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Post by Logan Hyde Garrison on Oct 26, 2013 20:40:47 GMT -5
He didn’t notice. People were scared of him when he was like this; when he was himself. The man, if he was aware, would never have understood it; putting him in a monkey suit, like every day at work, didn’t change anything—except shallow idiot’s reactions. Oh, there was another thing: he was far more comfortable without the suit, dress pants, dress shoes, and tie.
Maybe it was too dark to see—or Logan Garrison really didn’t overly care. He was over six-foot tall, built from many days spent in a gym, and covered in ink. People didn’t notice that most of the tattoos were just words of encouragement, old phrases from scholars, and names of beloved relatives. A few of those names had words of mourning. The rings on his fingers, two of them, were made from real silver; his father had given them to his only son in his will. His shirt, dark grey in color, was dotted with dark brown spots; it was a hole-filled tank-top and looked able to rip if the owner breathed too hard. His muscles were easily visible in his shoulders and arms. His pants, a few shades darker than the top, were trailing little threads. His worn trainers, dark red in color, had certainly seen better days. He had a bandana tied over the top of his head.
He was not in his pajamas. Logan had been painting. His one sister was moving back in, or claiming a desire to, and wanted her room repainted. He was only out in these old clothes because he had ran out of supplies. He had quickly left his own house, without caring that his cheeks had paint on them, to walk to the hardware store a few blocks away. It was a decent neighborhood. He did not care that his wallet and house keys were easily visible bulges in his pockets (though some thought it was a gun). Eyes the color of mercury lifted to the store signs.
He continued down the road. A little purple blur, an Aipom, was beside him. It had helped the tall human paint—and just ended up painting half of its body brown. It seemed rather chipper as it moved behind him. Logan frowned at its constant chattering; it was loud enough on the street without the constant yapping of some little ape. His hands were in his pockets.
People shied away from him like blood dripped from his hands or a knife rested in his palms. A few mothers grabbed their children’s hands a bit tighter when they strayed too close. Logan blinked at a minority of the people he passed; he waved when he passed a coworker ( who did not even recognize the blue-haired man outside of his finery).
The man swore when a hand, attached to a tail, nearly slammed itself into his head. He stumbled back and early fell on his ass on the sidewalk. He batted angrily at the appendage. He replied stoicly: “Hick! You’re such an idiot. Watch your tail.” The little monkey continued to wave it in front of his nose, Logan was allergic. The motion just resulted in a loud series of sneezes. Realizing what he had done, wilting a bit, the tiny purple simian took a few steps back. He gestured to the tip of his tail. He then pointed to a blonde woman fading into the distance. On the tip of one of the ‘fingers’ was a ring—with a diamond.
Logan, while he looked like someone who might not draw connections quickly, took little time. He held his breath as he pulled the ring from the finger. He made a sweeping gesture with one hand. His mercurial eyes narrowed slightly as he gave an order. “Move. Let’s go give it back. It's probably important--a heirloom or something..” The navy-haired man, left hand in the pocket and right clutched around the ring, set off after the little blonde woman. He did not speak as he drew around to circle her—like some sort of lion. He thrust his palm into her face, just beneath her nose. “Here.”
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Post by Adrianna Lukhurst on Nov 1, 2013 19:42:54 GMT -5
A quiet yawn escaped her lips, though she tried to mask it with her left hand. It wasn’t actually all that late, no, far from that. But it had been a rather eventful day, even if it had not been a most interesting one. Ever since she had started working on that place, she had problems getting into a daily routine. Less because there were so many different things going on, but moreso because she did not have her own specified workload. She’d basically been a friendly – yeah, emphasize on always being friendly, just as that nice woman at the orientation had taught her – helper to every other person in the office. That meant there were days with little to no work, leading into others where everyone and their mother needed something done. Just a small favor, of course, one she could just do quickly, right? Adria sighed. Working like that was taxing. It made her feel valuable, helping many different people, yes, but it was definitely taxing. Thus, even a day of boring work in the office left her with that great feeling of accomplishment one could only get when actually tired. Also, she had been able to finally change out of her work attire and into a much more comfortable skirt-shirt combination with coat, which was always appreciated. For the moment, she was allowing her dear Nana to roam freely a bit, after being perched in that ball all day. She’d heard that the latter wasn’t all that bad for pokemon per se, but she just couldn’t imagine it being nice either. Besides, according to the pokemon in question, she did like getting a fly every now and then a lot, so no harm done. The black bird knew the dos and don’ts around town, and usually found back to Adria easily enough for it to not be any bother at all. Sometimes she even brough money that people had lost in wells or something like that, but that was always just nice coincidence. Nothing she would count on or need. In fact, what she needed right now was to get home, eat a bit and have a nice relaxing bath. Also, bears. Wait, what? Adria blinked, temporarily halted and startled by the sudden appearance of a bear. It wasn’t a bear of course, but as she made that small step backwards and blinked heavily, she first thought he was one. Thus she yelled out quickly: “I don’t have any food for you!”
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Post by Logan Hyde Garrison on Nov 5, 2013 4:02:06 GMT -5
If she was at all skittish, or faint of heart, the sight in front of her might have been frightening. The Aipom had bounded ahead of his ‘trainer’ when they approached the blonde. The little monkey though, unlike the blue-haired man, had stopped just behind her. His hand, bouncing beneath him, trembled with excitement. Mickey felt like a million-dollars. He had just helped this blonde lady! He smiled; the two largest teeth in his mouth, at the front, hung slightly over his lips. With the wind blowing toward the large man who accompanied him, Logan was not thankful for the monkey’s shift in position. He began to sniffle.
What Logan did not realize, as he thrust a hand coated in ink, was the fact that Adriana appeared to be cornered. The Aipom blocked her in from behind. Sometimes, being a bit oblivious., the man came across as a monster. It didn’t help that the stains on both of them, being a dark and coppery brown, resembled blood. The paint color looked a lot scarier out of the old paint-can. The silver eyes, flat and a bit hard to read, did not smile. He looked bored and a bit irritated. His nostrils constantly wrinkled; his attempts not to sneeze. Logan doubted this blonde girl wanted to be covered in snot. From what of it dripped on his lips, from his allergies, it would not be a pleasant sensation. As a result, face rippling wildly, he looked as if he was snarling. He looked rather comical to be honest, the dark made that less obvious; a few times, mouth stretching upward, he wore a ridiculous grin. It likely did nothing to help her impression of a giant, blue-haired, bear.
The ring still hung from two fingers.
The lights of the street, freshly replaced, turned it into a little light in the darkness. Light gleamed off of a name engraved on its silvery rim. If Logan had bent to read it, impossible without his specialized glasses, he would have realized something: this girl was likely not named Harold. The ring was not hers—it had just been left in a position that implied such. Logan, being a straight-forward guy, just assumed the ring was the property of the nearest bystander. The Aipom had no interest in reading squiggly symbols.
When she spoke, talking of food, Logan frowned. It was at that moment, held back by other odd expressions, that his sneeze decided to erupt. He staggered back. One large hand, flashing ink on all of his knuckles, rose to his nose. The other one was still a few inches from Adrianna’s with the ring hovering in front of her. He blinked and took a deep breath. He swallowed. Finally, blinking rapidly, he spoke. His voice sounded bewildered (which was a rare occurrence): “I don’t want any. I already ate.” Why would she offer him any? Silver eyes dropped to his own torso. He obviously, judging by his size alone, really didn’t need anything else. The monkey, behind them, found the girl funny. He was now nearly against her back. His laughter was loud. Logan put forth the ring again: “Here. It’s yours.” The girl would end up with the little silver ring up her nostrils soon. Logan couldn’t put his fingers much closer without that happening.
“Heheheeh!” The monkey, still amused by the girl’s panic, began to laugh even louder. “Shut up, Hick.” It was a flat command. He was merely exasperated; the allergies did little to endear him to some purple glove’s mockery.
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Post by Adrianna Lukhurst on Nov 19, 2013 19:17:08 GMT -5
Just…just what? This situation did not make any sense to her. None at all. Adria was startled, yes, but right then, that only made up part of her confusion. Much more importantly, she was trying to make any kind of sense of this, to no avail at all. This person was a person, yes. A person, not a bear, but that did not exactly make her feel any safe. Not even when she just kind of felt someone behind her and, after shooting it a glance, realized it was a pokemon. That reminded her uncomfortably of that course she had taken when she joined Pravus, the self-defense thingy. There were people, who for some reason, did not like the company at all and would sometimes ambush their employees. But this couldn’t be the case here, right? He wasn’t spouting stuff like ‘vive le revolution’ or so, after all. So then, what was he? He did not want any food, that she knew. Sadly, that meant he would not just leave without well, whatever it was he wanted. But when he talked, she noticed something else about the manbear. A detail a lesser detective would have missed…although it would have to be a really bad detective, for he was pretty much shoving it into her face, A ring. A golden ring. He offered her that ring. A big, bear like man, talking in short, easy sentences. Offering her a ring without any sense of privacy or the like. That….promoted him from bear-man to cave man. And resulted in two reactions. Well, actually three, but the fervid blush he caused by that was something even she did not register. Besides, her loudly proclaiming “Sorry, I just don’t swing that way!”, was way harder not to notice. Just like her standard defensive maneuver number 004, the one she executed when driven into a corner and suddenly very conscious of someone’s gender. It usually included making copious use and abuse of said gender and a kick with all the power she could muster. That usually opened up some window of opportunity to escape, unless steel underwear was in play.
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Post by Logan Hyde Garrison on Nov 28, 2013 3:23:14 GMT -5
The woman is insane. The term came across as neutral in his head. It held the same emotion behind it as calling someone ‘short’ or ‘tall’. Nuttier-than-a-fruitcake, or not, Logan was a patient person; he had raised two sisters, taken care of a mother with dementia, and learned to maintain a group of Pokemon. A cute girl spouting off about bears was far from the most difficult thing he had dealt with in his short-life. Silver eyes just continued to stare down at the blonde girl. The ring twisted in between his fingertips as he dangled it above the girl’s hand. His lips slowly pushed themselves into a disapproving frown. His nose was dripping with snot; the Aipom had drawn even closer when Adriana revealed her inner issues.
The monkey grinned as the woman turned to face him. One violet arm offered up a vigorous wave. Bouncing upon his tail, his kind rarely sat still, the Aipom was constantly on the move. While he might have liked the way ‘viva le revolution’ sounded, the primate had no intention of overthrowing the government. Logan had left gaping holes in his education. Mickey likely had no idea that Pravus happened to exist. He couldn’t even sign his own name; it was not as if, like his friends, he didn’t have any thumbs laying around. Logan didn’t even know Pokemon needed the school.
:ogan disliked the blue-and-white bastards. While neutral, he had no intentions of joining any war, the navy-haired actuary was not a friend of the Pravus organization They had doubled the tax rates in the past two years. The Pokemorphs had just made it nearly impossible to sit in any establishment without a headache. He had resigned himself to a life spent with take-out. This girl was in no danger from his passive-aggressive anti-Pravus behavior. He had no idea that she belonged to the group; last time he checked, with their triplicate application forms, people who were completely deranged were quickly weeded out of the ranks. The human resource department seemed to be incompetent—the girl lost it the second jewelry was shoved in her face. He felt bad for whatever idiot tried to marry the lady. Logan would just drop the ring off at the nearest police precinct; Adriana could stumble upon it when her warden let her loose again.
Swing what way? Silver eyes finally betrayed a genuine sense of befuddlement. The shouting drew eyes up and down the street. Lips curled upward in a facsimile of a question mark. Dark eyebrows disappeared into a grey-dotted hairline as the young woman turned a shade of rose. What was her problem? Was she deaf and trying to badly read his lips? “What are you talking abou--?” Logan grunted. The kick connected into a sensitive area. His face crumpled in pain as he staggered backwards protecting himself. Luckily for him, due to how he had been standing, the foot narrowly missed his family’s jewels. The result was still pain. The little firecracker packed a lot of kick in her feet.
The golden ring flew into the night sky. Its golden edges gleamed within the street lamp’s embrace as it spiraled toward the ground. Logan swallowed and slowly straightened. His hands tightened into fists. His voice, a bit shaky, sounded about the same as earlier. He moved to grab the young woman. Craggy features became more pronounced with a deeper frown. “What was that for?” One large hand lowered itself to shield him from any other opportune strikes. “Ai! Aipom! Aip! Pom!” The tiny Aipom, bearing his teeth in anger, jabbed an accusing finger at Adraiana.
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Post by Adrianna Lukhurst on Dec 22, 2013 12:36:20 GMT -5
Good, good, that hit him well enough. Adrianna would have been lying to say those results were not, at least in part, satisfactory. After all, this man had harassed her and proposed to her, a little pain was just the right medicine to cool off his head. She was so focused on him and his reaction that she did not immediately continue with her plan, yet, at the same time, she also did not notice something else – namely what her own Pokemon was doing.
The golden ring was tossed up into the air, after all, and the Murkrow saw it reflecting the dim evening light just enough to find it. Nana had been looked for the shiny she lost earlier, after all, and thus she immediately darted towards it, plucking the ring from the air in one quick move. Cawing loudly, she flew back up in the air again, circling the two humans on the ground. The Pokemon was quite happy to stay out of this conflict for now, but it very clearly directed at least some caws towards the increasingly angry Aiporn.
Adriana knew what that meant and straightened up a little, as someone actually had her back there. It was not like she attacked this man any further, of course, but she was still wary. Actually, she did not really know just why she was not yet running. After all, she really should have, but not having been in such a situation before, she simply did not know if it would be a good thing. She was really nervous, but also determined to not let that show, especially since her opponent was not exactly down for good just yet. She wanted to be ready for his counter, prepared for whatever came, but…
Well, trying to block his hand with her own fist was kind of useless, seeing that he was off to grab her. So, she kind of just gave him her hand to hold onto, not exactly the smartest move. “Let me go, you gruff bear. I don’t want to marry you!”
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Post by Logan Hyde Garrison on Dec 26, 2013 3:35:07 GMT -5
The man was in pain. He looked a bit like a bewildered bear, with navy blue fur, as he reeled and clutched at the afflicted area. Some of the show, which consisted of him massaging his aching thigh, came from a close-call. He had been hit in that particular area before; the wind felt as if it had been crushed from his lungs while Logan’s skull had screeched pain signals. He could have heard air whistle by as that foot slammed in an inch or two to the left of its intended target—at least he already had a brat or two. When he spoke, a bit pained, he managed to hold his composure. While his fists were curled at his side, and might have been thrown if he had faced a man, Logan restrained himself—and hopefully the loose cannon.
While he knew women could take care of themselves, and show vicious tendencies like this blonde, Logan stopped himself from reacting violently. Besides, as the pain had ebbed, it no longer seemed like such a big deal; the ring, likely an important family heirloom, had gone missing. Silver eyes lifted to look around in a languid manner. Idiots sometimes found him frightening—just because he walked down the street. Looking up, being gifted with a loose feather, the dark-haired man began to sneeze.
Feathers gave him far worse results than fur or scales. Pokemon were so annoying. His body shook as sneeze after sneeze was covered up by his thick and ink-covered hands. As he found it impossible to keep his eyes open, without using a pair of tweezers, Logan did not notice the golden band glinting inches above his head. He heard the rustle of blacker than pitch feathers. He heard the angry clatter as the thing gloated over its mistress’ attack. No doubt, to give a wonderful ending to his short jaunt, it would pluck out one mercury eye. One large palm waved loosely in the air above; he hoped to fend off the stupid feather-bag.
The Aipom did notice the opportunistic theft. He had rushed forward to defend the big-grump; he had stopped that pursuit to watch the Murkrow take her prize into the open air. (“Thief! Give that back! I’ll hit you—dumb bird! Caw!”), the young Pokemon shook tiny fist at its elder. Logan, assuming the monkey was just making a racket, just groaned In frustration.
He wrapped his fingers, just two, feather-like around his wrist. Snot gathered on the back of his hand. White crust, dried already in the slight heat, clung to his goatee and outside of his nostrils. Pulled back at an odd angle, out of reach of shorter legs, he was nearly bent double to put himself on her level. When she asked him to let go, spouting some bullshit, Logan just frowned.
The grasping hands, reaching out to gently grasp a wrist or shoulder, dropped to his sides with the most quiet of huffs. He laughed. “I don’t want to marry you either.” He sniffled. “ I’m not into that shit—pain.” Pausing, pointing to where the ring had once been, he tried one more time. “I was just trying, idiot, to give the ring you dropped back.” Now that he had held those tiny hands though, dwarfed by his own, Logan had come to another realization. It was not overly startling when he considered her bewildered and violent reaction; it was a possibility that the jewelry belonged to someone else on the block.
The ring was too big for the dumbass girl . Regardless, as some people liked baggy pants, he decided to try again. There was no one else around. “I dropped it.”
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