Soren Ferngully
----- ♦ Male | 12 | Courrierway, Kalos
----- ♦ Cute x Tough // Beauty x Clever
----- ♦ Male | 12 | Courrierway, Kalos
----- ♦ Cute x Tough // Beauty x Clever
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III. An Appeal To The Herd
Having been dismissed back behind the stage after the Primary's evaluation, Soren couldn't help be smile confidently at the glowing remarks he had received, especially from Dequan, who appeared now to have a cut of favor for Soren above the rest. With his cleanly sculpted Furfrou sashaying by his side, he kept his composure until everyone had entered the common dressing room, and everyone was accounted.
He took a seat in one of the plush sectional couches, sighing as if the first round was an ordeal that was finally over. He let his usually upright posture slouch a little as he leaned back in his seat, Fifi taking up residence right beside his feet, her fan-like tail wagging as if gracing a noble with a breeze. He saw another contestant with a hardly-veiled expression of ire tautly trot by the group, the Chatot on his shoulder looking unnerved as the two of them took to a private dressing booth in the back. Soren recognized him as one of the couple contestants who received an abysmal reaction from the judges, and he couldn't help but feel rather split about it. On one hand, that only meant less competition for he and his Pokemon, as he figured the green-haired boy was clearly unpolished and would be a striking contrast to Soren's style. On the other hand, his childish sympathy was showing--he would have hated to be in that guy's position right then.
His spine immediately straightened when Juan reappeared not long after everyone had finally filed in. The host pointed out their short amount of time to rest before the first person was sent out to stage for the first Appeal, and motioned to a list that was posted on the wall. Soren looked over and squinted, identifying his name was at least not the first two. This gave him some time to observe the other acts, pick apart the judge's criticisms, and apply them to his own routine.
Someone by the name of Corrine Corduroy was first. She did not waste time making herself particularly known, much to Soren's chagrin. He felt like he could do without her condescending attitude as she departed and further made jabs in her public address. He secretly wished she would trip on her clunky shoes on stage, or that her Wigglytuff rolled itself nauseous.
"I wish everyone good luck," he said aloud, looking around the room at the others with a small smile. "Even her." It was an attempt to be relevant, to establish himself as a competitor with good sportsmanship, someone free of vice and to remove himself as a potential target. He wanted to appear as friendly, and the stark contrast was at what better timing than with Coco's haughty pride, and the muffled shouting that uncomfortably made itself heard through the door of the one other occupied private room. Fifi did not share her master's intent though, and only turned up her nose as she kept her eyes on the screen.
Soren, too, turned his attention there. The performance, he watched, was short and unimpressive, he felt. There was not much he could learn from a rolling, puffing pink balloon, but his trained eyes did catch the Wigglytuff unfurling just enough to snatch at some fireworks Coco appeared to have dumped behind her in her crouch--a most unflattering pose to do so in. Soren couldn't help but giggle, and tried to hide it with a hand.
That's something I wouldn't ever do, he thought to himself. Not like that at all!
Soren was about to ask his interesting company what they thought of the performance, when it seemed that no time was wasted jumping into critique. The criticisms were mostly the same: too much rolling and a poor execution of discretness. Soren would be sure to play to both of Fifi's category strengths and to be sleight in hand when it was his turn.
On Carlos' optimally sour note and the booing applause of a divided audience, Coco returned to the den with the rest of the group. Soren, finding this to be ideal circumstances, uttered, "Sorry that your act didn't go over as well. What did you learn from it?"
He took a seat in one of the plush sectional couches, sighing as if the first round was an ordeal that was finally over. He let his usually upright posture slouch a little as he leaned back in his seat, Fifi taking up residence right beside his feet, her fan-like tail wagging as if gracing a noble with a breeze. He saw another contestant with a hardly-veiled expression of ire tautly trot by the group, the Chatot on his shoulder looking unnerved as the two of them took to a private dressing booth in the back. Soren recognized him as one of the couple contestants who received an abysmal reaction from the judges, and he couldn't help but feel rather split about it. On one hand, that only meant less competition for he and his Pokemon, as he figured the green-haired boy was clearly unpolished and would be a striking contrast to Soren's style. On the other hand, his childish sympathy was showing--he would have hated to be in that guy's position right then.
His spine immediately straightened when Juan reappeared not long after everyone had finally filed in. The host pointed out their short amount of time to rest before the first person was sent out to stage for the first Appeal, and motioned to a list that was posted on the wall. Soren looked over and squinted, identifying his name was at least not the first two. This gave him some time to observe the other acts, pick apart the judge's criticisms, and apply them to his own routine.
Someone by the name of Corrine Corduroy was first. She did not waste time making herself particularly known, much to Soren's chagrin. He felt like he could do without her condescending attitude as she departed and further made jabs in her public address. He secretly wished she would trip on her clunky shoes on stage, or that her Wigglytuff rolled itself nauseous.
"I wish everyone good luck," he said aloud, looking around the room at the others with a small smile. "Even her." It was an attempt to be relevant, to establish himself as a competitor with good sportsmanship, someone free of vice and to remove himself as a potential target. He wanted to appear as friendly, and the stark contrast was at what better timing than with Coco's haughty pride, and the muffled shouting that uncomfortably made itself heard through the door of the one other occupied private room. Fifi did not share her master's intent though, and only turned up her nose as she kept her eyes on the screen.
Soren, too, turned his attention there. The performance, he watched, was short and unimpressive, he felt. There was not much he could learn from a rolling, puffing pink balloon, but his trained eyes did catch the Wigglytuff unfurling just enough to snatch at some fireworks Coco appeared to have dumped behind her in her crouch--a most unflattering pose to do so in. Soren couldn't help but giggle, and tried to hide it with a hand.
That's something I wouldn't ever do, he thought to himself. Not like that at all!
Soren was about to ask his interesting company what they thought of the performance, when it seemed that no time was wasted jumping into critique. The criticisms were mostly the same: too much rolling and a poor execution of discretness. Soren would be sure to play to both of Fifi's category strengths and to be sleight in hand when it was his turn.
On Carlos' optimally sour note and the booing applause of a divided audience, Coco returned to the den with the rest of the group. Soren, finding this to be ideal circumstances, uttered, "Sorry that your act didn't go over as well. What did you learn from it?"
---[ Event Log ]
----- ♦ Soren and Fifi received 12 Primary points!
----- ♦ Soren and Fifi watched Corrine's first Appeal, backstage!
----- ♦ Soren asked Corrine what she learned from her Appeal!
----- ♦ Soren and Fifi watched Corrine's first Appeal, backstage!
----- ♦ Soren asked Corrine what she learned from her Appeal!
