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Post by Forrest Edwin Antias-Robertson on Dec 31, 2013 5:03:18 GMT -5
He was so excited! Some might find it a bit strange. It was not his child, Emery would likely have been angry if it were, but it was a baby. Living on a college campus, surrounded by many dutiful students, it was quite rare to see such a rarity. Pokemon children, born from eggs, evoked a different feeling. It was not the one that made taupe eyes shine, eyebrows shift in strange expressions, and the normally warm heart burn like hell-fire. He could not resist biology’s drive after all—that and those adorable little eyes.
Forrest had always adored children, the idea of raising them, and speaking with the adorable little tykes. His husband, like a recalcitrant horse, remained reluctant to drink from the well of fatherhood. Forrest knew, just as he had convinced the man to enjoy strawberries, that he would eventually coax out his paternal nature. In truth, while he rarely admitted it, the brown-haired man had some mule-like tendencies. This, the issue of a family, was one of the couple’s biggest battles. It was unlikely to be solved quickly.
At the moment though, racing to catch the nearest bus, all thoughts of that were forgotten. How many times this month had he been late? It may have required an extra finger or two to keep track. It was just part of who he happened to be—minutes and hours were overshadowed by other matters.
While he had gotten up early, getting dressed in his usual efficient manner, the former thespian had lost track of time. It was rather ironic when one considered his main means of communication: a phone with an extremely apparent clock. Then again, when it came to matters of emotion, Forrest put them before the most vital of appointments. A crying student had came to him with fear, trepidation, and a heavy heart. Seeing as her he passed, the plaid pattern on his sweater contorting oddly around his spikes, the Pokemorph moved to follow the terrified girl. He had provided a kind and empathetic ear. Forrest had given her money for lunch and a gentle hug—at the price of his own meal.
Forty minutes had passed.
What he needed now, robbed of his stately walk, was a quick way across town. Glancing down at the clock upon his phone, glowing a taunting white, he ran toward the nearest bus station. He found himself, a bite like a fish, gasping for air as he raced by. The odd dance of his mandibles, which undulated, was hidden beneath a carefully arranged scarf. Quite a few encounters, where students approached with smiles, were met with nods and waves. But luckily, mayhap due to being shocked by the man racing after his vehicle, the bus driver opened the door. While some of the riders seemed a bit intimidating, especially to a man dressed like Forrest, he had little fear. People were people—his faith, even after his procedure, had yet to be the least bit shaken. By the time he left the bus, passing his phone to people around him, the taupe-haired fellow had made two or three new acquaintances.
The door opened. The stop was called. Forrest assisted an old woman from the bus; he followed shortly after her with his laptop bag across his left shoulder. Looking briefly around, in the less than affluent area, he finally just decided to turn right. He figured he knew the area well enough to go without GPS. He sent messages to her phone. her phone as the walking light began to flash a dangerous orange.
The self-declared mute had a flair for the dramatic. ”I will be there in fifteen minutes, Abigail! Time flies sometimes—other times it falls into a fiery pit akin to Dante’s Inferno. Climbing out of the latter nearly made me late” The letters flew across the screen. He nearly stepped into a traffic-filled street.
Finally, about ten minutes late, he arrived outside the children’s store. A happy Girafirig, clad in a diaper, served as its mascot. Pulling at his scarf, it had slipped a bit in his hurry, the Pokemorph moved toward the front door. Finally, seeing his friend, he gave a wave. Zooming in on his phone, jabbing buttons as people flowed around, he gave a quick greeting.
”Hello my dear ! Let us go buy silly clothes, shall we?” Straightening his sweater, chitin-covered fingers clicking against tiny black buttons, he moved toward the elementary school teacher. Only his forehead, crinkled, gave away his smile.
But when children were involved, those that were happy and safe, the Professor rarely displayed any other emotions.
He had lost the forty minute cushion he had given himself for such incidents. It was not as if, in this college area, he could meet his dearest friend nearby. He had no fear of the seedier parts of town. His Pokemon were close at hand and This was not the place, unless you wished for your child to be a college mascot, to buy children’s clothing.
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Abigail Steinman
NEUTRAL
a loving heart is the beginning of all knowledge
Posts: 52
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Post by Abigail Steinman on Jan 12, 2014 20:30:55 GMT -5
Being a mother had been one of the few things the kindergarten teacher had wanted in life but could never quite have. Her weak, frail body was capable of carrying a child, but there were far too many risks and there was only a slim chance she'd be able to carry it to term and even less of a chance for her to survive the pregnancy.
It had been a sad day for the woman to be told that she could never become a natural mother. And so the woman had returned to work the next day with a smaller smile and a heavier heart yet one of her newer students reminded her of another option. A little boy named Tommy would always talk about his foster parents as he had been a resident of the orphanage where her brother worked for a living. Many children had lost their parents during the war, a time Abigail was glad she had missed. Even now, there were infant children who had been abandoned by their parents due to pure laziness or ones who choose not to raise children as their entire conception had been an accident.
And so, the woman had scheduled a day to go to the orphanage to look at the children put up for adoption and had set her eyes on a infant baby girl with dark brown curly locks. She would never be a child of her own through a natural birth, but a child nevertheless. It was then that the woman stepped aside to inform one of the employees that she wished to adopt a child and pushed forth to fill out the papers necessary for an adoption. It had never occurred to her that she would be titled as a single mother for she had long since given up on finding that 'special someone'.
The kindergarten teacher arrived at the shopping center with her purse in tow, all ready to buy all the necessary frilly pink baby clothes that would be necessary for a new child, including all of the extra necessities such as bottles and baby bags, toys, all of those things.
Of course the woman would not be shopping alone, she had called upon the help of her dearest best friend, Forrest. She knew just how much the man loved babies and wanted one of them own. Heck, she'd enlist her friend as a legal guardian of her child if he'd allow her to do so.
By the time she had arrived at the baby store with the goofy mascot Girafarig on the front, she realized that Forrest had not yet arrived. A text message set her phone a buzzing and as she checked the message she realized she would have to wait a bit longer before the man would arrive on the scene. "Always a tad bit late Forrest." She smiled to herself, not minding in the slighest. Fingers tapped the lettered buttons upon the phone. "Okay I'll be here." Abigail then clicked send and waited for the man's arrival.
Nearly sixteen minutes later, the man walked up to the woman. "Hey Forry, let's begin. I'm so excited." She smiled as she pushed through the door to the store and began looking around. Slender, delicate fingers buttoned up her jacket as a cold wind from the resident air conditioner greeted her from the establishment. "Oh Forry where should we look next? I need to shop for so many things...let's go get the necessities first." She answered her own question as she grabbed hold of a basket and headed over to the aisle full of baby bags and bottles, even baby food. The woman picked out a large baby bag with multiple pockets colored in blue with nylon patch of a miltank holding a bottle sewed onto the front of the bag. Abigail soon tossed the bag into the basket along with three bottles and two soft blankets. "This is all so new to me, but I still feel pretty happy." She repeated herself with a nervous, yet excited smile. | TAGS: FORREST NOTES: SORRY FOR THE WAIT CREDIT: LAIKA OF GS! |
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Post by Forrest Edwin Antias-Robertson on Jan 19, 2014 5:42:11 GMT -5
Forrest dreamed of a future with children. The man adored the pitter-patter of little feet on hardwood; the sound of teenage and young adult shoes lacked the tunes of a lullaby. While the possibility of nieces and nephews soothed the pain, it did not quite calm the desire. He wanted children in the same way he wished to own a chocolate-strawberry factory; the children would be showered and spoiled with love and adoration. None of the young-people he visited at the orphanage seemed to have issues with his presence; Forrest received quite a few hugs. His husband remained opposed—for various reasons.
The Pinsir Pokemorph just laid it down to Emery being frightened. Children were likely a scary prospect when you dealt with the disobedient college students on a daily basis.
The taupe-haired man, for the moment, would spend time with Abigail. That beautiful child, with those bouncing dark curls, would make him giggle. In truth, taking some of his spending money, he had every intention of playing the part of god-father. Her brother, who likely would have loved the role, was temporarily forgotten. Forrest would buy the leftovers when the teacher fell low on funds; he doubted that her generosity and hard work resulted in a millionaire’s paycheck. What else was he going to spend the money on? Chocolate strawberries? He had gained a few pounds already. Lunches? He could practice some new recipes. Theatre props and classroom materials? It was far better to use imagination. Forrest had every intention of over-spending. What was wrong with having six adorable jumpers instead of three? Absolutely nothing.
Texting was second-nature to him. He did not need to look at the phone, or its keyboard, to do it properly. All he needed, especially when he was paying attention to other thoughts, was a quick proof read. Tiny little typos were removed with a brief proof-reading. “I hope so. I think I pulled something racing across town.” While the tone seemed serious, as he did not bother to insert his usual winking emoticon, the man was smiling from ear to ear. While a bit out of breath, and a lot out of shape, the Pinsir Pokemorph was happy. It wasn’t overly inconveniencing.
Feeling that pulling out his phone for such a simple text was useless, just three letters to confirm, Forrest merely nodded. The doors swept forward, eye-like sensor blinking green, as the pair appeared in front of it. Twice, as he had always enjoyed the feeling of magic, he waved at the silly thing. When he was done, feeling a bit childish, he moved after her. As he had no urge to speak, revealing his gravelly tones, the man just pointed to the first aisle—just in time for Abigail to move on. The bag would draw his gaze for a moment. ”Is that big enough?” Her phone would beep. Behind her, measuring the dimensions mentally, he frowned. Would that allow her to carry anything? The fabric did not look to be the best in the world. Would it fray and tear easily?
The bottles and blankets received no commentary. His brow just crinkled in an approving grin at each one. Reaching out, as if it was sleeping cat, he stroked the soft contours of each blanket. As they moved down the aisle, passing a variety of sleep-wear, he grabbed a few articles of clothing. Tossing them into the front of the buggy, where his dear friend would soon have a child, he moved on. The phone in Abigail’s pocket would soon buzz again. “Good.” There was a brief pause. “I would steal that adorable little cupcake if you weren't. “ A quiet noise emerged behind her . He had typed a little joke into his next statement. “ I’m a horrific burglar—as some roles suggest.” Pushing ahead, deciding to attempt to usurp control, the Pokemorph debated on the next turn.
He moved toward the baby furniture, toys, and car-seats. Gesturing with one chitin-covered hand, Forrest waited for his friend. The man was trembling with excitement. The idea of designing a child’s room appealed to his sensibilities; all of his zany tastes could shine through. He was a bit too excited for someone else’s child. “Car seat?” The question came as he moved toward the aforementioned objects.
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Abigail Steinman
NEUTRAL
a loving heart is the beginning of all knowledge
Posts: 52
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Post by Abigail Steinman on Jan 23, 2014 19:57:26 GMT -5
During the length of their friendship, Abigail had long since grown accustomed to Forrest's various ways of communicating. Of course, she did not have any prejudice towards Forrest's appearance she did not reprimand him for wishing to speak the way he did. The woman had her cell phone at the ready whenever a text message would set her phone on vibrate, an annoying sound that sounded like an old distressed Miltank in labor.
Now, Abigail had forgotten just how criticizing the man could be at times. Of course, the man probably would have never noticed it. With a check to her phone and a double check of the bag she had dumped into the basket, she glanced over towards the Pinsir morph. "Yes Forry, it's big enough. I'm adopting one baby, remember?" She smiled, showing that she meant no harm by her words. Although she had glanced at the larger, more elaborate bags that had multiple pockets and other unnecessary add-ons.
While those things were nice, Abigail's kindergarten teacher salary couldn't afford such a high priced item. Of course, she was stable enough to successfully care for herself and a child, but that did not mean she could splurge on things that could easily be replaced with something cheaper that could still get the job done.
She observed her friend as he dumped a variety of different baby clothes into the front end of the basket. Well, that saved her the trouble of trying to figure out what color to pick out for the new child. With a smile, the woman checked her phone for it had just buzzed again announcing that Forrest had something else to say. As brown eyes scanned over the words, she couldn't help but laugh a little. "There's no need to steal anyone's 'cupcake', Forry." She spoke as she looked at the different car seats that were placed on the top shelves neatly. "I may let you babysit sometimes. Not like I have anyone else to do it." The last comment wasn't said in a joking manner, more of a dejected tone. Had the woman ever mentioned Richard to her friend? Probably not. Ever since the man had skipped town without a word, Abigail had mostly been keeping that small bit of information to herself.
People usually never foresaw Abigail as the type of person to be date anyone for she was usually so focused on her work at the elementary school. Who would devote themselves to a busy bee? As she pushed the basket ahead of her she only just remembered that she had yet to decorate the baby's room. She had cleared out old junk, but the room was still unpainted and without any signs of furniture. "Yes, yes a car seat. Let's look at the furniture too Forrest, I need to find a crib." Abigail hoped that the morph didn't decide to try and throw in a crib made out of some rare metal into the basket and call it a day. | TAGS: FORRY NOTES: I'm sorry for the shortness :[ trying to get out all of my replies CREDIT: LAIKA OF GS! |
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Post by Forrest Edwin Antias-Robertson on Jan 27, 2014 4:25:00 GMT -5
The man had chosen to speak this way now. He despised the way his voice sounded—far worse than the throes of a dying telephone. Forrest heard the cajoling of angry alley cats, mixed with metal pipes, whenever his throat tried to make noise. It might make little cupcakes, like the one Abigail had just adopted, cry in terror. He did not like sounding like the monster. The man had once played the Beast—he truly never wanted to be one.
It had once been a necessity to communicate without words. In the earlier days it had been a nearly impossible task. Forrest was a man who spoke on an almost constant basis. It was rare that his mouth, whether to himself or some other person, was not wagging in some manner. He was a man of the theater. The Pinsir-Pokemorph was the professor who cracked jokes that made the whole class smile. He was easy to read. Students found it easy to chat with him. Then one day, waking up vocal cords twisted and distorted, that all changed. Forrest had his innovation and creativity to fall back on—a person with less of either quality might never have regained their ability to converse.
The only issue with talking through phones: a lack of eye contact and the odd pacing. Smiling, brow crinkling, he turned to his phone. Fingers, including the ones covered in an armor-like substance, flew across the keys on his phone. Finally, a minute or two later, he sent the response back. She really should just leave the thing out—he was still a chatterbox. ”You seem to forget what babies need—what if you go somewhere for a few days?”. Forrest had little need for diapers, bottles , and stuffed animals. His brief case, which was at home, was far larger than that baby’s bag. It was her choice though. The Pokemorph did not mind. ”Sure, they’re a little more expensive—but what's a little opulence? Your Forry god-father is right here..” He could still be rather witty; then again, as that was a bad pun, it lacked hilarity in text.
He went the full-spectrum of colors. It didn’t really matter to him whether it was ‘feminine’ or not. The better jacket was the one in the cart. The little outfits were mostly pastel though; it was a bit dreary to dress a child in dark colors. The laughter drew his taupe eyes backward. The scarf undulated with the slightest movement of his mandibles. ”Okay. I won’t steal the cupcake. I'll just go to the bakery.” In truth, never having seen the girl, he would have no idea which child it was. Tilting his head slightly, blinking, he began to poke at the car seats. His sharp nails tugged and stabbed at the plastic—it was not as if a car was made form soft foam. “ Hm.” That noise came from his mouth. Turning back to stare at Abigail, with a bewildered frown (indicated by lowered brows), he typed a quick question. ”Raphael?” The Pokemorph had little issue baby-sitting all the time.
He had no children of his own to watch. The college-aged crowd, while full of stupidity and people who seemed to be learning how to watch, required a lot less supervision.
Finally, staring at a mid-level model, he grabbed the box. One ivory claw drove through its middle. This allowed him to heft it into the waiting cart. He was already short-of-breath. The Pinsir Pokemorph was no longer known for his physical prowess. The labels had been read. This one would last the longest; it had the largest size variability. It had excellent safe-ratings. The colors would also disguise stains. Pointing towards the cribs, which were in the aisle immediately to the right, he moved on.
Would he get one made of rare metal? It depended on the special features. Children were worth every cent spent on them. Then again, raised in an affluent household, he had little idea of limits. His credit card debt still mysteriously disappeared on a constant basis—it was far too fast for his payments.”What about this one? It looks good with the paint you showed me. ” He tapped a black model behind him. It seemed padded. It was high on ratings. It was expensive.
Forrest was shopping for himself.
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Abigail Steinman
NEUTRAL
a loving heart is the beginning of all knowledge
Posts: 52
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Post by Abigail Steinman on Feb 2, 2014 12:06:39 GMT -5
She soon realized that she was was indeed forgetting quite a few things that babies needed. Should she have brought a list of everything wrote out in details with little boxes next to them that could be filled with a check mark? Frail hands gripped the bar on the basket for a moment as she thought to herself. "You're right. I need to have everything thought out in advance for any little incident that may come my way. At least I still have a few more months before the adoption comes around.." Maybe she should visit one of those parenting classes that they occasionally had for new parents or expecting parents.
Abigail didn't like asking others for money, or to buy things for her especially if those things happened to cost quite a bit. She lived off the pay of a kindegarten teacher which wouldn't be so bad if the rent in her apartment didn't cost so much and she wasn't feeding the mouths of five or six pokemon. She wasn't going to voice the thought in the back of her mind about having second thoughts about adoption. She didn't want Forry to work himself up into a frenzy for she knew how the man loved babies.
The woman watched as a man and woman entered the store with a baby strapped to the man's chest in a baby-baggie of sorts. Well, he had to get around some way right? Abigail was pulled from her thoughts when her phone buzzed, she may as well wear it around her neck for easier access. "I was going to meet with Raphael to talk about the adoption but he's been very busy so I'm still waiting." An uneasy laugh came from the woman. It had been a very long time since she had been able to spend time with her beloved brother. They were adults now, she understood that, but a little family every blue moon wouldn't hurt. She would never verbally complain, however.
As she watched the man deposit the car seat into the basket, she found herself following him to the cribs to where he picked out one of the most expensive ones that had the best reviews, and was apparently the most expensive one in the store. Abigail paused for a moment as she checked out one of the cribs on display. The price tag that hang by a thin plastic cord may have made the woman wince slightly. She couldn't afford this, she would have looked for a good crib that was at least half of that price if not lower.
It was then that it hit her.
She had not gotten the chance to pick out very many things for Forrest would quickly pick out something that he thought of as better, and nine times out of ten, more expensive. "Forrest? Are you shopping for yourself?" She asked, her voice calm but her tone seemed to resemble the way she would speak to a child who was doing something wrong.
Abigail hated how Forrest wasn't able to have a child of his own, but that didn't mean he could completely take over her role as a future mother. Brown eyes were watching the morph carefully yet curiously now. | TAGS: somebody NOTES: TELL ME THAT YOU LOVE ME MORE CREDIT: LAIKA OF GS! |
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Post by Forrest Edwin Antias-Robertson on Feb 6, 2014 6:36:19 GMT -5
Forrest actually had a standard baby shower registry on his phone. When he shopped, liking to consider it a sport, the taupe-haired man always had a plan of attack. It was gratifying, with list in hand, to check off each little box. Sometimes, if he was particularly excited, he might jog down an aisle to secure a certain prize. Between each text, having mastered his phone, the Pinsir Pokemorph returned to his little itinerary. Up and down. Up and down. His finger scrolled down the brightly-colored screen. “You should! It would make the process easier—no running to the store with a hungry baby.” His fingers returned to typing. He smiled. Those few months would just fly by. “It might not seem like enough time when you’re holding her. “ Forrest would make certain to help her in any way he could. He was just a good friend like that.
Not enough money? He would have asked for her budget; the finance and business department would never have heard the end of his bothers. While he understood her desire for a child, something that a person could nurture and raise, Forrest might have come back down to Earth. It was not proper to bring a child into a home without the funds to support it—if you did have a choice. He just assumed his friend would be fine; teachers were valuable pillars of the community—they had to make decent money. He had briefly been a teacher—then again, raised in modern nobility, funds would sometimes just appear in his account.
Forrest waited patiently for her to raise her cellphone again. It wasn’t his fault that he didn’t have telepathy! It was better than playing charades—he could not imagine being ‘mute’ without a phone or modern technology. Body language could only accomplish so much. Why did she keep putting it away? His voice-box, at the moment, happened to be that phone—it was hard to talk if she put it away. Forrest loved chatter; this disjointed series of texts had never been his most favored. “Did you get the baby from his area? It might have been a bit easier that way—“ Adoption was an oddly complicated process. There were criminals; the officials seemed to determined to keep out people who weren’t as well. “If he’s busy though, Abi, it means that children are being saved.” If he was not a professor, and would not make children cry, Forrest might have applied to be a child advocate. He could not anymore – one decision had ruined all that.
This thing would last for quite a while. It looked to be built sturdier than cheap particle board—Forrest had once slept in a similar bassinet. Stroking the bars, humming at it, and smiling nostalgically, the man turned towards the brown haired woman. A person didn’t need to see his mouth to realize he was hurt. Sniffling a bit, nose wrinkling, Forrest took a moment and then began typing. “I don’t think those clothes would fit me. : (“ He had no intention of shopping for himself. “We’re not shopping for you either; it’s for the baby. “ He paused for a moment and then resumed typing. “I’ll take care of it.” The wealthy man saw little reason to be stingy about a child’s first bed. “It’s free!” His eyes lifted in a smile.
Why couldn’t he help her and fulfill his own dream a little bit? What did it really matter? Didn’t the child deserve the very best? He might have sounded a bit sheepish if he could speak. His cheeks were a tad pink.
It complimented the baby’s bed nicely!
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Abigail Steinman
NEUTRAL
a loving heart is the beginning of all knowledge
Posts: 52
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Post by Abigail Steinman on Feb 19, 2014 14:43:26 GMT -5
AND I SAID HELLO, FORRY HER THOUGHTS WANDERED, as she looked at the objects that lined the inside of the wheeled basket. She counted in her head just how much everything would cost. And judging from how fast children grew, she would need to pay another visit to the store and buy even more things. She had a teacher's salary, yes but did kindergarten teachers really get paid that much? Enough to live comfortably with a baby as a single mother with five or six other hungry pokemon mouths to feed as well, not to mention the occasional veterinarian bill for them?
As the pair wandered over to the furniture for youngsters Abigail had a nagging doubt in her heart and mind. She couldn't take care of a child without making some sacrifices, such as getting rid of her Pokemon, Arceus knows what would happen to them. She'd have to move into a cheaper apartment, and everyone knew the 'cheaper' things in Nada Citadel were hideous, almost resembling hermit shacks in appearance.
The woman sighed and looked at her phone where the screen lit up with the long list of messages that had came from Forrest voicing his comments and opinions via text message. Adjusting her purse on her skinny shoulder she looked back to her friend. "Hey Forry, I have a confession." She started as grabbed one of the soft baby garments and ran her fingers along the soft fabric as if imagining a young child strapped into its soft hold.
Abigail then laid the onesie back down with the other items within the shopping cart. "I've had this nagging doubt ever since I walked into the store. I know that if you have even the slightest feeling of doubt about doing something major in your life, you probably shouldn't do it...I don't think I want to care for a child, let alone adopt one..it sounds very complicated and difficult to me.." She was so close to the very first step of having a child of her very own, (although not biologically), but she had faltered and stepped back from the starting line. The finish line hadn't even been within sight.
"Let's just put the stuff back on the shelves, we can't just leave a cart full of items in the middle of the store."
Abigail wasn't one to be a crybaby but she did blink away the watery feeling that covered her eyes. The woman grabbed the cart and went about the store replacing the clothes and baby bag back in their respective places in the store. She would leave the heavier boxed carseat for someone else to place back on the shelf.
The woman looked back for Forrest with an apologetic glance. "I'm sorry for dragging you way out here only for me to change my mind." She apologized as she looked at her phone, waiting for a response from her friend.
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Post by Forrest Edwin Antias-Robertson on Feb 24, 2014 6:09:38 GMT -5
Forrest likely , if he had been considering adoption, would have analyzed the finances of the first few years for the child. Feeling money may have been the main issue for Emery, even if it was not, he had drawn up a chart of expenses. They had more than enough fiscal resources to raise a little darling to adulthood! This had not convinced Emery either. In truth though, money was a rather vague concept. He could not remember a time it had truly been tight. His family was always able and willing, if it was required, to give out loans. While he comprehended being impoverished, it was not something he had personally experienced. It was some vague concept he fought every Saturday.
All of the items in this place, from bibs to walkers, made the tope-haired man even hungrier for a child of his own. Emery would likely regret this particular errand; Forrest would renew the argument they had constantly revisited over the past decades. Why could they not have a child? Chitin-covered fingers trailed across shelves and seats. The professor had no worries over his living space, Pokemon, or sacrifices. All of his dreams were nothing more than stubborn fancy.
The dark eyes blinked. One eyebrow rose upward. He truly hoped he had not offended the lovely young woman. Friends butted heads all of the time, that seemed a silly reason for a confession. Putting back his newest toy, an odd teething ring, the Pinsir Pokemorph nodded at his friend; it was a gesture for her to continue. “Go ahead, it’s alright, Abigail.” Buzzing like an irritable bee, the phone delivered this frantic encouragement. The scarf wrapped around his neck wrinkled to further communicate the gesture. The man was known for his ability to listen. He would not interrupt.
Behind the glasses, which he had on to better read the labels, his eyes widened with shock. Was she truly abandoning her dream in this moment? What could have motivated such a thing? The phone began to vibrate once again. The Pinsir Pokemorph had a gaze overflowing with compassion. “I am sorry.” The first one was an attempt to apologize for any lost dreams, shattered visions, or bruised feelings. The second message was fueled by feelings of guilt and responsibility. “Please, Abigail, ignore anything I said. If it is at all the cause.” Why else would she so suddenly change her mind? Stepping forward, seeing the tears, he wished to wrap his arms around her. Learning could be a bitter draft.
Takng the cutest outfit first, the one with some sort of baby Pokemon on its front, Forrest returned it to the shelf. “It’s alright.” It was better that he be disappointed for a few moments, or even hours than to subject a child to his indecision. It was a large decision. The Pinsir Pokemorph completely understood her trepidation. Pausing, as he gently stroked the clothing in his hand, he began to search. Where had he gotten all of these things? He honestly couldn’t remember.
Clink. The white hanger slid against the shelf with a sign of finality. He doubted any of this was is fault; sher had been jumpy since they entered. Heshould learn to keep his mouth closed in some situations—or his phone, at least. It was best, before he ran out the store with the cart and adoption papers, to distract himself. “Hungry? : (” The face was accompanied by a sad smile. It still was a saddening situation—even if food was involved.
The Pokemorph would never eat in front of Abigail. He just believed a full stomach might make her feel better. Making her vomit, as he turned into a wood chipper, would not. The former thespian just wished he could speak his words of comfort aloud.
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Abigail Steinman
NEUTRAL
a loving heart is the beginning of all knowledge
Posts: 52
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Post by Abigail Steinman on Feb 26, 2014 15:05:00 GMT -5
AND I SAID HELLO, Her dream had been only that, a dream. She had lost grip on reality when she had daydreamed fantasies of having a child of her very own. In truth she was not suited to be a mother, no she could not take care of a child on her own. If she had taken up that test, she would have ended up stress (which would have been bad for her health), and would be unable to see her child until late in the evening after she had finished up at work. As a result, she would have ended up being a horrible example for a mother.
The woman sniffed once or twice before taking a deep breath. There was no use feeling sorry for herself. As her phone vibrated in her hand she looked to see what her friend had to say on her sudden change of mind. "No, Forry there's no reason for you to be sorry and it's not because of what you said. If anything, what you said kind of reminded me that I'm not ready for this at all. I'm not..up to the job." Taking care of a child, a young one at that, was another full-time job within itself, and no one really got paid for it in the end. The only payment was the joy of your child growing up and becoming successful, that is if they chose to do anything with their lives.
After the basket was completely emptied the woman pushed it back to the front of the store. Just because she had changed her mind didn't mean she'd leave the store in disarray which would cause more work for the workers at the end of the day. The woman looked up at the Pinsir Pokemorph once she had reviewed his most recent message. Was she hungry? Usually, the woman was always eating when given the chance for her high metabolism gave her a few pluses when it came to eating, some women were even jealous of this fact.
But not even the promise of food or sweets could make the woman smile. "No." The woman frowned as she headed out of the store. Don't look back. Don't look back. Looking back at broken dreams would only make the dreamer linger in their grief. "I'm not hungry." She added as she had fully exited the door, looking out in the mall. "I..I'm just going to go home. I have to get ready for work tomorrow." She'd also have to do something about the room she had prepared for the baby, a baby that wasn't going to be coming to her home.
"Thanks a lot for today Forrest, I'm sorry for dragging you out here only for me to end up changing my mind."
She apologized, but it was clear that the woman's pride was still beaten from her sudden change in mind. Deep down she knew that if she had been in Forrest's shoes, she would have jumped at the chance to have a baby of her very own and would have never changed her mind at any point down the line.
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