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Post by Mama Weaver on Oct 5, 2013 2:33:09 GMT -5
MAMA WEAVER FEMALE NEUTRAL BISEXUAL 300-400 SOME ODD YEARS OLD (currently cursed)ANTIQUE SHOP OWNER
Fuschia-colored eyes moved back and forth, continually scanning the surrounding area. The sound of just-barely audible footsteps echoed slightly throughout the streets as a slender feminine figure slowly moved through the streets. Wrapped around her was a fancy-looking purple fur-lined coat. The hair belonging to this feminine figure was long; it went down to about mid-back and was straight for the most part. A light breeze caused some of the shorter strands to blow in front of the figure's face, and light chocolate brown hands quickly brushed the hair aside. Accompanying this female was an oddly-colored Lucario. The Lucario was a few different shades of purple and seemed to not be worried, despite being in the worst part of Nada Citadel. As the purple-haired woman and accompanying Lucario passed through the streets, not many eyes turned toward the two. It seemed as though that at this time of night, even the criminals had other things on their mind than a stray woman and her Lucario. Perhaps it was the fact she was accompanied by a Pokemon that drove possible predators or assailants away. After all, despite there being quite a few Pokemon in the slums, as well as a few deadbeat trainers, not many wanted to try going after someone with a Pokemon. Well, that's what the two thought, anyways. A couple of people began following the woman and Lucario from the shadows. The two didn't seem to take notice at all. They continue on casually, the woman pulling her coat around her a smidgen tighter as the wind picked up momentarily. The two stalkers each had companions of their own, and eventually split up; one following from above, one following on the ground. The woman and Lucario turned down an alleyway, the woman humming a tune to herself, seemingly still oblivious to the fact she was being followed. The alleyway ended up being a dead end, and the woman made a pouty face, sticking out her lips and furrowing her brow whilst placing her right hand on her hip. " How uncouth. I could've sword this went straight through," she complained. The Lucario didn't seem fazed at all by the sudden turn of events. " Ugggh. You'd think after being here all these years I'd at least remember what streets led where. I must be losing my mind," the woman said with a giggle. She lightened up and turned to head back the way they came, but was confronted by a single man and a Liepard. She blinked in surprise at the sudden appearance of someone else. " All right, madam, hand over whatever you have on you, and you and your Pokemon won't get hurt," the guy said. The woman tilted her head as she stared at the man, almost as if she were confused. " Hand over... whatever I have... on me... Oh! You must be looking to rob me or something, right?" she said as she smacked her fist into her other open palm, as if she had just caught on. The Lucario backed up a little, but was met with a growl; turning around, another man had appeared, with a Poochyena by his side. The first man looked dumbfounded; how idiotic was this broad? " Uh... y-yes. Now, if you'd so kindly--"the first man said, but was interrupted by the woman. " I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I don't have anything on me right now. You caught me at a bad time. I'm sorry," the woman said with a charming smile. The first man gave her a look as if to say 'What the heck is up with her?' " Well, if you aren't going to willingly hand anything over, then we'll have to search you... forcefully," the man behind her said with a smirk. " Forcefully? Ooh, that sounds like fun. I'm sure you two boys would love some female company, am I right?" the woman asked, as though she still weren't grasping the situation. The men stopped mid-step, eyeing the woman weirdly. " Ignore what she's saying. Just get whatever she has on her," the second man said. The Poochyena lunged toward the woman, who acted terrified at first, but at last second, a smirk came to her face. The what seemed like weak and terrified Lucario suddenly materialized a long, sturdy bone in its hands and used it to beat down the Poochyena lunging at them. " ... the heck? Liepard, don't let them make a fool of us!" the first man said. " Tch. Unlikely. That mangy mutt didn't know left from right," the Liepard growled. The woman covered her ears, and before anyone could ask why, the Lucario rubbed together the metal spikes on its paws, emitting an ear-splitting sound that caused both of the other humans to cover their ears. The Lucario then temporarily vanished, appearing above and behind the dazed Liepard, striking it with the bone in its hands. It immediately went down, and the Lucario went after the two humans this time, giving them both a good thwack on the head. " Oh... I think we may have overdone it a bit, Jewel," the woman said as she watched the two men and their Pokemon lay on the ground, twitching. " Oops," Jewel responded with a sigh. The purple Lucario raised its paws and aimed them at the two Pokemon, a soothing pink light shooting out toward them; a healing move. " It's a shame about you two... I'd have loved some company as well. It gets lonely in my shop sometimes," the woman responded as she and the Lucario traced their steps back out to the open street. " Thanks for accompanying me, Jewel," the woman said to the Lucario as they trudged on down the street. " Of course, it's not a problem. After all, if something's changed or it's worn off, then I'd like to be the first to know about it. I'm itching to go places we've not been able to go," the Lucario responded with a soft, calm voice. A solemn expression made its way to the woman's face. " You aren't alone," she said slowly, closing her eyes and sighing softly. Then her eyes flew open and got a peculiar look in them as she looked to Jewel. " You knew about those guys back there, right?" she asked. Jewel shrugged. " Of course. I didn't think they'd have enough balls to come out at us, or I'd have said something sooner," Jewel said. " Ha! Well, that's why I went down that alleyway," the woman said with a smug expression. " You... what..." Jewel said in an exasperated. Jewel inhaled deeply and let out a sigh, slouching over forward a bit as she walked. " I should have figured you'd do something like that," the Lucario said. The duo continued down the dirty streets in silence, headed in a general eastward direction. Run-down of post: Mama & Jewel are out on a walk, checking boundaries. They run into some thugs, Jewel deals with them. Mama & Jewel continue their walk. and the wheel of time rolls on
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Post by Harper Mann on Oct 6, 2013 3:43:41 GMT -5
(Please don't respond for at least 24 hours)
The slum was her kingdom. Harper felt like she ruled over it all. She just needed to steal a crown and scepter--that would prove it! Maybe she could find one of those pretty little crowns for smaller girls!
The six-year old, a willowy thing with more bone than fat, had declared herself its princess. Her new dress, pink and from a local thrift-store, was the nicest thing she had ever owned. The only issue on its surface, beside it being a bit too big and far too old, was a single stain on the underside of its skirt. Her daddy, a grumpy and surly Liepard, had given it to her the day before; she had made him nearly a thousand dollars in a day. That single ring, sparkling like broken glass, had sold for likely a fiftieth of its real value. The girl had no idea that she had fed her family for a week--by robbing some sour old woman--Harper just knew she had a beautiful new dress.
The fabric, after being worn less than a few hours, had a giant tear in it. Dark blue eyes, the color of dark-wash jeans, stared at the rip in aghast horror. A piece of metal, twisted like an old crone's finger, scraped her bare hips and poked through the pinky-sized gash. Her eyes had swelled to the size of tennis balls. The games, where she raced about dancing with invisible suitors, ended with that horrendous sound. The tears began to fall as she wiped furiously at her eyes. Her Pokemon, a tiny and amiable litle Castform, drifted closer to see what was the matter. Pink fabric was nearly jammed up his nose. The sobbing, silent at first, grew in volume. She'd ruined her daddy's gift! She was a bad princess!
Grey slowly twisted into blue; a rain-cloud formed beneath he tiny weather-ball. His body turned into a drop of water. His face, unable to make nose, gave a concerned frown. He nuzzled his trainer with a cool cheek. Cumulus hated not being able to verbally comfort his little friend. He nearly pitched to the ground, face-first, when he opened his eyes. The little scamp had vanished! Where had she went? Was she going to get into a fight with some rusty nail for her dress! Oh no! He was a horrible garden.
The noises of a nearby confrontation, missed by the normal-type in the throes of fatherly worry, had drawn the curious girl's attention. Bare-feet, flying across rust-coated roofs as if it was a friendly carpet, raced toward the alleyway. Deep inside, 'cornered' by two thugs, some pretty lady--with skin like the chocolate caramel her father had given her once--seemed to be at a wit's end. Standing silently beside a steel column, once the chimney for a popular factory, the curious gaze watched the situation unfold. Her mouth dropped open as the attack occured--and was prompty dispelled. That cat was a disgrace to her daddy! The thief king could have showed that stupid dog who was boss! The girl, in the midst of the fighting, gave a noise of disappointment; Harper always cheered for the feline---especially when they were playing her favorite game.
The pair, dog and old-lady, walked off into the distance. Harper, quickly assessing her path, jumped across to the next building--she did nto even notice the twenty foot fall beneath her toes. The reappearance of her silent companion, eyes relieved at his discovery, did not even register. The tears, while present, were steadily drying---she could get stuff from this funny person! Those men just sucked at it! Harper grinned at Cumulus. The normal-type shook his head.
Heavily-calloused feet were a blur as the willowy girl followed behind them---she stayed out of sight. Just like with the other young men, she needed an opening. People didn't like playing the game in the opening. An alley merged with the bigger one a few feet away.
Dumpster. Ladder. Floor.
Harper waited. The little cloud, knowing what was coming next, gave a sigh. Why did his little mistress pick this fight? Didn't she know how dangerous that dog was? How had a six-year old gotten such a big-head?
"Ready, Moo? One.....two....."
The blue-haired girl, crouched behind a dumpster, readied her assault.
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Post by Mama Weaver on Oct 7, 2013 5:24:31 GMT -5
MAMA WEAVER FEMALE NEUTRAL BISEXUAL 300-400 SOME ODD YEARS OLD (currently cursed)ANTIQUE SHOP OWNER
Unbeknownst to all four; the lady with purple hair, the purple Lucario, Harper, and the Castform; a fifth figure was stalking them ever so quietly, gliding quickly and swiftly through the shadows, blending in with anything and everything. It avoided well-lit areas and seemed to move in and out of things freely, as if it were able to phase through them. If one were to catch a glimpse of this being, they might see a flash of menacing-looking red eyes, but nothing more. The fifth figure watched the two thugs attack and promptly be counter-attacked and tossed aside by the purple Lucario like a ragdoll with amusement. It also kept an eye on the young girl on top of an old factory; what was her purpose? It would seemed to have known what the woman and Lucario were doing, as it could predict exactly where they were going, while also keeping to enough shadows to conceal its presence and keep an eye on the young girl following the two on ground. As the little girl made her way silently along, scaling rooftops like she was some sort of ninja or something, the figure got to thinking; this was no ordinary little girl. And, judging from her position, currently behind a dumpster, looking ready to pounce, she would have to be some sort of thief. But, for being that young and moving with that sort of skill -- what had the slums come to these days? Time to make my presence known, kekeke...As Harper readied her assault on the old lady, the figure slowly melted into the shadows, making its way quickly toward the dumpster. Without a sound, a semi-transparent blob of purple began materializing from the dumpster, accompanied with glowing red eyes. " Hmm... a little girl... tonight has just become all the more interesting," A Gengar came out of the dumpster, a raising one of its arms as long, black tendrils extended from the tips of the fingers, in the shape of claws; a Shadow Claw; ready to attack itself. Meanwhile, with the other twoThe woman and Lucario trudged along at a somewhat slow and relaxed pace, oblivious to what was going on out of sight for them. " Now, if I remember correctly, being serious now... it should be about... here," the lady said quietly. The lady and Lucario looked down and over. The street was old, but there was an indefinite mark embedded into the old pavement. It was hard to tell what it was, exactly, but it resembled a scorch mark of sorts. The woman sighed and attempted to continue forward, but seemed to get held in place after only a couple of steps, shaking from the strain she was under in an attempt to go further. She eventually gave up and took some steps back, breathing heavily. " Take it easy, you aren't as young as you used to be, you know," the Lucario said with a concerned look on her face. The woman gave a weak smile. " None of us are." Run-down of post: A Gengar has been stalking the stalker The Gengar acts like it's ready to attack Harper The woman and Lucario talk about... things & the woman fails to go past a certain point The woman and Lucario don't take notice of the Gengar & Harper, yet and the wheel of time rolls on
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Post by Harper Mann on Oct 10, 2013 0:02:08 GMT -5
[
The little girl did not have any back-up. Her “father” was asleep in an abandoned warehouse. Her brothers and sisters, who Harper deemed cowards, rarely strayed this far. The only weapons on her, beside a nearly useless Castform, were her natural tenacity and boldness. While they might have filled up the entire dome, when allowed free, these things would not help her against a Gengar. Ghosts weren’t weak to spit-and-vinegar. To be honest, if that thing attacked, the little thief didn’t stand a chance.
To be sitting on the alleyway, behind a dumpster, put a lot of Butterfree in Harper’s stomach. Most of her time was spent far above the ground or in the darkness. She did not enjoy being so exposed—the fog could not protect her. The lady, with such a strong guard, had to have something on her; the Liepard, the girl’s father, always told stories—the biggest points in the game came from the places with the best defense. If she actually didn’t have anything worthwhile, when those two bad-players accosted her, the purple-haired lady wouldn’t have fought back! Harper had to psych herself up. It would be a snatch and grab. Harper was a master-thief!
The side of her torn dress was pressed tightly against the dumpster. She shivered as rusty medal pressed against her ribcage. A few toes, especially her largest one, jutted out from behind the trash bin. Her fingers tightened around its lip. Navy eyes narrowed. Ebony ones, those of her Castform just showed a sense of defeat. She repeated her earlier count as the woman walked by; it would be better to wait a few seconds—until Harper remembered what came after two: “One, two, Three! Come on Moo!” The hushed whisper occurred as she rocketed away from the garbage receptable. A mute noise of worry, as the Castform froze in horror, made her pause. The stupid little thing wasn’t listening to her again! Fists grew tighter. Harper would punch him good the second they finish—what was he looking at? Navy eyes stared at the ghost an inch from her nose. The thief shrieked.
It was a mean and nasty ghost! It was going to eat her! Instead of running away, like a lot of little girls, Harper did something that was likely unexpected. Her foot, her only sandals held together by duct-tape, snapped out like a punch. Being a ghost, with no real corporeal being, this did not go as planned (and her frightened aim might have been off). Ironically enough, or maybe intentional, her toes were heading for what might correspond as a crotch. She shouted irritably at the giant purple blob. He ruined everything! “You scared Harper! Meanie! Ass!” Maybe what happened next seemed like a punishment—she’d just used a nasty word. Her foot practically shattered on impact with the pine-colored container. This time a yelp, of pain, forced its way out. She grabbed a hold of her foot, already purple, and stumbled backward clutching her toes. Somehow, years of training kept her from falling over. Tears bristled on her light-colored lashes. The anger on her face, now hotter and more prevalent, became more apparent—she hated looking weak!
The Castform, quivering with fear, backed away from the Gengar. Inside his bubble, his head visible, he shook it a few times. Why was this ghost here? Why did his mistress insist on fighting such a beast? Would it not just go away? Cumulus truly despised being mute sometimes. He couldn’t even apologize for his trainer’s actions. He seemed to fold and shrink inside himself. Shifting slightly, so he bobbed beside the little girl, Cumulus grew more protective—at least he didn’t have the ability to piss himself.
"Daddy's gonna get him!"
Neither had any idea that the Gengar was related to their target. This attack seemed random—that didn’t mean Harper was going to back down!
(Please don't respond for at least 24 hours)
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Post by Mama Weaver on Oct 11, 2013 3:00:09 GMT -5
MAMA WEAVER FEMALE NEUTRAL BISEXUAL 300-400 SOME ODD YEARS OLD (currently cursed)ANTIQUE SHOP OWNER
The Gengar didn't have any intention of actually hurting the girl or the Castform accompanying her. In fact, he had just wanted to scare them a bit. The sudden lashing out with the little girls' leg was quite unexpected, and the Gengar was a bit surprised, to say the least. The Gengar cringed himself slightly at the sound of the girls' foot making impact on the large container; oops. Perhaps he'd picked the wrong tactics... or, well, the wrong kid to scare. And the sudden insults by the little girl surprised the Gengar even more. What surprised him most was her ability to still stand after that powerful kick that went right through the Gengar and keep her composure. Instead of screaming like most people, especially young kids, would do, she let the tears stream silently from her eyes. As the Castform backed away and began hovering in front of the girl, the Gengar recovered from his surprise. The menacing glare quickly dissipated, and the tendrils of darkness in the shape of claws disappeared. 'Daddy' was going to get him? The Gengar wondered who this daddy was, when his thoughts were interrupted by a scolding. Some shouts got Teresa's and Jewel's attention; they turned to see Jeff poised over a young girl, acting as though he were ready to attack; Teresa knew better, but, still... what was Jeff thinking?! Both the lady and the dog hurried over to the mess unfolding before them. " JEFF! What in the world did you do?!" Teresa exclaimed, looking down at the enraged little girl. Jeff opened his mouth to speak, but then turned away, a look of guilt on his face. It was obvious this Gengar wasn't like normal Gengars. " It was an accident, Mama. I was only aimin' to scare 'er a bit, didn't mean for her to hurt 'erself," Jeff said, rubbing the back of what would likely be his head. Teresa sighed. She looked to the girl and the Castform, nothing but kindness in her eyes. " Well, I'll ask questions later. However, as compensation for one of my own causing you problems... the least I could do is invite you to my home to have a look at the foot of yours," she said. And maybe get you some food... poor thing. I wonder how often she gets to eat... Teresa added in her thoughts. " My apologies, m'lady," Jeff said to Harper, keeping his distance so as to not further provoke her, lest she accidentally hurt herself again. " He really means no harm. He's just a giant, uh... well, he's like a giant kid that just has too much free time and gets himself into heaps of trouble," Jewel said. The purple dog had a concerned look on her face; it pained her to see such a young child in this state. Jeff hadn't helped at all, but she wasn't going to scold him like a little child. He already knew that things were not in a good way. and the wheel of time rolls on
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Post by Harper Mann on Oct 13, 2013 4:24:26 GMT -5
The jarring noise of the dumpster, a deep sound, echoed around the alleyway. The loudness of it may have shocked the pain away—for a short while. While the girl looked shock, her foot already changing color, her Castform looked as if he was about to cry. A cool cheek nuzzled hers; unlike his Grandmother, supposedly a Chansey or Cleftki, Cumulus did not have the ability to heal wounds. As the tears began to drip faster, drenching the cracked concrete, he could not even offer words.
While it seemed that the thief was a master of balance, even with a foot shattered in one or two places, her current stance was deceiving. The wall behind her, built of dirty brick, was supporting parts of her upper body. The evidence of its embrace was easily observable; crumbling stone left traces of red stone up and down Harper’s bony back and formerly pink dress. The cries began to bubble in her chest as she let them out with jabbing fingers and profanity. Daddy hated when you cried—big and well-behaved girls didn’t cry after all! One hand gently brushed her Castform’s face (who was still quaking). Blue eyes narrowed dangerously at the Gengar—she’d kick him in another naughty place!
The old Liepard, in his far-off youth, might have been able to take on a Gengar. Now, with one leg a twisted lump of useless flesh and a constant limp, “Cribbins” was lucky to make it outside of his warehouse. Harper, when she looked or thought of the purple cat, imagined an animal in its prime—she saw god itself in those elegant limbs and face. When the tendrils disappeared, the Castform reacted somewhat. Harper sniffed derisively—at least the dumb ghost knew a threat when he heard one! The little girl was about to give him more of her mind, none of it complimentary, when the ‘target’ appeared on the scene.
When the shouts came, reminding Harper vaguely of her father’s yelling, the girl shifted self-consciously. It took her a moment to realize, not only had she not had a chance to do anything wrong, but that this motherly voice was female. The blue-haired girl, used to taking the blame for being naughty, pointed vehemently at the ghost. Her eyes grew wider as she allowed the faucets to flow. People sometimes gave her candy when she cried. Seeing no reason to keep her fur-up, a phrase her ‘father’ used for defensive, Harper sank to the ground. Snot poured out of her nose as she allowed herself to cry. Harper enjoyed getting annoying ghosts in trouble! He’d pay for hurting her foot! The smelly specter’s mother (which Harper somehow decided Theresa was) would pelt him good! A smile flashed occasionally as the shouting continued.
When Mama Weaver turned toward the girl, who gave an obligatory sniffle, the Castform smiled. Frightening Pokemon or not, this woman seemed kind enough. He gave no other response. To be honest, with death nearly hanging over him, Cumulus was still in shock. Suffice to say, as he was still a bit muddled, it took him a moment to realize an offer had been made. Harper nodded vehemently. The little normal-type, fearing for this dark-haired woman’s possessions, gave a solitary shake of his head. “Is it a nice house? I bets it’s not as nice as daddy’s house…!” Her foot still ached. The purple had spread across the top part. The curiosity, and prospect of netting a great score in ‘the game’, served as a temporary balm. If she tried to poke her with anything, like those naughty people in white coats, Harper would fight back! The slim thief hated doctors—she also despised being touched by strange people.
The apology from the ghost was met with haughtiness; Harper just shook her head. Her nose instantly pointed skyward. She had also misunderstood Jeff’s apology: “I’m not a ‘malady’! Na-uh! I’m Harper—stupid jerkface.” One hand placed itself on the wall behind her. Fingertips turned black as years of ash clung to them. The blue-haired girl did not seem to notice or care. The Castform on the other hand, watching as the fabric of his traner’s top was further ruined, just shook his head. Weren’t cats meant to be all about hygiene and cleanliness? Why had his ‘daughter’ missed out on those lessons.
The second her bad foot touched the ground, something shifting inside, the six-year old nearly buckled. Teeth, with a few gaps where some had fallen out, chewed at her bottom lips. She’d get to this lady’s house! She had a purple puppy, violet hair, and a stupid ghost of the same color. Mama Weaver had to have some stuff! Daddy might kiss his daughter’s boo-boo all better ! Determination bloomed.
Harper let her weight fell fully on her bruised and battered foot.
Red-rimmed eyes turned to stare angrily at the ghost.
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Post by Mama Weaver on Oct 20, 2013 21:24:06 GMT -5
MAMA WEAVER FEMALE NEUTRAL BISEXUAL 300-400 SOME ODD YEARS OLD (currently cursed)ANTIQUE SHOP OWNER
The Gengar was surprised at the animosity toward him; although the girl could clearly not do anything to him unless he let her, she still had that burning look in her eyes that said she'd find something to do to him in retaliation. And when he was getting scolded a bit by Teresa, the girl seemed to enjoy it. This little girl dumbfounded Jeff; she was not anything like the stereotypical little girl he'd seen around. In fact, he hadn't ever seen this little girl around before. So, either she kept to herself very well most of the time, or she was a recent addition to the slums. No matter the case, Jeff was now in a position that he knew he was in trouble, and would welcome any punishment given to him. Teresa was intrigued by the girls' question. Was her house nice? Well, it was decent enough, for being in the slums. She wondered who this 'daddy' was that she spoke of. The odd shake of the Castform's head made Teresa wonder even further. " Oh, I don't know. We try to manage. It's probably nothing like your daddy's place--after all, there's no place like home, right?" Teresa said with a smile. Jewel gave a soft laugh at Harper's misinterpretation of what Jeff had said. " Oh, he didn't say 'malady,' sweetie. He said 'my lady,' but with his accent it sounds like 'malady.' His voice sounds a bit funny," Jewel said in an attempt to lighten to mood a bit. It was quite entertaining to see someone standing up to Jeff and his shenanigans. That hadn't happened before. Teresa had to give kudos to this Harper girl--judging from the sound, she must have done some damage to her foot, yet she was still willing to walk on it. However, since she was partially responsible for what had happened, and until she could get a closer look at Harper's foot, she wasn't going to allow her to walk on it and possibly further damage it. " Harper, was it? I know you're a big, tough girl--but I don't think it's a smart idea to be walking on that foot at the moment. You could possibly make it worse, causing it to not heal properly," Teresa said. " Perhaps you could let Jewel or I carry you back to my place?" she asked, motioning to the purple Lucario or herself. and the wheel of time rolls on
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Post by Harper Mann on Oct 22, 2013 3:14:45 GMT -5
To be fair, about half of the glaring was hot air. Like a kitten turning into a ball of fluff, staring down potential predators with little canines, Harper learned to make herself seem more intimidating. Her brothers and sisters, when wanting to pick on her, were never quite sure if an attack was coming—or a hair-pulling at the very least. Her father, wanting scrappy and tough little brats, allowed them to fight for dominance. The more resilient they were, like well-trained Pokemon, the more efficient they were likely to be at their jobs (for some reason he believed they must level up in some manner). The thief team kept to going out in the late-night hours and never this far towards the nice neighborhoods; police officers, which she treated like Jeff, always accosted homeless orphans with questions here. The little girl just saw the Gengar, big and scary or not, as something to be shooed away. It was all about pecking order.
The little Castform saw the place for what it was: hell for even the most grateful of squatters. The dusting that was done once a month did little to clean the place; it still rained when storm clouds rumbled above. The wall on one side was just a mess of rust and naked beams. He preferred his days living in the park; he sometimes still slept outside. It was no place to raise a child. It was far worse than any true home. Harper on the other hand was proud of her little blanket in the corner. She nodded: “Yes! It’s huge! It’s like three of this alleys! Daddy did good!” Her arms stretched out to illustrate. Her father took her mind off pain; some said that simple prayer had the same effect with practicioners. Her upward-twisted lips showed off the gap of a missing tooth.
The big purple dog, who reminded her of ‘Barney’ she had seen once, drew the little girl’s dark eyes. Daddy said she was supposed to dislike dogs; she would remember, while she was nice, to look at this one and be a cautious little soldier. She wouldn’t fall for it! She would be nice and let the puppy by nice, that did not mean she loved dogs! She more mad at the ghost; she still glared at him through lashes that were nearly white. “….so, like a princess, daddy always calls me his perfect princess----still think he said that other thing, though. He seems like he would.“ To be honest, most of the time, that term was followed with a comment about her misbehavior, qualities of annoyance, and general bad attitude. The comment about his voice drew a few vehement nods; the nasty ghoul talked plenty funny!
Pink lips stiffened visibly as her jaw jutted forward in stubbornness. She planted her weight more fully on her toes. They shrieked. The tears were blinked away as her fists curled. Tough girls didn’t cry! They didn’t scream (unless it might get them money). The idea that her foot might not ‘heel’ scared her; did that mean it would misbehave? Would it stop listening to her? Would it be twisted and look like daddy’s foot? The six-year old began to be afraid. She gulped. The Castform nuzzled her. The navy eyes were now dripping tears as she shouted back. “I don’t want it to heel badly! I want a good foot—you can’t play no game without a good foot..” Dark blue eyes moved between Mama Weaver and her purple-companion. She chewed at her lips. Daddy would be mad if she ran off, right? Was it far? Harper turned toward her house. Her foot really hurt—maybe the lady had some nice stuff to take.
The Liepard, her father, wouldn’t mind if she disappeared then. Finally, not realizing it was an either or question, Harper just nodded. “Let’s go! I bet it’s all purple!” A quiet little sob was choked back. Her foot was beginning to match the color of the Lucario. It was likely fractured--at least. Bruises would soon erupt beneath dirty skin. Frowning, staring from the woman to the dog, the little girl frowned. "Will the dog bite me--dad says they always bite." Then she turned to Mama Weaver." You ain't a Pokemon though--you can't carry me. You're a lady." The fact that the Pokemon was also human, with some apparent powers, was lost upon the child.
Hands rubbed at dirty knees. They were far too terrified to move any lower--touching boo-boos usually hurt.
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Post by Mama Weaver on Jan 16, 2014 4:29:45 GMT -5
MAMA WEAVER FEMALE NEUTRAL BISEXUAL 300-400 SOME ODD YEARS OLD (currently cursed)ANTIQUE SHOP OWNER
Judging by how Harper described the place, it must be a really big house. Or building. She obviously didn't come from one of the nicer homes in town, or she wouldn't look the way she did or do the things she did. It did make her wonder what kind of person this girls' father was, to have her running wild like this. Jeff, sensing they'd be better off without his presence, slowly melted into the shadows. " I'll be back at the shop," Jeff said before completely disappearing. Teresa gazed at Harper with a fondness in her eyes -- how long had it been since she'd spent this much time outside the shop with someone? And someone of Harper's age, at that? Far too long, she decided. She missed seeing kids run around and play. She couldn't go to the park to watch kids, she could only wander eternally about the Slums. When Harper said she couldn't play a game with a bad foot, that really got to Teresa. Here Harper was, Arceus knows how young, and all she wanted to do was play and be a normal however-old-she-was girl, whatever 'normal' was for her. Little did she know what sort of life Harper lived, perhaps for the better for her not to know. "Let's go! I bet it'll be all purple!"Teresa laughed softly at that. Was it that obvious she liked the color purple? Her smile quickly faded when she asked if 'the dog would bite her.' Her daddy told her that? "What? No! Jewel would never bite anyone! For your daddy to say that they bite... that's just rude of him. He might've had a bad experience or some quarrel with some... dogs... but don't let his problems make you see things for what they aren't Harper. Just because someone says something bad about someone or something doesn't mean that it's true, she said, kneeling down next to Harper. "It's like saying that all people who wear black are thugs, and all little girls who wear dresses are trouble-makers," she said, ending it with a smile. "Pardon the intrusion, but I will say this -- Mama might be a female, but she isn't a proper lady. Not in the bad way, but she doesn't let others do her work for her. She won't sit back and do nothing," Jewel said. Almost as if on cue, Teresa reached in to swoop up Harper into her arms. "I may look old, but--" she stopped, wondering how to word things. "appearances can be deceiving," she decided on. and the wheel of time rolls on
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Post by Harper Mann on Jan 19, 2014 5:51:53 GMT -5
It was a shithole. Harper, while she described a big and airy play-place, lived in nothing more than a glorified rat-hole. Decent parents would rather have condemned the place then allow their children within it. Shattered glass, old metal pieces, and ancient machines dotted the insides. Ratty curtains and blankets, serving as sheets, decorated the place in little spots of color. Only two light bulbs, both in the very back of the shop, worked with any regularity; it was little wonder that most children, especially those with poor vision, cried in the dark. This alleyway was likely, even with her broken foot and dirty feet, far safer than her home. To the child—who worshipped her father—it seemed to be a castle.
Dark blue eyes, turning towards the ghost, narrowed irritably. Her lips pulled back slightly from her teeth; it was something her father did to look frightening. On the little blue-haired girl, missing most of her front teeth, it looked humorous. She was still mad at the purple-ghost. She could hold grudges for quite a while. Bribery was often the only solution to her little tantrums.
The Castform, aware of the ghoul’s apology and guilt, nodded his head in farewell. He immediately returned to attempting to nurse his young charge. Cumulus truly wished, even if they were tiny, to possess at least two thumbs. The world was not built for those without limbs—it was not as if he wished to live in a bowling alley. He could do little to help his trainer. His levitation abilities could barely pick up a show. The weather Pokemon doubted that a sudden downpour, or blizzard, would assist the tiny thief in her pain. He could not even speak. The lttle guardian prayed the adults did the proper thing.
The little girl liked purple. The conclusion that Teresa liked the same came from three sources: her hair color, the dog’s color, and the shade of that stupid ghost. All of these things made her a bit more trusting—as long as it wasn’t the butt-headed Gengar. Her daddy was purple too! The old Liepard called it ‘fuchsia’ however. The same color on another creature made the girl a bit more admirable. The idea of a purple house, with purple furniture, just made her excited. The laughter, a sign that the adult was crumbling to her words, made the little girl grin.
Face scrunched up in annoyance, good foot stomping into the concrete, Harper shook her head. “Daddy is never rude! He says that all dogs are naughty things that like to bite hands that feed them. “ She could picture that narrow muzzle tearing into her flesh. The young criminal, in truth, should have been more frightened of cats; it had been her father’s scars that had dotted her body with little white scars. Turning toward Jewel, with a frown, Harper shook her head. “ I ain’t feeding the thing either.” Dogs were dirty rotten scavengers according to the middle-aged feline; Harper wouldn’t be caught! The logic went a bit over her head. “No it’s not—that’s different. Black clothing is just color. Dresses are just—just---stuff.” She would ignore, even if it sounded correct, any things that contradicted her father. He had told her people would try to trick her. “My daddy is very smart.” Nodding twice, lips pushed outward, she turned toward the walking dog.
“Well good! She gotta work hard too. But ladies don’t go picking up things—“ Her little frame could lift only a little. Her “brothers” were the ones who did the heavy lifting. The little girl had opened her mouth to speak again, likely some piece of simplistic childhood logic, and yelped. The dark-haired woman had caught the little girl by surprise. Momentarily struggling, stopping the instant her foot protested, Harper just pouted. “That ain’t fair—you shoulda told me. You might have scared me!” Bony fingers, afraid of falling, grasped tightly to whatever she could grasp. The lack of meat on her frame, especially in her lack of weight, was apparent.
“You’re strong---I couldn’t do that yet. I will one day! Dad says that my mother was—“ The exact number was lost on her. Her fingers reached high into the air. “This tall.” Curling her injured foot inside, ignoring any pain, she waited. “I’m deceiving too—people think I’m. . .five.” Harper was six!
Finally, staring up at the sky, Harper felt dread grow in her stomach. How long had she been out here? Had she wandered too far again? Swallowing, fingering a fresh scratch on her forearm, the blue-haired girl made a request. “Can you take me home—pretty lady? “ She pointed. “Dad’s gonna be mad.” It was away from the barrier. In truth, as she lacked her usual landmarks from on the ground, it was the wrong direction.
The Castform followed behind his trainer with concern. He nuzzled one dirty cheek.
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