. It didn’t matter that her parents giggled and gently scolded. While she might not do any of these things with Nicoliv, he was rather too large to sit on her bed, the redheaded woman felt close to him. These McKenna Pokemon, including the bad ones, whether from the lab or the depths of the wilds, were considered family. It might have been a way to feel less empty, or seen that way by an outsider, but the trainer truly loved her family’s companions. Some of them, like Richard or Nicoliv, drew up familiar feelings of terror; she hated that boy for making her heart so closed. Regardless, forcing through bad feelings and focusing on happier ones, Aubre continued to give a tiny smile. “You look like you were just hatched yesterday—“ Frowning for a moment, realizing this might be factually incorrect or imply that he was stupid, she awkwardly murmured, “With more wisdom—and maybe n-not hatched.” In truth, seeing everyone here and seemingly well, put her at ease. The thought of another family member being in trouble, which would make her lack of connection unbearable, had made her reluctant to reemerge.
Gradual pushing, gently and firmly, would likely be the safest way to fix Aubre; it was just difficult for her to take the first step. Yes, she knew it was good for her to heal. The thought of actually doing it, letting go of the pain that had defined her so long, made her afraid. Lenore on the other hand, seeming less like a reasonably enraged dragon and more like an aunt. “Two weeks--oh…?” How dirty was that office? Lenore likely had a lot of paperwork—true adults always did. Did she want her here? Lenore wouldn’t lie or evade if that was the case; unlike this Aubre, the dark-haired woman was straightforward. The sarcasm, which was Flushing, shaking her head mutely, Aubre vehemently denied any nefarious intentions. “N-no!—“ A deep breath followed and some fidgeting. They should call you mouse, Aubre. You just squeaked. “ I mean I wouldn’t mind going to dinner with you—I would just n-never use you..” That was why she had not raced into her arms, potentially endangering the middle-aged woman, the second her parents passed. “Did you ever consider putting it online?” Of course she did, shut up. Shaking her head, waving the question away, the redhead just grinned awkwardly.
“You paying for us too, huh? Or is this a family affair?” The Helioptile went silent. A tail, about as thick as an arm, had gently stroked his jaw. Arthur would not let his mouth ruin this. Alister might protect Aubre; Arthur cared about her.
The speed might have made her nervous; it also might have turned her tear ducts into geysers. Those scars had damaged a lot of her self-esteem and self-worth. The fact that this woman cared so much, without seeming cold or distant like her brother, was a gratifying realization. “I love you too. I just—I didn’t say it yet—I felt silly—I mean—what I said, and what I think, for once.” The words were quiet. Her heart was breaking from turning that offer down; a spine of steel meant little to her feelings. The images of carefree parties, pillow-fighting, and silly moves were near enough to touch. “N-no, sleepovers never hurt…” Sometimes they might, it really depended on the situation, didn’t it. “I’ll come visit whenever I can.” She had to resist the temptation to do what she wanted; it was a dangerous drug. A hunger for attention might, again, cost her everything. Another laugh. Less bitter. More sad. Mom would have offered me the same thing. “T-thank you—I’d offer my hoody but..” One scarred finger emerged from a hole in the sleeve. The formerly black cotton looked like road kill.
Staring at her aunt, waiting for an explosion, Aubre took a moment to respond. Her brain had not received the anger, or incredulity, it had been expecting. “I am looking online—“ The uncertain answer barely grazed the surface of the topic at hand. “I will likely find something, soon.” It would have roaches. The lights would likely not work. It was a far cry from her aunt’s hou—no! You can’t do that! The smell of smoke, which never seemed to truly vanish, seemed to emerge from expensive paneling.
“I k-know.” That much, at least, was the truth. No matter what her mind said, what her anxiety crafted the world into, her aunt was a rock. Dragons were considered rather stubborn and stable creatures, after all! “I’ll ask, if I do…” Aubre could practically hear the frowns from her Pokemon. They didn’t understand. They hadn’t helped kill their parents. They weren’t the ones living half-of-a-life. The smile emerged again and shivered. It was too tempting. The salt became an apparent taste on her lips. Could she shed anymore tears if this woman were taken away too? Did she have enough salt in her body?
Chuckling at her aunt, remembering her relationship with her son, the redhead fidgeted. Her fingers danced around frayed fabrics and her fingertips. While she could not cave completely, the strongest trees were a bit flexible. “I s-should probably tell him that I’m not dead, huh? “ A laugh at a joke not meant to be funny. “I mean..it’s been a while. ” Leaning forward, green eyes glowing for a moment, Aubre could not resist: “It’s hard to forget you.“ Then the sadness reemerged. The girl had forgotten her own parents before they died; blame it on the pain, blame it on the therapy, or, like AUbre, blame it on selfishness. “I don’t think he would do that—“ He wasn’t her.
“I can stay.” That was not quite what she meant this time, was it? “I will. “ Then she quickly edited her statement. —tonight, I mean. Until Voltaire gets home—well—after I talk to him. Maybe a bit later, if it’s not too dark.” Maybe there was a bit of a deeper prophecy in that statement.
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Post by Lenore Tanaka-McKenna on Mar 3, 2014 21:50:55 GMT -5
Lights will guide you home And I will try and fix you Lenore might have questioned what image. She had a good sense of others feelings, though, and while the argument had trailed on between her and the Pokemon, she wouldn’t purposely say something that was mean to hurt the little lizard. Still, the woman did not look impressed. In fact, the minute ‘censored’ came out of his mouth, her eyes narrowed slightly, and she clucked her tongue down at Alister, ”I’ve never considered censoring a Pokemon in my life. You, however, might be sleeping on the floor the next time my niece decides it’s worth her time to sleep over here.” A foot tapped absentmindedly against the floor. The fiery woman felt like she was developing a twitch beneath her left eye. She wouldn’t have been surprised if she were.
Far from it, Lenore would have told the Persian. The cat, however, who had so far not been nearly as mouthy, didn’t gain the same irritated glance at the lizard had.
If it weren’t for his size, Nicoliv would have curled up with the girl on a bed. He also likely would have reflected a different relationship—He was a sweetheart. He was also dangerous, if need be. Yet the snake wouldn’t have been happy to hear he caused any discomfort in the girl—he had known her for a long time, and he truly did think of Aubre with warm thoughts, the same way that Lenore did, ”I could use more compliments like that. I think my shedding is slimming.” The Pokemon chuckled slightly, warm eyes fixing on the redhead. She was not quite the same—but she was still Aubre to him. He still looked at her as if she was just a kid, visiting.
There had never been a bone in the womans body that compelled her to skip around the truth, or speak a lie. When she was child, they had spilt past innocent lips. Her mothers pointed words and her fathers threat of punishments had killed that in her—reaching higher levels, it wasn’t long before Lenore found out why. It became something of a taboo in her own mind, ”I didn’t think so.” She hadn’t meant to cause the girl to squeak. It was meant as a joke—it was hard, sometimes, to tell with the stern faced woman. Eyes wandered towards the Pokemon, ”I’m tempted to insist that she leave you home. I’ll pay, but you should show a tad bit more appreciation.”
Lenore couldn’t wipe away scars. She couldn’t even give Aubre back, personally, the self-confidence she had lost, no matter how much the aunt might have liked too. She felt torn. She felt like speaking firmly, trying to get her niece to do what she thought was best. She also had the sense, through her own compassion, that it was not the right way to go now, ”Don’t feel sorry about saying that, or silly. It means something. I’m your family.” It had hurt, just a bit, when she turned the offer down. A part of Lenore had wanted it. A part of Lenore had wished for a bit more company than what her often absent son brought—a part of her wanted something more.
She couldn’t be this girls mother, however. She couldn’t be… Brenna.
”We’ll go out and you can pick out a hoodie for my there.” Innocent, something sweet to look forward to. A promise for what might come, if Aubre just took the time to come herself. Nicoliv hoped she would—He knew his trainer. He knew the look on her face. To others, it was the norm. It was stern. It was closed off, in its own way. Her eyes looked a tad wistful to him, even when the dragon-lady smiled ruefully, ”I’m sure you’ll get an offer. You’re a hard worker. Someone will see that. Have you followed up on your applications?” Lenore was a believer that a little extra push could do wonders. They wanted to see people who cared.
”He’d want to hear. I’m sure it’d come as no surprise to him. He always says your as stubborn as any other McKenna.” Voltaire had not opened up to her about how he felt about her vanishing—but Lenore did feel that he had been concerned. Questions, late nights, and the occasional glance at a picture where more than just one adolescent could be found clearly said that to keen eyes, ”Stay for Voltaire, if anything. He could use some company—family company. I think he finds the house stuffy.”
She found the house stuffy. How many times had she considered that maybe it was time to move on, leave the old home behind? She never pulled through with it, ”You’re welcome as long as you want to stay, Aubre.”
She meant it.
(48 hours before responding please!)
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