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Old August 15th, 2012 (3:14 PM). Edited August 17th, 2012 by Grif of Hearts.
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Grif of Hearts Grif of Hearts is offline
Que sera sera~
    Join Date: Jul 2011
    Location: System 32
    Nature: Naive
    Posts: 311
    Because Skymin told me to. :3
    The roleplaying sample will be up as soon as possible. I just have a habit of posting half finished character sheets so they can be checked before I carry on, I suppose.

    The misguided adventures of Martha Elson

    Martha is a woman with a certain elegance behind her stance and form. With a frame standing at nearly six and a half feet tall with little more than a few slender curves to mark her figure, she is a particularly odd looking human being. Only a little muscle tone hangs from her bones, although Martha is anything but frail as her appearance may imply. In her early forties, the years are starting to take hold of the woman and her darkened brown skin has become marked with several young wrinkles, many of which are quite recently formed. She has managed to age particularly well in her years however, and looks several years younger than she actually is.

    Her face is composed of various features one might liken to a bird Pokémon, such as a small but pointed nose and two beady eyes, each crowned with a thin black eyelash. Thin lips cross Martha's mouth which are often pursed together, and thick black hair falls from her head. It falls in small, natural curls and reaching down to her shoulder blades, although it falls further once straightened (which it rarely is. Martha prefers the her natural curls). Usually held back in a pony tail, Martha has occasions when she decides to let her hair free, which is primarily when she is sleeping or when she's simply not in the mood to bother with it.

    While the clothing that Martha wears is often a little more... 'regal' than her current attire, she has made an effort to wear something that is a little more practical and durable for the extent of her trip. Something told her that even low heels would not be suitable for this endeavour. Dark navy, almost black jeans cling tightly to her long legs, held up by a thin, black leather belt and a silver buckle, and end with a pair of simplistic walking boots that cover her feet, perfect for the long treks that she'll certainly have to endure across the island of Pandora. A pale grey tank top is worn across her torso, although with the shirt that she is wearing atop it the top is seldom seen. The button shirt is covered in a blue chequered pattern, ranging from pale shades to darkened tones, and the hem is tucked into the top of her jeans. It fits comfortably but not loosely. The majority of the buttons along each side are fastened, although the top two are not, showing collar of the top she wears beneath.

    While this outfit is her attempt at 'toughening up' her wardrobe whilst out on an amazing adventure, everything that Martha wears (including her hair) is remarkably well kept. How long that will last out in the jungles of Pandora is another question of course. A pair of thin reading glasses rest upon her nose with rectangular lenses, covering her small, chocolate covered eyes, the arms of which are a dull silver. The woman has made a habit of wearing these even when not necessary.

    The wind was sharp this evening as it often was, and sought to ruin what would have been an otherwise pleasant evening. The sun, setting against a backdrop of spiralling towers, painted some beautiful gold and orange tones against the skyline, but the chilled winds bit at exposed flesh and sent irritable tingles down spines. It ruined the picture.. Martha had never enjoyed the cold, and in her rush to flee from her home she had forgotten to slip on some slightly more practical clothes, or even pick up her coat or hat. The best she could do was tug her arms closer to her body and hope that it was enough to keep her from freezing. She didn't fancy looking like a Cryogonal for the rest of the evening. She had learned to love the busy styles of Celadon city, but she doubted that she would ever warm up to the cold weather.

    She would have returned if she were not on a tight schedule, and glancing at her watch she picked up the pace that she walked, taking far quicker strides than were comfortable and turning her rhythmic footwork into heavy and erratic thuds. She was already five minutes late for her meeting and not even close to the quaint little café she was headed, which was another good ten minute walk from the centre of town where she stood. It was rather unremarkable business, and was much like any of its kind. It usually had a few seats spare though and the tea was strong enough to Martha's liking, which had made it suitable enough for a meeting place for her and an acquaintance of hers who seemed to want to talk business. A Mr. Laughner his name was. He was a treasure hunter.

    The two individuals had met through friends several years ago. Nothing more than an introduction and a handshake, and they hadn't seen or talked since, but apparently it was enough to leave an impression on Laughner. Martha had certainly forgotten about him, and it took her a few moments to realised who she had been talking to. The hunter had made contact several days ago by phoning Martha. In the middle of the night, she might have added. It was talk of business rather than a social call, and so she decided to let it slide until he had told the entirety of his tall tale. Unfortunately, the details were brief, and instead Laughner wanted to arrange a date in which they could meet in person. With her need to sleep far outweighing natural scepticism, Martha had quickly agreed and gotten back into bed, hopeful that she wouldn't be disturbed again.

    And now Martha was worried that she'd be late for the meeting and never speak to Laughner again. She wouldn't even have known what he wanted to talk with her about which would really play or her mind. Her curiosity would not like that one bit. Spurred on by the idea, her strides grew in length, barrelling down the streets almost at a jogging pace. She had nearly walked straight out into the road in the process, her mind wandering too far to pay attention to where she was walking.

    Turning down an alleyway in an attempt to cut a few minutes off of the distance (and for a brief but pleasant break from the evening winds), she broke out into a small and relatively quiet street just turning off from the main road. The sign for the café glistened off on the far side of the road. A quick glance at her watch showed that she was only eleven minutes late and only freezing cold. All in all, it wasn't too bad. Laughner shouldn't have woken her up so late. This was his punishment. A thinly veiled smile crept upon her lips and she crossed the road, resting her hand against the door of the resturant and applying a little pressure to it.

    Her mobile phone shuddered into life, screaming its usual tune at her. The last thing that Martha wanted. She was already cold, scruffy and late. Strolling in on the phone would be just plain rude.

    Squinting at the screen, she pulled a pair of glasses that had been resting in her pocket out and flicked the arms out. She lifted them to her face, letting the frame rest on her nose. She had thought that she had read the name wrong, but even with her glasses it said the same thing. It was a Mr. Jude Laughner. The man that Martha was supposed to be meeting today. How odd.

    Martha pressed the green button and held the device to her ear. “Mr. Laughner? I'm just outside. I apolo-”

    “Don't apologise, miss Elson. It's nothing to be worried about” interrupted Laughner. He seemed cheerful but his tone suggested impatience, just as he had been several nights ago. “I'm quite glad you're late, actually. I can test you.”

    “Excuse me?”

    The man chuckled. “A test, of course! And it's ever so simple.”

    “What happened to business? I thought you wanted to talk to me about something?” Martha frowned, and while Laughner could not see it, her tone was an irritable once. She pushed forward into the café, letting out a gasp of relief as she entered. It was much warmer in here and she felt much better for it. The cold was really starting to get to here, and now that the sun had fully set and the sky had darkened she had nothing else to warm her joints.

    Laughner clearly heard the door close behind her and correctly assumed she had entered the café. “I left just a few moments before you arrived, actually. But find yourself a place to sit down anyway. It's cold outside and we wouldn't want you getting ill, would we?” He had a keen ear, clearly.

    Martha knew well enough that it was cold outside, but she held off any sarcastic comments about it. She would rather not risk the possibility that Laughner would respond with an equally sarcastic remark. “Are you just going to toy with me or are we going to sit down and have a serious discussion like adults? I'm not going to sit around and play games.”

    “Then sit,” he said. Martha wasn't sure if that was supposed to be a joke or a serious suggest. “But if you want to talk, miss Elson- Martha? May I call you Martha?”


    “Wonderful, Martha it is. If you want to talk, then you'll just have to find me.”

    Usually Martha would have been a little more patient with such childishness, but the rush she had been in only to be met with this had not put her in the best of moods. “I've told you, I'm not playing games today.”

    Laughner's cheerful tone faded as quickly as it had arrived. He had learned that his first approach had not working as well as he had hoped. “Miss Elson, this is certainly no game. I merely wish that you take this test to see if my guesses about you had been correct. If you pass then I will tell you my location and we can discuss this further.”

    “And if I fail your 'test'?” Martha asked, briefly lifting her head to seek out an empty chair in the establishment.

    It wasn't too difficult, with several seats open for the taking. She began to weave through the array of tables and chairs, pushing a few out of her way as she settled herself down on the far side of the seating area. Martha sat herself down comfortably, resting both elbows on the surface of the table. One pressed the phone against her ear while the other began to fiddle with a lock of hair that had fallen from the confines of her hair band. Her fingers were tangled in a second. Martha felt like she was being attacked by a Tangela, and with the Celadon gym only a short walk away that didn't sound entirely impossible.

    “Then you'll never find out.”

    “What's this 'test' then? Will I have to run through hoops for you or can I stay sat down?

    Martha heard a chuckle. “You may sit. They're only questions after all. I've heard that you're an intelligent woman, Martha. Hopefully one who's done her homework, because I wouldn't want someone who knows nothing of my offer, of course. So, here we go, miss Martha. What do you know of me? Jude Laughner.”

    What a vain sounding question, she thought. A question all about him. Of course, Martha was not completely in the dark when it came to the man that was Jude Laughner. The morning after he had rung her she had spent some time reading up on the man, believing that a little knowledge of him would help settle her curiosities. Her notes on him were fresh but hopefully adequete. “Bits and pieces. You're a treasure hunter for one thing, and a very rich one at that,” she said. Laughner's money seemed to only be funnelled into treasure hunting schemes to get more money. “And considering your popularity in the hunting community you're quite a skilled one. That remains to be seen, however. I don't know much about your personal life, but I didn't suppose you'd have expected me to learn about it. I thought we were here for a business venture. ”

    “This is a business venture, Martha. But very good, I suppose. I was expecting something a bit more flattering, but I suppose that'll do for now. And I suppose you've seen the news too, correct. What do you think could have interested me recently?”

    This question was a little more difficult to decipher. Her immediate thoughts flew to ideas of adventure and wealth. Some new way that the man could double his wealth in a few days. The rich always seemed to be looking for ways to become more rich. But was that what he really meant? Martha could imagine this to be a trick, and that the answer had nothing to do with it. The story of a Skitty rescued from a tree, possibly. Trivial but adorable. The woman giggled under her breath at the thought. What did he mean, she wondered? Then the idea hit her like a lamppost. At least, she hoped it had. It was plastered all over the news. A fairy tale come to life, promising adventure, excitement and (most importantly) the treasure of an entire kingdom. Martha had hardly believed the idea when she had first heard it, having been told the tale of it when she was a child and not once since. Four kingdoms, torn to the ground because of their own peaceful lifestyle, leaving behind one great treasure in their wake. She doubted it could be anything else.

    “Pandora, maybe? Yes, I heard about its discovery. Even I was amazed to learn that it exists, and I'm not much of a treasure hunter such as yourself. And why wouldn't you be interested in the idea? Think of all the amazing discoveries a trip there would yield, but I suppose that you're more interested in the idea of a spot of grave robbing and treasure snatching. I remember being told stories as a child.”

    “Correct once again, miss Martha. These questions haven't been difficult, but I'm glad you know a little about me and my work. My future goals as well. If you hadn't been able to answer them then I really would have been barking up the wrong tree. This also means you can guess what I want to ask of you.”

    Martha hesitated, and she was sure that Laughner had noticed. He cleared his throat, encouraging a response from the woman in the café. He wanted her to do something involved with Pandora? Was he desperate or just plain stupid? Martha couldn't think of a thing that didn't involve actually going to the isle of Pandora itself, and that was a ridiculous idea. Her going to Pandora? What for? Martha wouldn't last five minutes as a treasure hunter. She had never even trained a Pokémon before. “At the risk of sounding like a Chatot and repeating what I've said, excuse me! I don't know what you've got planned, but I'm already thinking it's a bad idea.”

    “Martha, the discovery of Pandora gave me a fabulous idea. I've talked to a dozen other souls about Pandora and managed to convince them to travel there. With mixed results, sure, but I've gathered together a particularly capable crew. I've asked them to search across the isle of Pandora to look for that famous treasure. The very same one in the story. I fund their trip to the island, which is particularly expensive by the way, and they look for the treasure for me. Whoever brings it back to me gets half of the share. Simple really. I think that you'd make a pleasant addition to the list of peo-”

    “Don't finish that sentence, Laughner...” she almost yelled down the phone, stopping him in his tracks. “I want to meet in person and have a proper discussion about this. Here, the same time tomorrow, and none of your silly games. I want to talk to you and not a phone for once.”

    “How would you like to go to Pandora?”
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