Vincent Tram
NEUTRAL
Everyone has their own way of seeing. Some see the finer things or they just don't look.
Posts: 44
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Post by Vincent Tram on Sept 10, 2013 20:31:29 GMT -5
Vincent sat under a tree just outside of the University grounds. He was close enough to the University in which he could walk back there in a matter of minutes, but far enough to where those not part of the University to appear and walk on by. Holding a newspaper in hand, his strangely grey eyes stared at the wanted ad section. Finding a part time job was tricky task. Considering he needed it to be close to the University so he could go back and forth between the two easily. He didn't own a bicycle, so he was stuck walking.
Roko, his vulpix was sitting next to him in the shade. His brown eyes had glanced up at Vincent curiously. His trainer was a good person and no doubt he would be able to hold a job. The only problem was finding one it seemed. Roko had suggested one of the jobs dealing with art but he then remembered Vincent wasn't too good with the other art forms. And not many jobs involved it.
Vincent let out a sigh and leaned against the tree. This search was just tiring. Closing his eyes as he leaned back against the tree, he soon opened them. However, he quickly wished he hadn't. A haunter was staring down at him and immediately screamed at him.
"AH!!!!" Vincent nearly screamed as he stood up and took a few steps away from the tree, turning and facing the haunter. "HAUNT!!!"
Haunt. Vincent's haunter that was constantly scaring him. This ghost pokemon was a constant bringer of terror for Vincent but he knew getting rid of it would do no good. Besides, he wasn't a cold person. He wouldn't give any of his pokemon away for anything. Roko had jumped to his paws and ran when he heard Vincent scream. He quickly went to Vincent's side and just had a blank expression on his face as he looked at the Haunter. Haunt was laughing.
"This is still too easy." Haunt said through laughing, Vincent folded his arms.
"You did catch me off guard you know." Vincent said, the familiar sound of a pokeball opening came to Vincent's ears and he looked.
Uh oh, Spark was no loose. Spark was a pikachu and normally, a well behaved one. However, there was just one thing that got the yellow rodent angry. Haunt scaring Vincent. Spark's gaze landed on Haunt.
"What are you trying to do?!!" Spark ordered, Vincent sighed.
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Post by Aubre Ellen McKenna on Sept 11, 2013 16:01:32 GMT -5
Aubre needed a job. She only had a month worth of apartment bills saved up and four weeks was not a very long time. She would feel guilty for staying a day longer than she could pay for. If she failed—for whatever reason—the redhead would be sleeping on the streets. The other option, depending on her aunt like an invalid, seemed even worse. The idea of a warm-bed, family, and affection was quite alluring; the redhead was reluctant to stay with her as a last resort—she tried her best not to use her family. She felt bad enough for currently piggy-backing on her aunt and cousin’s internet connection. 112 applications had been signed and filled out. About two dozen more had been completed online; her old rickety computer, not used to the workout, practically wheezed as you typed upon it. In the coming weeks, if she pushed it any further, it would likely crack from exhaustion—its owner, a tiny red-headed girl, would not be far behind. Maybe, when the stress of this process was done with her, she could be buried with what remained of the keyboard.
The amount of businesses in this town that were hiring, likely because their other workers had been eaten or moved, amazed Aubre. None of them seemed to want her. She did not understand why—besides her injured back, obvious trepidation, inability to wear nice clothing, and the nervous speech impediment that sometimes reared its head. The petite girl had recommendations, slightly-famous parents, impeccable grades, and some desirable skills. She felt worthless—all this work and nothing to show for it. Red hair, mostly due to stress, was left all over her house (her aunt had to be tired of vacuuming).
It seemed rather odd, with her current obsession with finding a job, to find her in a park. The bag with her computer had been taken away. Aubre had been told to take a break and sent out to do something—besides worry about impending homelessness. Her aunt, Lenore, had seen how distressed, cagey, pale, and useless her niece had been feeling. Black thread and carrot-colored hair dotted every surface of her aunt’s house. Without any real direction, letting her feet take her where they would, Aubre set off into town. She could not go home without her laptop. Lenore was holding it ransom for a few hours. The tears spilling down freckled cheeks, after sending in another useless cry for help, had likely prompted that particular action.
Her usual haunts, the park and library, did not hold her attention. The cat beside her, a chubby Persian in need of a walk, finally slowed at a patch of green. It was the Pokemon that finally chose to stop; Arthur flopped into the grass. He was breathing heavily and exhausted. The girl, caring little for the grass-stains on her knees, dropped into the grass beside the distressed animal. She saw the logo of the university in the distance—while co. “Arthur, we can’t stop here! This is probably the university’s property! T-they might get mad. ” Pulling gently at those broad and cream shoulders, she found her protests ignored. Amber eyes stared longingly at his trainer—he just needed a few minutes. Aubre, always soft-heated, just sighed and sat beside him. It had been a while since she had an application in her hand. Was it really autumn? Scarred fingers grabbed a wilted leaf from the ground and began to trace its veins. It crumbled into pieces--much to her regret. Aubre sighed. “I c-can’t believe it’s really that late in the year...” Was a time-god playing tricks on her? Had she truly, minus a few hours a week volunteering, wasted an entire summer?
She nearly lost her skin when someone screamed. The brown haired boy, a secondary concern when compared to hyperventilating Arthur, had escaped her cautious gaze. The tree bark had camouflaged his hair. With a muffled noise of alarm, Aubre surged to her feet. A few steps sideways, curiosity bidding her to look (against her better judgment), and green eyes peered around the edge of the tree. A Haunter had frightened is trainer. The boy had been protesting. The tiny smile that now graced her cheeks, at the antics, was hard to fight.
A Pokeball burst free and her thoughts, as they always did, turned darker. It was rarely a good sign when the latch broke--it meant the mechanism had been overwhelmed. That took a lot of power and anger.The Pikachu’s actions frightened her.
The sparking made her eyes widen in alarm. One hand rose in silent protest as she shook her head. Electricity and dry grass was not the best combination. “C-can we try not to set the grass on fire p-please..?” A large head, that of her Persian, pushed its way around the tree. His whiskers and neck hair were raised in the after-effects of terror. His intrusion interrupted any further rambling from his tiny trainer. “Oh my, can a guy not get a nap around here—without ghosts giving us palpitations?” The ghost-type, with the after-effects of his prank, had nearly stopped Aubre’s heart. Not wanting to anger the Haunter, or his trainer, two fingers poked the cat in the ribs. Her green eyes narrowed at him. It was none of their business. Aubre felt her cheeks flush as she nervously swallowed. She should not have said anything either.
(No replying until 11:15am on 9/13/2013)
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Vincent Tram
NEUTRAL
Everyone has their own way of seeing. Some see the finer things or they just don't look.
Posts: 44
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Post by Vincent Tram on Sept 12, 2013 0:46:20 GMT -5
The sound of voices came to Vincent, causing him to turn and see a young girl and her pokemon. Oh no. Haunt most likely scared them as well. Roko had walked over to Spark and started to shove the pikachu off to the side. Leading the electric rodent away from the trainers. Course Spark was prostesting while Roko was silent.
"I'm sorry if Haunt scared you guys as well. When I got here a few minutes ago, no one else was." Vincent started to explain to Aubre. "Haunt likes to scare me for some reason, Spark doesn't like it, and Roko seems to be able to stop the two from fighting. Most of the time."
Haunt was now hovering above Vincent, making faces at his trainer and doing funny little poses. He was just being entertaining for some reason. Considering Arthur's statement a moment ago, Haunt took a mental note in silence. Deciding that he would humor himself this way. Who knows, maybe even humor others. Which was a rare thing he did. Now Haunt was right behind Vincent, sticking his hands around the back of Vincent's head but not too close to where his hands would go through his trainer's head. He moved his three fingers along in a spider like motion, then gave Vincent two sets of bunny ears on the side of his head using two of fingers.
"I'm Vincent Tram, and you?" Vincent said as he held his hand out to Aubre, unaware of Haunt's doings behind him.
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Feather
EXECUTIVE
Posts: 2,835
OOC Name:: Feather
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Post by Feather on Sept 12, 2013 22:07:11 GMT -5
Aubre had not been scared by the ghost-type; it had been Haunt's trainer, with his sudden shrieking, that had nearly sent her scurrying into a corner. She hoped she had not echoed his scream--she would rather seem curious than terrified. The emerald eyes that stared at Vincent and company, far more pupil than iris, made it obvious that she was frightened. The redhead was half-afraid, if she let go of the tree, that she would collapse. Her fingers visibly shook. The noise of arguing, as the Vulpix nudged away the electric mouse, drew her attention: "N-no, you don't have to s-send him away, sir. He was just t-trying to h-help.." The volume, barely audible to the feline behind her, made the protest nearly useless. Guilt instantly surged inside her heart--she had not meant to drive away the tiny rodent. Then again, as the little fox was a fire-type (and in charge), Aubre may have purposely kept (mostly) quiet. She really did not want the area to go up like kindling when the two Pokemon turned on her; it would be too embarrassing to die from a grass-fire. Her flashbacks, nasty and intrusive at the worst of times, would just love doing that to her.
Her head shook twice at the brunette boy's concern. She did not want to malign the Haunter. The name drew an instinctive raised eyebrow from the girl--did the ghoul enjoy being called such a thing? Slowly, as she turned to the task of speaking to Vincent, her brow returned to normal. Again, for a third time, she shook her head. it was far less desirable to admit that the human had been the one to scare her. Hands danced in front of her chest in a never-ending loop. Fingers, scarred and nearly nail-free, battled with each other for the right to flee. They froze.
A disturbing question popped into her head as she pondered the implications of what Vincent said. Had he been alone, in this green, on purpose? Had she accidentally disturbed his solitude? The cat beside her began to purr as she scratched at his eats. Finally, after a prolonged pause of careful thinking, Aubre spoke: "N-no, he did not s-scare me. I'm just easily frightened is all, sir." She listened to the explanation in silence. She hoped that Roko, likely the Vulpix, would stop them without a battle: "I am s-sure they're all lovely Pokemon. I h-hope we did not interrupt--my Persian was just a bit tired. He's not in the best of shape. He r-really should exercise.." The cat's dark lashes snapped down with irritation; the purring stopped. "It's h-his choice not to, he's an adult. Arthur's p-perfectly attractive as it is..." The boy did not seem cruel, wicked, or mean. The tiniest of smiles weaseled onto her face; it flew off in the space it took for a hummingbird to flap its wings. She was always worried, if her happiness was too prolonged, that it would be snatched away. Her back continued its constant fizzling and aching--just to confirm her worries.
The movement of the hands, just because it might have been aggressive, drew up the two green eyes. That gaze instantly widened as the mischief continued. Her staring was quite pronounced as Haunt began to taunt and torment his trainer. She debated on saying something out-loud. Unable to hold the ghost's gaze, her eyes dropped down to examine her shoes (which had not changed in the past two or three minutes). The long and unruly lines of her bangs, left purposely uncut, dropped enough to hide the slightest crinkling of her cheeks. The ghost was immature--she still had some instinct to chuckle at him. Would he be angry if she chose not to?
The hand was eyed for a moment with some suspicion. Shaking her head, scolding herself for her paranoia, Aubre offered her own hand. She gently grasped Vincent and gave it a shake or two. The redhead could give a civilized introduction without a mistake--right? Hundreds of times before, in random meetings like this one, Aubre had said nearly the exact same words: "I'm Aubre McKenna; the Persian is Haunter..." The movement of the royal-purple hands had prompted the slip-up. Her cheeks flared a bright color as she hastened to correct himself: "T-the Persian is named Arthur." She did not want to rat out the ghost-type. She was not confrontational. Like a particularly inept criminal, who accidentally confessed to a crime, she attempted to brush-over her mistake: "I was just admiring your Haunter and managed to get the two mixed up. They don't sound much alike, do they..?" A puff of air, expelling some anxiety, calmed the girl down. She did not need to break down in front of Vincent (in case he decided to call the nearest psychiatric hospital).
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Vincent Tram
NEUTRAL
Everyone has their own way of seeing. Some see the finer things or they just don't look.
Posts: 44
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Post by Vincent Tram on Sept 13, 2013 11:07:13 GMT -5
"They'll be back in a few moments, usually it doesn't take much for Roko to calm Spark down." Vincent assured. "Since it's a daily occurrence, Roko has gotten the hang of handling this."
Aubre seemed....very...very nervous to Vincent. Was everyone always nervous when they meet him? Haunt was probably part of the reason as to why people were, considering how Haunt would purposely scare them as well. The other part could be due to his skin, true in this lighting he seemed to have a normal and healthy shade of white. Instead of pale. Due to Aubre not yet laughing, Haunt continued with his taunting. Hovering above Vincent once more, Haunt stuck his fingers in his mouth and pulled. Elongating his mouth and making a variety of faces at Vincent. When the handshake was done, Vincent's hand fell to his side as he stood there. He was taken by surprise when Aubre made the mistake of calling her Persian haunter.
"It's okay." Vincent said. "Are you okay Aubre? I know it's not my business but....you just seem really nervous. You don't have to answer me, it's your choice if you want to. I'm just asking in case there's something I can do to help."
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Post by Aubre Ellen McKenna on Sept 14, 2013 0:54:53 GMT -5
Whether Vincent reassured her or not, Aubre could not help it. At her core, knowing it was dangerous, the redhead was built on curiosity; questions, unanswered and rarely asked, could drive her insane. Emerald eyes kept sliding over to the distant screen of bushes and the argument behind them. The two squabbling Pokemon, blocked by autumn foliage, were barely audible. "I a-am glad to hear it; I apologize again for interrupting a-anything. I did not mean to cause a fight..." She tore her gaze away from the Pokemon to focus fully on Vincent. Aubre had no intentions of being rude to this boy: he was bigger, stronger, and likely dangerous when annoyed. The next words, about how short of a fuse the Pikachu had, seemed to spit in the face of what Vincent had just said. The Pikachu constantly broke free of his Pokeball. That was dangerous. "I a-am certain that Roko, the V-vulpix, is a v-very astute mediator---p-practice makes things easier..." Like a politician, Aubre rarely spoke her true opinion; she had a deep-seated fear of arguing, angering, and disagreeing with other people. The woman did believe that 'Spark' was in need of some sort of anger-management courses--electricity, dispelled angrily and without an aim, could really hurt someone.
The girl was nervous. Ever since her attack, for nearly two and a half years now, anxiety had been her normal state of being. It was a symptom of her PTSD; it was difficult to treat without medication---the pills just made her feel dead. Suffice to say, Vincent was not the source of her shaking and constant worry. The boy who had started it, with hair like fallen stone and eyes like cerulean, was nowhere near the pair. To be honest, aside from the way his flopping hair reminded her of puppy-dog ears, Aubre did not find Vincent overly intimidating. Most people were bigger than her ( she was very short). Statistically speaking, most men were stronger. Aubre was just skittish around most people. The ones that she was not afraid of, mostly relatives, were there since her birth.
The skin-color had nothing to do with it; the redhead was barely a shade or two above 'corpse' herself. The freckles livened up pale skin that rarely saw son. The sleeves currently hanging past her wrist, dark grey and tattered, kept almost any son away. Even now, on a warm day where people wore shorts, Aubre refused to take her worn jacket off. It helped disguise her tiny little smiles when Haunt continued to tease and torment his trainer.
While Aubre did not mention the mocking, because giving attention was what the ghost wanted, she could not help but look up at it from time to time. The Persian beside her, while nearly as nervous, had no qualms with speaking up: "You know, old chap, that your ghost is fancying himself a comedian? You make quite the humorous duo," The tip of his tail, dark caramel in color, jabbed once or twice at the ghost above the boy. His smile stretched outward for a moment, exposing his bright-white teeth, as he nodded at the ghost. The thing seemed more immature to Arthur than dangerous--he would not have spoken at all he had smelled the least bit bothersome. Unlike some things on his trainer's belt, a dual-one that criss-crossed both hips, the Haunter could severely hurt him. The girl, after her scaredy-cat drummed up the courage to speak, offered the smallest apologetic grin at Haunt. Hopefully, if all else failed, that action would appease the prankster. The idea of him tugging her pants down in public, where she could not see him, was not her idea of a fun afternoon. It was more difficult to embarrass a cat. The hand that fell back to her side, which might have been covered in germs, tucked in close to her side. Her smile was forced. Aubre had managed to hold back her laughter.
The mistake made her even more nervous. The boy's words did little to stop the words that cycled around in her mind; it was her own thoughts that would dig her grave. The question ,one that popped up a lot (as she always looked terrified), was old news; then again, as most people despised being nosy, it was rarely asked aloud. "Y-yes, I am fine--right now, in this m-moment; I c-can't say anything about tomorrow..." She nervously smiled as fingertips traced the indents of dark veins on the front of her wrists. "Y-you can't help. T-thank you for asking t-though, Vincent; it means a l-lot..." Aubre just was not sure what the question exactly entailed. Did the boy think she was crazy? Was he frightened of whatever might make her look so scared? Was Vincent actually concerned? The cynic was certain it had more to do with the former, whether her mental state was contagious, than simple sympathy.
The main issue at hand, in this immediate moment, had to do with her Aunt and her applications. She doubted that this boy was a career counselor--or the force of nature that might move Lenore. "Most of it r-right now is trying to find w-work again--it's making my hair fall out.." A single strand of red hair, loose when she had quickly brushed her hair, was tugged out by the breeze. "It's making my fur turn grey---Ducky doesn't seem to get that it's not abnormal to take a week or two to find a job.." Aubre had been counting each and every day---it was far more than two weeks.
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Vincent Tram
NEUTRAL
Everyone has their own way of seeing. Some see the finer things or they just don't look.
Posts: 44
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Post by Vincent Tram on Sept 14, 2013 13:23:28 GMT -5
"No, you didn't interrupt anything." Vincent said. "If anyone interrupted anything it was Haunt but it's fine. Since it's not the first time he's done it, I can find it easy to forgive him. Don't worry, Roko will get Spark to calm down. Spark's normally a very calm pikachu, but....he just gets very protective due to Haunt scaring me. Otherwise, they all get along great."
Roko returned and walked over to Vincent. His gaze went to Haunt were he cleared his throat at the ghost pokemon. Although by this point, the Persian had pointed out Haunt's doings and this caused Vincent to look at the ghost pokemon.
"Enjoying yourself?" Vincent asked Haunt, only for the haunter to laugh and disappear, Vincent sighed.
"I'd take that as a yes." Roko answered, Vincent just shrugged as Roko looked at Aubre. "Sorry about Haunt, hard to keep him from scaring anyone." Roko dipped his head.
"Roko's a real gentlemen of a pokemon so you can only expect good manners and attitude from him. He's a good friend just like Spark is." Vincent told Aubre as he looked at her.
Spark returned and went over to Vincent. The pikachu jumped onto Vincent shoulder as Vincent listened to Aubre talk. So it seemed she was having problems finding a job as well.
"Looks like we're in the same boat. I was just looking at a newspaper before Haunt scared me. I'm trying to find one as well." Vincent said. "I go to the University, although I have a scholarship it's not enough to live on while there. It only pays for so much."
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Post by Aubre Ellen McKenna on Sept 15, 2013 4:07:50 GMT -5
The self-confidence issues, brought about by hours of staring at a ruined back, were rearing their ugly head. She was not positive if her presence truly bothered Vincent. Aubre truly hoped she was not trespassing on this boy and his Pokemon; there might be a lot of reasons he had chosen such a secluded place. Besides, as Vincent had been doing something else and was now speaking to her instead, the redhead thought her actions fit the dictionary definition of interrupting. She hated arguing. Three more times, as if to amplify her lack of opinion, she shook her head. “H-he did not interrupt a-anything I was doing; I hope he did not inconvenience you. It was hard to interrupt me to be honest—I wasn’t doing all t-that much.” The denial had more to do with his references to his ghost-type than anything. Aubre did not want to anger the specter by placing blame on him. Aubre was not certain if she agreed with the brunette’s forgiveness; his cardiac muscles, with all these frights and screams, might look like Swiss-cheese by the time the Haunter was finished. The boy knew his Pokemon. The redhead could still not resist, after being repeatedly told they were in no danger, from looking expectantly at the distant specks of orange and yellow. She hoped that ‘kind’ Pikachu was not overly protective—in the wrong light, Aubre could look threatening.
The Persian, growing tired of childish antics, had felt prompted to speak out. Arthur was a coward to his core—that did not mean he enjoyed watching others being mocked. Cream fur disliked the close presence of a specter; it now stuck up in a variety of directions from agitation. His great head nodded a greeting at the approaching rodent and Vulpix. He resisted his natural urge to chase after the little lemon-rat as it raced by. It was Arthur, instead of his smaller trainer, that spoke up after the Haunter had finally disappeared from view: “It was not all that scary; he looked like he was trying to be funny—I doubt even Ducky could find that terrifying. I certainly did not. I’m not exactly fearless, Mister Vincent.” His tail, lashing with annoyance from the ghost-types performance, slowed to a stop. He lifted paw to his mouth as he began to chew at the dirt, debris, and bottom of his pads. The redhead, who was not frightened by Haunt, just deferred judgment to her feline. Her finger scratched at one of his ears as she gave a single nod.
The sight of a fire-type made her a bit nervous. Her jumpiness, as Roko reappeared, might have been a bit obvious. The cat at her side served as a banister. Were her nerves that obvious? “O-oh. I did not mean to imply that t-they were not good friends or a-anything less than perfect gentleman. T-they both seem lovely. H-haunt seems to have his benefits as well..” She hoped, by his prior and current words, that Arthur was not betraying himself in a bad light. The old cat, while easily frightened and quick to annoy, was an amazing friend, confidant, and family-member to his tiny owner.
Did they have to call it a boat? Ships were far too easy to sink to Aubre; she did not like the imagery that the word drummed up, one of tuxedo wearing sharks hungry for new employees. Her hand dropped back to her sides as she leaned against the tree: “I h-have been looking for a few weeks now; it feels a bit worthless sometimes. I know it’s not, that it will all p-pay off in the end. It d-doesn’t feel that way…” All of these applications, likely enough to plaster her entire apartment, and not a single call. The people who sent her e-mails, most of them scams, never replied back. The piles of red-hair around her apartment and aunt's home, shed out of stress, seemed very wasted. What was the point of doing 100 applications if most of these were never even looked at? Were over half of hers rotting in a garbage can somewhere? Did anyone even care about employment any longer?
He was a student? Aubre, now that she actually looked at the man, could easily discern that. Some part of her, remembering her days of schooling fondly, gave out a jealous (and completely mental) mewl. She wished she had never left the classroom. “O-oh? I was going to try to go back myself---my a-aunt has no issues with helping me out. She's offered me a place to stay. I just.." She lifted her shoulders in the tiniest of shrugs. A leaf, tossed by an angry wind, landed gently in the locks of her hair. Aubre began to toy with it. Green eyes turned to Vincent as she smiled. Her first sentence was left hanging as she switched topics (she did not want to take over the conversation): I don’t want to be a burden
A question, which felt awkward and weighty on her tongue, forced its way out: “W-what are you m-majoring in, Vincent? It’s o-kay if you don’t know yet—or if you think that’s a bit nosy. I w-was in chemistry. I’m just c-curious..” Why did she have to pick that particular adjective? It brought to mind images of kittens crushed under car tires. Just how much trouble did all of her questions get her in on a daily basis.
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Vincent Tram
NEUTRAL
Everyone has their own way of seeing. Some see the finer things or they just don't look.
Posts: 44
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Post by Vincent Tram on Sept 15, 2013 10:26:28 GMT -5
"Well, since Haunt didn't scare you guys he decided to try and make you laugh. A rare thing for him to do cause mainly it amuses him." Vincent said, hearing Arthur call him mister made Vincent laugh weakly. "Please, just call me Vincent. Mister is a bit....too formal for my tastes."
"Unlike my electric friend, I keep my temper under lock and key." Roko said. "But his temper is really nothing but a little tiny spark that can't do anything."
"Hey!" Spark said as he sat on Vincent's head to look at the vulpix. "What's that suppose to mean?" Roko turned round and sat back down to face Spark.
"Simple, you really can't do anything when you have a temper." VIncent sighed.
"Come on you two, you can spar later. But right now, I highly advised against it. Okay?" Vincent said and Roko nodded.
"Quite right." Roko said as he turned back around to face Aubre and bowed his head again. "My apologizes."
"Okay." Spark said.
"Sorry about that." Vincent said to Aubre. "I haven't had much success either, considering I'm trying to find a job that's within walking distance of the University. Since I don't have a bike nor a car."
Roko had risen and walked over to the newspaper and sat down. He then started to fold it up. Clearly by time this conversation was done, they would have to go back to the University for the remainder of the day and into the night. It was good that Vincent was meeting new people, and Roko was happy for that. He just hoped that some of the people he had meet would actually become friends. Once it was folded, he picked it up in his mouth and walked back over to where he was before. Sitting down and laying the newspaper down in front of him.
"I major in art, mainly sculpting though. I prefer to make things out of clay than anything else." Vincent answered. "It's okay."
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Post by Aubre Ellen McKenna on Sept 16, 2013 3:53:51 GMT -5
(Please do not respond for 12 hours)
The girl wanted to laugh a few times during that entire tirade. Aubre, being laughed or mocked a few times since her attack (mostly for how she spoke), would never intentionally hurt someone’s feelings. Her tongue, held between her teeth during that little performance, had nearly betrayed her once or twice. The idea that Haunt might be watching, invisible and intangible, made her keep a tight rein on her words. Besides, while she tried not to trust her judgment (without evidence), the ghost-type had not given off any malicious vibes. It was hard to do that while making bunny ears and giggling like a school-girl: “L-laughter is supposedly m-medicine; he would be a good comedian. If he happened to hurt your feelings, Mister Vincent, I doubt it was intentional…” Red shoes, turned pink by sun and time, shifted nervously in the grass. It was hard for Aubre, once outspoken and passionate, to hold her tongue. The images of a dark alley, filled with orange light, usually did the trick.There was no telling who might be a demon—Leon had seemed no different from this boy. Both males had talked to Aubre and made her laugh.
The feline, not the least flustered by the request (unlike his pink-cheeked mistress), inclined his head. Arthur usually chose to err on the side of caution; Aubre had built her own personal temple on it. When the normal-type spoke, his rich baritone an octave lower than Vincent, he seemed faintly amused: “May I call you Vinny then? Vincent? Vincent Vidi Vici? You may call me Art, Arty, or Kitty if you like—my trainer answers to ‘Ducky’ too. For some reason, Arceus knows why, she does not respond to 'Duck'.” The short-girl did not say a word (even if she did not like that nickname). For a moment, eyes gaining their former glow, Aubre wondered at the origins of that bird-related nickname. What about her was the least bit like a mallard? Did she waddle when she walked? The cat, who could feel the befuddlement, just let his smile stretch into a mischievous line.
Tiny sparks could not do anything? Did the Vulpix not understand how closely correlated flame and faulty appliances were? Aubre had been on her knees a lot of nights, out of paranoia, checking all the wiring for any sign of defect. Tightening her hands at her side, forcing the rest of her body to relax, the orange-haired girl just offered a smile: “Y-you seem to be very stable and easy-going, sir.” Fire-types just made her nervous. She could understand how easily, with a licking of flame, locks snapped and keys proved useless—that phrase did not mean all that much. Up close, mostly due to her past, she found Roko far more worrying than the Pikachu. She just had to trust, if it came down to it, that her Persian could handle himself. With the way his chest was heaving, after a five minute walk, Aubre did not like her changes. The redhead would do everything she could to avoid a fight. Vincent beat her to quelling the one on the horizon. “It’s o-okay; people argue and have trouble getting along sometimes—it’s nothing new..” Why did arguments ever have to exist? That was a question she doubted she would answer in the park. She missed her applications: they did not ask her the meaning of life (or other similar nonsense).
The girl could not empathize on the issue of transportation. She had picked a home at the hub. She also had a flying-type and a Pokemon made for riding. The latter was actually quicker than traveling by car--the streets in Nada Citadel were terrible. Either way, in the fact that they were both unemployed, they were united in a common purpose: “O-oh. T-that can be rather inconvenient. H-have you asked any friends about lending you one or renting y-you one? O-of course you have, it’s s-sort of obvious.” She did not want to ruin his day or his morale (her mind did that enough to her) “You’ll find something, Vincent..” Green eyes followed the little fire-fox as he began to fold the paper. Was she ruining the job-hunt? Was she supposed to leave? What did you talk about to someone who might, like you, end up hungry tomorrow? Did they know any amazing soup kitchens or shelters?
His major may have surprised her. She hoped, as she loved science, that Vincent did not assume they were different. Aubre adored museums and creativity—she just was too self-conscious to express those things. “A-art? I can’t draw to save my life—m-maybe if I actually had to survive.” She paused. “ I c-can’t sculpt either. I never bothered to learn. Which is just an issue on my p-part…” A shaky breath that quelled tremulous hands, and the redhead stared at the spires of a clock-tower in the distance. She remembered her school having a building just like that on campus. “Do you like it? Avarius, I m-mean?” It was just a school. It was just like every other school in the region. Why did she want to walk toward it so badly? She didn’t have the money for that place. She was done with pipe-dreams. Judging by her eyes, staring at that distant building, the dreams were not done with Aubre.
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