[PKMN FULL] Cornered On The Market! [T](IC)

dud190 · Jun 14, 2016

Location: "Still flying pretty close to the ceiling."
Status: "I am currently very interested in hearing lots of things."
Additional Info: Stole coloring ideas from Collector Elwood.
Any OOC content in this top section will be posted without quotation marks from now on.[/COLOR]

Benicle the Ninjask

A scream blasted his eardrums as Benicle tried to make acquaintances with the Plump Mouse pokemon. It was like a scene in a cartoon: The pokemon made a loud sound, and proceded to run away(Though in cartoons they like to run in place for a few seconds before zipping out). Benicle covered his ears as he watched the Bidoof run, and run, and run until he reached... A Furret. Benicle watched in awe as the Bidoof seemed to sink into what seemed liked the comfort of the Furret. Did the two know each other? Are they related? These were questions that Benicle really wanted to ask, but sadly couldn't, as more conversation followed. Benicle watched and crept every so slightly and as silent as a winged bug could as he listened to what appeared to be a mix between a conversation and an argument between the Furret and the Bidoof who rudely ran away from him. Sooner or later, those exchange of words ended, but Benicle was starting to get intrigued by this Furret. His reactions towards his fellow co-worker were... interesting. He wanted to get to know more about this guy. So, Benicle gently scratched his head with his claw as he positioned himself higher up in the room to get a better view of everyone in the room, accidentally bumping his head on the ceiling. He lowered himself slightly and rubbed his head again, hoping to make it feel better. When Benicle finally focused his attention on the people again, Amaryllis was in the middle of talking.
For right now, I just want to lounge with my trustworthy hires! And you too, Banelicky." It really frustrated Benicle on the inside that Amaryllis kept mispronouncing his name, but he put that thought away as he focused on the conversation at hand. Amaryllis had just said something about asking twenty questions or something like that and a Parasect decided to speak.
"Are you a mineral?" the bug pokemon asked. Amaryllis responded with something like being a gem or something like that.
It got really interesting for Benicle, however, when the Furret decided to speak, talking about some Kazimir guy. Benicle was half-paying attention to the actual words spoken and instead paid more attention to the way he was speaking. Benicle didn't know how to describe it. It was like... He put effort into how he spoke. Benicle couldn't figure out if he really liked this guy or really hated this guy, as he seemed... Unpredictable to Benicle.
All of a sudden, Benicle was put on full alert as the word "Farlance" was uttered from the Furret's mouth. Giving up the "looking from a distance" escapade, he quickly zipped over right next to the Furret. He listened very closely as the Furret and Amaryllis talked about this Kazimir guy who traveled up to Farlance to do an art show and set a vineyard ablaze.
The fun in listening to his hometown was cut short, however, when the annoying Bidoof from before started annoying the Furret again, and the Furret had to stop his conversation with Amaryllis. He took this opportunity to intrude ever so slightly, and he flew up slightly and tapped the Furret with his claw on the Furret's neck.
"Hey you. When you have the opportunity, I'd love to discuss more about that town Farlance." Benicle said quietly to the Furret. He then turned and flew towards Amaryllis.
"Well, while I am over in this vicinity, you wouldn't mind if I asked you a question or two, would you?" Benicle asked. And instead of waiting for a response, Benicle simply proceeded to ask the question he had on his mind.
"You seem very happy in your job, and I am happy that you hired me. If you hadn't been here, maybe I wouldn't have gotten such a great job. My question is, what made you decide to start up this business? What influenced you to go into business?" Benicle asked.

Junier · Jun 14, 2016

'You would like to see it again, my application?'

Here's the deets:
⇠ ⑳ ⇢
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Location: Forget-Me-Not; the project area.
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Mentions:
Amaryllis and the whole gang.
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Held Item: N/A
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Status: Cursed! (+Atk, +Def, -Spd)
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⬈ Rina the Chimecho ~ Forget Me Not

as of 6:46 AM:

-------She was like a cloud, a collection of millions and trillions of raindrops—of little pieces—but no one ever saw a cloud as "water", no one ever counted the pieces. Rina didn't care about the thousands of nebulous, minute details; she wanted to see a puffed-up cotton ball in the sky, she wanted to be sub-consciously and mindlessly happy. After allowing vindictiveness to thoroughly swallow her mind, the Psychic was left at the expense of her own misunderstanding of how "Curse" worked, or at least was bound to work for her, but the result was a truly euphoric feeling, or multiple feelings. She was hopelessly lost in her own happiness that Rina forgot, or chose to forget, her recent vengeful attempt to Curse an entire estate of Pokemon in the first place. Ultimately, the Chimecho had been flung from one extreme to another in the course of five or so minutes and from the high would be a long ride down.

-------But currently, the two-pound living chime creature was dragging. She slunk across the floor like a sodden sheet-ghost. By the time Amaryllis had from afar addressed the new face of Forget-Me-Not—something Rina only halfway understood at the time—the Chimecho was but halfway between the restroom and the project area. Of course this did not appear to concern anyone, not even Rina herself as she began another song, clearly valuing her sweet time. It might have upset her in a normal state-of-mind but even her coworkers may have garnered the impression that, with an uncharacteristically genuine smile and golden gleam in her eye, nothing was bound to upset Rina. These sunny feelings were heavy, permeable, though the Chimecho felt like she were walking on air (naturally). Fully engaged in her own merriment, her pace was just comparable to meandering. At the very least, the direction in which she stared and her single, unbroken line of movement did imply a fixed objective.

-------She would eventually close in on the fringed edge of the throw rug, notice the distraught expression of chosen-one Spora and give a hearty laugh. The disconsolation conveyed through the Parasect's lifeless demeanor reminded her of a shed skin curling up in the sun and this on its own was amusing to Rina; there was no intentional vindictiveness behind her laughter. In fact, it came across rather disjointedly as more giggles came bubbling out of her, twinkling like sleigh bells and clear as day. She was finally, officially, in her project area with her coworkers around her and she, as usual, regarded them contemptuously. The particular mayhem between Samuel and Ch— the Furret exuded a sense of awkwardness that Rina thought was rather funny too. The oddly-titled Ninjask fellow on the outskirts of the cringe-causing interaction, for some reason, made it more hysterical. Even Amaryllis, with her thespian cries for understanding and unity, was unable to spark the typical exasperation from Cursed Rina. She responded to everyone equally: laughing, laughing, laughing…

-------"Eeh-hee-hee! Hee-hee-hee! Oh, oh, you are all so very funny! All the ways that you act, they are so comedian! Ohh, this a wonderful place full of wonderful and very funny Pokemon! I am ever very glad to be here working!" The Chimecho gave a twirl as she glided in-between the beanbags and gazing globes. Her voice blossomed over the others and she continued, booming, as if her glee had unknowingly struck her like a church bell: "But I would also like everyone here to know and to remember my project area that I worked very hard on very much and to not make it a mess while you are here talking! Do not disturb my lanterns that are on the ceiling also as well! That means you, Binacle, because you are one with wings!"

-------Instantaneously, she had decided to go on the defensive regarding her displays. Fortunately, it did not hinder her cheeriness: "I lo-ove Forget-Me-Nots!" The disconnected statement doubled as a song lyric as well. The most saccharine of Poke-Idol songs that Rina would otherwise be rather embarrassed in secretly liking was, of course, the first to come to mind in her current state. She hummed it audibly as her attention locked onto the cart loaded with food and she began eagerly sweeping towards it next. Miraculously, the trolley stood mainly untouched by the rest of the staff. Rina was certainly willing to take advantage of their un-hungriness, or at least their dawdling, and she (slowly) bee-lined towards the shortbread and muffins and sponge cake and eggs.

-------There were two other Pokemon with active appetites and they talked around her, voices bouncing off of one another's, over and over like a high-stakes pinball game where gossip was the ball. It all flew past Rina as she rounded the cart opposite from the sniggering Amaryllis as the second sustainer of their conversation began reciting some wild story. Truly, the idea of interaction enthralled her and her envy grew at the sounds of Florges' bright laughter; her temper flared and, as such, her early-morning hunger followed. She'd spent her earlier hours organizing her mysteriously-missing basket of knickknacks and had just barely fit in a slice of toast with jelly before she left the house. Now Rina was making up for that as she began snatching bounties away: a tail-ful of fresh, pink berries, four fat poffins, six shortbread crackers; her plate mimicked Mt. Pyre in seconds. The plethora betrayed her appetite, or even the amount of room in the Chimecho's stomach, but she didn't care. Rina was starving and slightly jealous and on a roll. Her sweet tooth had overthrown common sense.

-------Suddenly, she became rebellious, looking from her plate, slobbed with desert, to the envisions of her distraught Haunter father that appeared before her. She cackled maniacally. His white eyes boggled and those disembodied talon-like hands clawed desperately at the corporeal food he could not touch.

-------"Rina, darling…" Gasparre was bumbling meekly. "Rina, please. You know sweets aren't good for you. Why would you ever need so many? Berries are sweet enough, dear. And you know better about eggs, my love. Raw egg has never settled well with you, remember? How bad it itches your throat? Rina…!"

-------'Oh, well, this is not the house, is it, Father? This is the job that I have where I can do and eat what I want because it is my job and I am hungry!' She responded with sass, swinging herself side-to-side in some peculiar motion that might have resembled a rock of the hips. The words meant for her imagined Haunter father just partly escaped her lips: "Father… I can… My job… Hungry…"

-------Atop the peak of her sugary breakfast, she then defiantly planted two slices of soft-boiled Chansey eggs. In her own insubordinance she must have overlooked the reasons behind her father's concerns. Nonetheless, her palette was filled, but she then had to face the challenge of lifting the meal from the side of the trolley. It had been balanced there -- not so in her stumps-for-arms. Eventually with much tipping and uneasiness and a few Oran berries falling into the floor, Rina decided to be the eccentric of the group and took to eating where she was. Cursed Rina thought nothing of and, as if to subtly threaten anyone that might, she sent a challenging stare sweeping across the area.

-------Clearly, standing out was not a sincere concern of the Chimecho's as, mid-chew, she randomly received an impulse that she just-as-suddenly opted to act on. "20 Questions" was a game her good friend Desiree had pestered her with on their first encounter, though it was more like "100 Questions" for the ever-jovial Slurpuff. "I ask a question and then you answer 'yes' or 'no'..." Was it a good ice breaker? Truthfully, no, but Desiree was quirky like that. Rina thought she must feel just feel like her, weighted down with this abstract, cheerful feeling. It was that connection to the fairy that led her to considering the wishes of the other fairy all delayed so that she called out with pieces of pink poffin flying from her mouth: "Do you have many siblings?"

Jauntier · Jun 15, 2016

...
6 AM
7 AM
8 AM
...

Forget-Me-Not
7:16 AM | Main Floor

She took the natural lull in conversation with her pestered gossip mate to quench her thirst from those dry muffin sprinkles and her snickering at misfortunes. Glanced over at the trolley to see Rina, moving about at the pace of a Shuckle as she whispered a couple words to the air, her plastic-looking smile pointed from one unfocused eye to the other. The Chimecho was the familiar wailing from earlier on in the Florges' conversation, a boisterous noise in the background, but Amaryllis was too enthralled in her own chatting that she had tuned out all other distractions. The flower maiden picked up a napkin-bundled set of little utensils from the tray, undid the string around them to get to the napkin and dusted the crumbs from her lap onto the two-ply paper before folding it up. She reached down to pick up her saucer and teacup she had set on the floor before her, and then fancied fixing herself a cup of hot green tea with some Moomoo milk with a little honey, Standing from her seat, she did so with a growing smile on her face, as gradually every little thing she did brought her some sense of inexplicable delightful. Maybe it was the vivid and sweet scent of her hot tea mixing with a cool dab of milk, or--

Wet specks of something flew onto her cheek as Rina posed a question at her. Amaryllis turned to look at her, though surprisingly without annoyance. She plucked a flower from her boa and used its petals to brush off the residue that flung from Rina's mouth and off of her face.

"Siblings?" She repeated. "Oh no, I'm an only child, as is my mummy and my me-maw. Mummy always said, 'One's good enough for me!' Besides, I came from a typical garden commune, which is like one big happy family, anyway. We would invite the male Roselia and Roserade over sometimes and, well, you know, add some manly gibberellin into our feminine mix." She glanced over to the side with a giggle, remembering her first botanical garden party when she was old enough to join the romps. Her partner had a hard time keeping up with her during the three-legged hedge maze race.

Her willing response seemed to inspire another employee to inquire more of her, as the Ninjask made himself known in the form of a question.

"Why did I decide to start up Forget-Me-Not?" She restated, picking up her saucer and tea for herself. "Well, ever since I was just a little Flabébé, I had dreamed of becoming some sort of designer. My dearest mummy was always an event coordinator back home for the Spring Botanical Garden Party, the big event where all we little flower Fairies got together to socialize, and maybe even build some special, life-long relationships with the male commune that lived over the stream on the hill across from us--I mean, if the female Roselia weren't so petty and stingy about sharing..." She batted her eyes as she stirred her drink with a little spoon. She digressed, "Anyway, it is a big deal, this party, and my mother had a true talent for style and design. I learned all my basics from her, and then some. But she never did any of it for profit--and why would she anyway? There was nothing to gain from it since we only dealt with a couple other communities across the stream. Why, I didn't even know about money until a pack of foreign Pokemon slowly floated down stream on a dinky little raft they built. A giant Pangoro was wading behind it, steering them from drifting aimlessly onto the banks. Oh my goodness, that was a ridiculous sight, too."

She took a smiling sip of her drink and excused herself from the lowly buzzing insect to sit back down comfortably in her bean bag chair before continuing. "Some of us young women from my commune were curious when we saw these other Pokemon, some of them of species we had never seen before! We walked alongside the bank, calling out to them and asking what they were doing. They said they were going to pioneer their own Pokemon town, and they said anyone was free to join them. I had enough time to trot back and tell mummy and me-maw about it, and they had enough time to argue amongst themselves about whether or not I ought to leave to go with a bunch of people who may as well be searching for the fountain of youth for all they knew.

"It was the biggest risk of my life to come here, and the biggest risk for my mother to let me go, even with the pressure from the rest of the commune to keep me there. If this plan to make a town had failed, I'd be stranded with a bunch of Pokemon eking it out to live sustainably. This town is a far cry from home. I'd even say it's about two months down the river, the one that's about four days west of here."

"But you know what?" She smiled broadly at the Ninjask, before looking down with a sort of humility into the reflection of herself in her drink. "My grandmother believed in me. She wanted me to go out and be an adventurous woman, and to make a living apart from the commune. My mother cared so much for my safety that she at least had reservations about it, but she also put her faith in me too, that I would be responsible for myself. And for they two, I am absolutely happy that I am so deeply cared for. Who would have thought I was going to be one of the first Pokemon to settle Jubilee, sitting on that raft with our future mayor himself."

Orx of Twinleaf · Jun 15, 2016

Druag

Blair had gotten up and engaged Castiel about something or other, but Druag wasn't paying attention.

He had offended her, somehow, out of sheer ignorance. Either he had said something that had gotten under her skin or else he had inadvertently called a bad memory to her mind.

"... it's not like the last twenty years of my life were a disappointment or anything."

That was what she had said. Druag couldn't imagine she was much older than twenty to begin with, and that much of her life had been a disappointment? Druag had only been in his own pitiable position for a little over a year. What could she have gone through for two decades?

Could Druag even begin to comprehend it?

He got up slowly, blind to whatever fiery thing was happening in the middle of the room. He hobbled mechanically to the far wall, opposite the counter, and stared at the bookshelf. His eye stared and stared, unseeing, as a familiar stinging monologue took its place at the fore of his mind. If anything, Druag's earlier useless surge of spirit had only emboldened it to new depths of causticity.

This time will be different, huh? Oh, you weren't totally wrong Druag: last time it took two years for this to happen! You stupid, unlearning idiot! It was cutting deeper than it usually did, for some reason, and Druag stood still as a statue, back straight and hands on his cane, staring through the shelf and taking slow, steady breaths.

All you did was lessen yourself in her eyes, Druag, just like you've done with everyone you've ever met. Truly, you show the world that there is no such thing as rock-bottom; that you can always fall further. What business do you even have still drawing breath, you useless buffoon? Where are you going, anymore, but to your alien grave, unmourned and unmissed?

Druag didn't move. He stood as still as ever he had as he tried and failed to shut the voice up. He clamped his jaws together to keep his lips from quivering. You should have never crawled out of that cave-in, you miserable beast. You should have died with the rest of the world you used to know.

As he stood there, eye unfocused and glassy, his mind played back a slew of quotes from the past year, from Pokémon of all sorts that he had met. And every one drove the nail of his monologue deeper into his heart.

"Don't you ever complain about the pain," the Nidoqueen said as she changed the bandages on his chest. "There are people who will never be able to feel pain again: don't you ever complain of living."

"Look!" cried the Porygon-Z as it flung open the barn doors and showed them all the horror within. "Look at the corpses of your kin, you animals! Look and know how many mothers and fathers you have eaten!"

"Oh, just trying to reverse-engineer it for Pokémon use," the Alakazam said as he probed the monitor and twiddled his spoons in thought. "Don't see why you would care, Druag, you won't live to see it implemented."

"At least you can still walk," the Wailord said as the boxes and bags were strapped down to her back. "The only way I'll ever know the world is through the stories of my passengers. At least you can see it first-hand."

"These things weren't made for us to use," the Zebstrika said spitefully, his reigns clanging like chains. "At least you have hands, man; I'm just an engine. And when I break down, that'll be all she wrote for me."

"Oh, sure you can live off Berries." The Pyroar took another huge bite out of his Tauros steak. "If you don't mind pretending to be something you'll never become."

The Ludicolo drummed his palms on the counter as the others joined him in the chorus. "So I called up my lady, told her I'mma gonna be late~ Work's been a nightmare, I've got too much on my plate~ I can tell by the way you're acting you've been tired too~ But just give me some more time, I swear I'll make it up to you~"

"Hope's for the people who haven't been where we have, Druag." The Beheeyem's IV clattered as he gestured with his words. "It's up to us to keep up the lie."

"Listen here, Drew," the Toxicroak said from out of under his cowboy hat, "I ain't never met me a fella what deserved to die. But I've met my share o' fellas what deserve to suffer 'till the world stops turnin'. Do you think you're one of em?"

The Kricketune stamped his foot as he brought his tune to a close. "And ol' Sam you know he showed em all that even a lowly Bug could stand tall."

"I know I might not seem to be in a position to say this," the letter went on, Druag all but hearing his cousin's voice in his head, "but life is quite the unfair hooligan. You must fight it on its own ground, old fellow: poke it in the eyes and kick it in the unmentionables! It's only fair after how much it does it to you, you know."

"Curse you, Druag, you stupid animal!" the Haxorus cried, having halted in his retreat to throw one last thorn into Draug's conscience. "You'll rue the day you crossed me! You useless buffoon! You ignorant brute!

"You simple oaf!"

And like that, Druag was gone, leaving nothing but his rigid, staring body propped by the bookshelf, eye unseeing, ears unhearing, and mind trapped in its own personal hell.

Xtrashy · Jun 17, 2016

Well, after her obvious sarcastic remark managed to fly over everyone's head like a arrow narrowly grazing across the top of someones skull she let out a quiet sigh and simply sat there, waiting for this great meeting of the minds to come to an end. Of course she pretty much just sat there and listened, taking in every bit of information everyone was giving out, not like it mattered at all, she didn't care. She only wondered if this whole thing would take much longer because by this point she had grown so wearily bored that she tried to find entertainment elsewhere, and she was rewarded in her diligent search by a speck.

What was this speck? Who knew, could be a small piece of dust, or a particle of skin, or a tiny shred of cloth. But there it was just floating along in the air, it gently drifted to and fro, hovering on a barely existent breeze above everyone else. It slowly drifted above Benicle where it was disturbed by the flapping of his wings, so much so that the tiny speck whisked over past the top of Rina's little bell bobble before swirling around and doing a few small loops behind Cicaro's head. From there the tiny speck made it's way over towards the front door, just floating helplessly, and before long it was blown back over towards Benicle's wings once more where it was shot across the circle of pokemon just past Amaryllis's back. Then it saw fit to float over towards herself, passing her and landing on a shelf where it ended it's floating journey until some new gust of air picked it up and carried it off.

Foxrally · Jun 17, 2016

Status: Enjoying a front-row seat to a magic show

Click here to view Errol's application!

Held Item: Food

Errol the Qwilfish

Errol munched quietly at his box of assorted nuts and fruits, letting his mind wander aimlessly as the rest of the store's employees talked. A question from Gabriel suddenly snapped the Qwilfish out of his trance.

"So, going to stay on the counter and continue to be the greeter? Such a job suits you splendidly."

"Oh, th-thank you!" Errol beamed, genuinely glad that at least someone appreciated his work in the store. "And yes, I think so. Unless Mister Castiel needs me for anyth-"

He stopped as he noticed that Gabriel had already gone up and left before giving him the chance to reply. He lowered his gaze back to his food. "But thank you for asking..."

He continued his meal silently for a while, Silver sitting quietly at his side, when Castiel mentioned something about Aprijuice. Before he had the time to ask for a glass, he noticed Blair beginning to step back into an open area of the store. His interest piqued, he decided to watch. The fox pulled her wand out of her tail, and engulfed herself in fire, reappearing moments later behind a rather surprised Castiel. Whoa... Errol thought, amazed by the display. Suddenly, more flames erupted under the ghost, teleporting him somewhere else. Errol cheered, slapping his tail against the floor as if he was clapping. There was some time left until the store opened, so at least this was a fun way to pass the time.

Dusty · Jun 17, 2016

SILVER

Silver finished her food, sighing happily at her now full stomach. She hadn't really eaten much that morning, so the food was a welcome change. Pushing the box to one side, she wiped her muzzle with the back of one of her paws, brushing away stray crumbs. Dutifully she picked up the now empty cardboard box that had housed her meal and dropped it in the nearby trash can, careful not to drop any crumbs from the box onto the floor. That done she turned to the rest of the group.

After Gabriel and Blair's petty argument, Silver had mostly tuned out the rest of the group. She liked being with other people, but not when arguments were happening. Or when those in the group were being idiots. She knew she shouldn't judge, but Gabriel had been pretty narcissistic about his whole mission, and Blair could always be stubborn to a fault, and didn't like talking about much other than magic. She sighed, knowing that those idiots were her friends and coworkers, but that didn't give them the excuse to act like children.

She looked up just in time to dance away from a flash of flames. The source of the flames was, of course, Blair. Showing off again she could tell. She had caught a bit of the end of the conversation between her and Castiel, something about the difference between magic in the fantasy sense and in the practical sense of sleight of hand and deception. There was a difference, obviously, and Blair seemed to have taken it upon herself to prove that to their boss. An instant later Castiel reappeared in another flash of flames. With a bow and a sweep of her cape, Blair gleefully said, "Pretty good? Don't you mean amazing!"

Well...I've...got to hand it to you Blair. That was...pretty good." The boss sounded almost kind of begrudging in his praise of her abilities, but there was a slight hint of amusement there as well Silver thought she heard. "Although you forget...I'm a ghost." As he said it, his body lowered down through the counter Blair was standing on, leaving behind only his pink cloak behind, crumpled in a small pile at her feet.

"Okay," Blair said, chuckling slightly, "That was kind of funny. At least I impressed ya somewhat boss!" It had been impressive to be sure, but there were more important things to worry about at the moment.

"So, uh...boss," she wasn't quite sure where to talk, seeing as how Castiel had yet to emerge from the counter. Which meant he could be literally anywhere hidden in the store, which was a bit unsettling. "With Blair on the fortune teller stand, and Errol greeting customers, what did you want the rest of us to do? I mean, we are supposed to open soon, so…"

Fen-Fen · Jun 17, 2016

After having her own little spectacle, Blair sat down on the floor cross-legged and began thinking to what was to happen regarding Castiel's little endeavor with her magic act and how applicable it'll be to what the boss has in mind for the upcoming influx of customers. It's nice to have a good crowd, especially if it's for the stand. It's always nice to be able to see an impressed crowd… She sighed contentedly at the thought, the irritation and confusing emotions of the previous interactions involving Gabriel and Druag having been more or less swept from her mind after her little bit of fun with the boss.

It's times like theses that Blair ponders her life in a wistful sort of way. To say that she would prefer things to be like the "good ol' days" would be nothing but a delusional lie, just as it would be to say that magic is real. Wouldn't that be nice, to be able to make problems go away at the snap of your fingers like that. Perhaps she should chat with the boss more about that at a later date; she couldn't help but feel he got the wrong impression of what she really meant.

Of course, Blair put apart those queries for the pressing matter at hand: the order he had given. Castiel had not yet materialized yet, so she called out in no particular direction, not sure where he will rematerialize, "Boss, ya there? This order of yours has got me real excited and I wanna be on top of this."

Who's Kiyo? · Jun 18, 2016

" Well, if all else fails, I suppose I could always use my looks to marry rich. "

♢ Cicaro the Eleventh ♢
- Shiny Furret -- - Level 23
- Forget-Me-Not Employee (+1)

Today's Achievements

Created joint post with Grelzar!

Bowed down to the real Queen of Forget-Me-Not!

Would be first in line at the Insect Pride Parade!

Uncovered that parents skimped over the whole "contraception" lesson in Health Class.

Would play pranks on the mentally incompetent!

Might be spiritual descendant to author of Mienshao Kampf!

-------- " Looking down to make sure he wasn't having a stroke. "

----------Samuel had been stewing in confusion the minute Cicaro had started up a conversion with Amaryllis. Their vocabulary beyond the phrase "yup!" had threw him off track, leaving him to the mercy of his fears as his "knight in shining armor" casually disregarded the presence of creatures like Spora and The Flying Thing. The Bidoof gripped Cicaro's arm harder as he tried to pull his hero away from cohorting with the monsters. " Why are you talking to them? " he whispered through clenched teeth, while motioning towards the Bugs.
----------If a neurologist had opened Cicaro's skull right then, they would've found it hollow; the tissues of his brain having evaporated into a thick white cloud of elation. As a result of this state, Cicaro didn't quite understand the Bidoof's trepidation. " I'm trying to make a connection with my boss, I guess ... ? "
----------There was an element of discord within his mind, though. The beaver had said "them," which usually implied multiple people; curious, considering Cicaro had the impression he had only been talking to his boss. He closely analyzed his field of vision, giving the image of Amaryllis fiddling with a tied bundle of utensils a very scientific look-over, trying to debunk his previous idea that he had been talking to just one person; however, he couldn't procure any evidence to prove the contrary.
----------" Why did you refer to her as th … " he started, before gasping and leaning in to whisper. " Have I been misgendering Amaryllis?! " he panicked.
----------Samuel gave the Furret a frustrated look. " Amaryllis is a lady! Look at her flowers! " he replied in a matter-of-fact tone.
----------" Wow, " Cicaro commented loudly, mentally adding "transmisogynist" to his impression of Samuel. The eggs were the only thing stopping him from going down the beaver's throat.
----------In the midst of formulating terrible distain for the Bidoof, a cold pinching sensation scratched Cicaro's neck. He reached out to rub the spot and was just in time catch the feeling of another hand withdrawing back past where a shoulder might've been located. Craning his neck a bit, he found two piercing red orbs affixed to the face of a Ninjask.
----------" Hey you, " mumbled Betelgeuse, " when you have the opportunity, I'd love to discuss more about that town Farlance. "
----------The Ninja Pokemon was satisfied with a wrinkled brow and affirmative nod as a response before buzzing off to inquire something about Amaryllis. Suddenly, a large portion of Cicaro's body felt like it was vibrating. In the process of looking down to make sure he wasn't having a stroke, the Furret found Samuel pressed up against his stomach, shivering with anxiety and sweating profusely; his eyes locked onto Berthold's shimmering flurry of wings. Cicaro strained his mental capacities and made the connection, sealing off his realization with a satisfied "Oh."

- Bowed down to the real Queen of Forget-Me-Not!

----------" Don't let him touch you, Chic! " Samuel beseeched; digging himself further into Cicaro's fur as if he could take refuge in it.
----------Cicaro contemptuously sucked his teeth. " Don't be so touchy yourself, " he said, pushing away the buck-toothed dolt. " What did Ba … Berjer … Babajide ever do to you, anyway? "
----------" Bugs are evil, " Samuel hissed, a surprised look wrapped around his placid face. " You said it yourself, Chic! "
----------Cicaro nearly vomited; mostly because he was so appalled at the accusation, but partly because his intestines refused to properly digest all the sugary treats he had consumed. " When did I ever say that? " he cried.
----------The Bidoof's ears drooped in disappointment. " Are you really Chic? "
----------" In both name and definition, you wretch, " Cicaro countered, taking a triumphant sip of his tea. In his own way, it appeared that Samuel was finally getting that Cicaro wasn't planning on justifying his typism.
----------The Furret took a deep breath and allowed euphoria to once more take over his body; granting him the ability to approach Samuel with a calmer demeanor. " Listen, I don't know how you know me, or what gave you the impression that I'll pander to your blatant entomophobia, so … I'd like some answers if you're so intent on pestering me. "
----------Samuel's face had melted into a depressed slop. " So you don't remember … " he sulked, preemptively twinging at the potential for another scalding insult.
----------" Remember what - " the Furret began, before stopping himself at the sight of Samuel's sniveling mug. Something about it struck as horrifically familiar. " Wait. "

- Would be first in line at the Insect Pride Parade!

----------There was a loud knocking at the entrance. Cicaro slowly cocked his head towards the source of the noise and saw sunlight pour through small square windows at the top of a beautiful mahogany door. Tacky yellow wallpaper sunk its spindly fingers into the interior of the store and stretched itself to cover up as much of the present moment as it could. A Bibarel quickly emerged from the managerial office and hurried over to answer their guest's call. " Wait, wait, wait, wait ... " the Furret whispered to himself.
----------" Evalyn, darling! " a woman's voice boomed out, trimmed with frivolous excitement. A normal-colored Furret with limp ears wearing a collared shirt, suit coat, and large pearl earrings emerged from the door and smooched the air besides the face of the Bibarel, punctuating her action with " muah, muah. "
----------" I am honored to have you at my home, Headmistress! " the Bibarel greeted, trying to imitate the gesture.
----------" Headmistress? " the ferret said incredulously, mocking offense. " Never heard of her. Today we're Evelyn and Evalyn; Eve and Eva, sweetie. "
----------The playful yet desperation-ridden quality was unmistakable to Cicaro, and he had to hand it to his mother: she hadn't aged a day since whenever this memory took place. Eve took in the sight of the house before sighing with relief. " Can't tell you how long I've been meaning to have a girls' day. "
----------" Eve and Eva, yes, I'll keep that in mind Head- I mean, Eve, " Evalyn replied with a nervous grin on her face, her eye catching the gigantic bottle of wine nestled in Eve's paws. " And is that a Cabernet Kecleon? You shouldn't have! "
----------The two women busied themselves with reading the label on the wine when a pudgy Sentret walked past them. " Oh, look, she brought a child with her, " he said indignantly as he plopped his backpack down on the hardwood floor.
----------Eve cleared her throat. " Where are my manners? " she said, " Evalyn, this is my son, Cicaro. "
----------At the sight of the child, Evalyn gave a false gasp of surprise. " Well aren't you a big boy, Cicaro! It's very nice to meet you, " the Bibarel said dotingly. Her face promptly contorted into an expression of deep thought. " And if we're doing introductions, I'd like you to meet my son, Samuel. "
----------The Scout Pokemon and his mother both succumbed to puzzlement in the awkward pause that followed. Eve eyed Evalyn's hands to see if she was indicating to any place in particular, while Cicaro surmised that her son was imaginary. Evalyn bit back her fury and looked downward. " Move. Aside, " she demanded.
----------A tiny, trembling Bidoof stepped into view from behind his mother. " H- H- Hi, " Samuel whimpered.
----------Eve laid a hand on her chest, enraptured at the Bidoof's adorable timid nature and was thankful, as she too was beginning to adopt the same hypothesis as her son. " I don't think my heart can take it! Can you imagine the two of them being best friends? " she chuckled.
----------" No, " Cicaro interjected.
----------Eve laughed louder to overpower her son's comment and handed the wine to Evalyn. " Here, take this, dear. I need to chat with my boy a moment. "
----------" You'll find me in the kitchen, darling, " Evalyn replied, her words dripping in honey. She knelt down next to Samuel and exuded motherly charm as she patted the little beaver on the head. " Dear, get your toys out so you two can play. "
----------" B - But, I don't have any toys - " the Bidoof responded nervously.
----------" Just get anything you can find, " Evalyn rebutted, her tone sharper than the blade on a Honedge. Eve waited until the Bibarel gave a wave and exited back into the managerial office before snatching Cicaro by the shoulders.
----------" You'd do well to listen to me, young man, " she warned, " Mommy doesn't get opportunities like this to go out anymore … and Daddy doesn't keep much in her company these days because he's afraid that if he gets within five feet of me we'll have another set of fifteen kids. "
----------Eve swallowed her tongue and put her paw over the dumb grin Cicaro was making at her. " So if you could just … not be a problem for the next however-many hours, that would be great. And it wouldn't hurt you to make a friend. "
----------She straightened her jacket and glared over in the direction of the kitchen. " Eva, I trust you already grabbed the corkscrew? " she hollered. Right before she finished her journey to join Evalyn in Amaryllis' office, she stopped and stared at the Sentret with dead seriousness. " Behave, " she ordered.

- Uncovered that parents skimped over the whole
"contraception" lesson in Health Class.

----------Cicaro frowned at the sound of the door slamming. The noise tore off a stubborn layer of reality and allowed the memory to take over an entire half of the store; revealing a modern, well-furnished living room. The Sentret looked around for Samuel, finding him transfixed with something on a wall. Silence permeated through the room while Cicaro analyzed the wall himself, failing to determine what exactly had commanded the Bidoof's attention.
----------" What do you do for fun around here, " he asked, incredibly bored.
----------" I watch it. " Samuel didn't take his eyes off the wall, as if concerned he'd miss something, but pointed at it as if the motion would help the Sentret understand.
----------Cicaro attempted to find anything that explained the Bidoof's obsessive focus. The wall didn't even have any pictures or heirlooms hung on it; it just stood, like a plain, white monolith. The Sentret put out his hand to see if it had something to do with the texture, but he quickly snatched it back when the tips of his fingers got coated in a thick, wet goop. He immediately scowled at Samuel in judgment, absolutely beside himself when he discerned that the beaver was literally watching paint dry.
----------" Never did I imagine that Arceus would make such a boring creature, " he criticized.
----------" Lord Arceus, " Samuel hastily corrected, not taking his eyes off the wall and not comprehending the sarcasm.
----------" So what's your deal? " the Sentret rudely probed. " My mom says you're homeschooled. You too stupid for regular school or something? "
----------Samuel merely turned his head and blankly stared at Cicaro, giving him a lethargic blink with out-of-sync eyelids.
----------The ferret let out a huff of exhaustion. He began drumming his feet as he dug through his backpack and found the silky texture he was looking for. The Bidoof had ended up being more unentertaining than he anticipated, and he figured that now would be as good a time as any to try out his latest trick.
----------" Hey, you know hide-and-seek? " he asked.
----------" Yup! My mom plays it with me all the time! " Samuel piped gleefully, " I always hide, and she can never find me! "
----------" Your life's … that sad, huh? " Cicaro cracked the bones in his fingers and took note of a nearby staircase. " Well, uh, we're gonna play it. I'll go first, so you stay here and … how high can you count? "
----------" Ten-teen! " Samuel smiled, exposing his massive tooth.
----------" … Brilliant. Count to - that, and then come find me! " the Sentret said, throwing on his backpack. " Ready? "

- Would play pranks on the mentally incompetent!

----------Samuel gave a fierce nod and commenced counting. Cicaro dashed upstairs, making the most of however much time "ten-teen" allotted, and quickly discovered what he assumed to be the Bidoof's bedroom. It was a drab space: fitted simply with a bed and wardrobe that, when opened, revealed that its purpose had been reimagined so that it could serve as some sort of large trinket box; its floor being littered with sticks and stones and other uninteresting knick-knacks. Not much had been done to decorate it either, as the only fixtures in the room were an Arceus statue, a nightlight, ugly red floral curtains, and a hung picture of his mother beside the bed that had faint kiss marks on it. The Sentret went back to the top of the stairs and strained to hear what number Samuel was on, and after confirming that the beaver was struggling to figure out what came after "four," he went back into the room and got to work.
----------The Bidoof proudly exclaimed his last number and a second hadn't passed by before Cicaro heard a rapid progression of footsteps waddling up the stairs. The door to the bedroom creaked open with a loud bang, Samuel having barreled into it not expecting it to be closed, and weepy murmurs filled the room; first characterized by pain, and then out of fear as the beaver noticed that the area was pitch black sans the little trickle of light poking out from behind the thick curtains.
----------" Gotta hide, gotta hide, gotta hide, " Samuel chanted. Cicaro rolled his eyes, recognizing the fact that the poor creature forgot he was the one seeking. The doors of the wardrobe jostled in front of the Sentret, and Cicaro managed to do some last-minute adjustments to his costume before Samuel pulled them open and began screaming.
----------The Bidoof tripped down the stairs and frantically scurried on all fours as he ran out of the memory space and into the aisles of Forget-Me-Not. Not far behind him was a Sentret wearing the shed skin of a Silcoon, an item he had bought off his recently evolved classmate. The two children played a traumatizing game of cat-and-mouse; knocking over bouquets and toppling over the entire greeting card section. At one point young Samuel climbed over the mountainous expanse of Spora's mushroom as the Parasect listlessly followed the adventure of a floating speck, and jumped from the peek into Amaryllis' flowery headdress.
----------Eventually, the Sentret's lack of fitness caught up with him and he removed the costume. He couldn't hold back his laughter until his body demanded that he breathe, and when he could control himself, he noticed that the Bidoof was still blindly running through the store in an unstoppable frenzy; currently trying to climb up the frame of a painting. Cicaro tried calling out to Samuel, but that only caused him to leap across the entirety of the store, sending the painting clattering to the floor, and land on the front counter where he smacked the buttons of the cash register until it shot open and he could hide within the money.
----------A hint of remorse came upon the Cicaro. He dropped the cocoon skin and made his way to the counter, where he found Samuel using dollar bills to muffle his sobbing. The Bidoof flinched when Cicaro touched his hand, but when he recognized the Sentret, he immediately clung onto his friend and incoherently recounted his plight.
----------" No, no, look - I … I beat up the evil Bug for you, " Cicaro stammered, pointing to the limp skin of the floor.
----------It had taken a few rubs on the back to get the Bidoof calm enough to look at the scene, but there was a noticeable happiness that entered Samuel's mood as he gave the cocoon a few kicks. " Is it dead? " he inquired, his teary eyes glistening in the light.
----------" Uh … Yes? Yes! It, uh … shriveled away! " Cicaro exclaimed, feigning excitement. He went over and ripped a section of the skin apart to show the lack of substance within. " There's nothing in its body anymore! We did it! "
----------Eve and Evalyn came into the room, witnessing the sight of Samuel idolizing Cicaro amongst the trashed remains of Forget-Me-Not. Eve opted for a much more subdued reaction than her incensed companion; topping of her wine and brushing down the fur at the top of her head.
----------" I can't imagine what I did to deserve situations like this, " she mentioned aloud, " I must've committed genocide in a past life or something. "

- Might be spiritual descendant to author of Mienshao Kampf!

----------All aspects of the memory blew away and joined Spora's speck as dust in the air, reversing all the damage it had caused and leaving Cicaro an adult once more; slumped in his bean bag chair with a mortified expression on his face. He couldn't bear to look at Samuel, ashamed of the fact he unintentionally instilled speciesism into someone and that he had the audacity to forget something like that. To be fair, Cicaro would only see Samuel a handful of times later and not at all during his teenage years, though he couldn't help but contemplate how self-centered he had been to not even consider the repercussions -
----------No. No, I was a stupid kid, it was prank, and if this jerk was raised right in any sense of the word, he would know better, Cicaro thought, comforting himself. There was no tea remaining in his cup, so instead of using his drink to bring him back to his senses, he got up from his chair and thoroughly shook out of his fur; in preparation to head back to the trolley. " Yeah … yeah, I … don't remember. Sorry, Sam. "
----------The Moomoo Milk rested just below half the initial capacity of its container. Cicaro was unsure if everybody had had their fill of tea, but at the same time didn't care; so he debated with his manners until he found a neutral solution. He took up the bottle in full view of everyone and peered around the room, tempting someone to call him out before drinking the rest of its contents. It was then when he noticed that they were missing someone.
----------" Where's the Weavile? " he asked to the room. " I think his name's Sebastian? "

Junier · Jun 21, 2016

'You would like to see it again, my application?'

Here's the deets:
⇠ ㉑ ⇢
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Location: Forget-Me-Not; the project area.
__
Mentions:
Amaryllis, Benicle
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Held Item(s): (To much) Food
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Status: Cursed! (+Atk, +Def, -Spd)
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⬈ Rina the Chimecho ~ Forget Me Not

as of 7:16 AM:

-------"Another single child! Someone lonely just as me!" the Chimecho chirped, though with a full mouth. Her ebullience was, on the other hand, far from obscured as she bounced buoyantly at the sound of Amaryllis' nonplussed reply. She had nothing else as follow-up, for Amaryllis was continuing onward, truly stretching to add more content to this humdrum game 20 Questions. Rina was not in the most controlled state-of-mind but politeness was far from beyond herself, and so, to her boss she paid adequate attention.

-------There was the indecipherable creaking of paper plate against metal cart as the loaded breakfast platter played a dangerous balancing act, teetering just over the trolley's edge. It took both of the chime's "arms" as well as her more advantageous tail to rightfully balance it, or attempt to, as there was truly no more space on the tiny trolley to fashion a more proper eating space. Rina wrestled with the provender predicament she'd gotten herself into—though still too enamored by the concept of a 85-percent sweet breakfast to suffer any real regret yet—while hanging onto Amaryllis' words as best she could. She feigned eagerness. She tried to finish the Pecha poffin she'd stuffed in her mouth but found it harder to do as Amaryllis continued, answered another question, and delved farther into her complete, happy family. Her mother, and she had a very endearing title for that mother of hers. That was when Rina stopped paying attention.

-------It was difficult to discern emotion from the lithe Chimecho, usually. Currently, however, there seemed to be a very dark aura lingering over Rina as she turned disinterested towards her food once more and started to pick at the berries that'd fallen in-between the crackers and cakes. Family was an ire-provoking topic for her, especially when brought up through what was essentially gloating. A loving mother who was always there... How lovely, Rina congratulated. She nearly inquired if Amaryllis had a father. What was he like? Bumbling? Weak-willed? Inept? Doubtfully so; that seemed practically impossible for a fae of such fruitful upbringing. Most of the details on said upbringing had become lost upon her mind as her attention had been so swiftly severed. It was like grimy water, dissolved, leaving its settled shlock behind to muck up her head, so truly it became all that was left amongst a few remnants, faint reminders of some ancient feeling once called "blind happiness". Rina took one sweeping look over the pile of filth and threw down her muckrake, promptly refusing to analyze any portion of it. Instead it felt more fitting to be, very simply, mad.

-------Her anger manifested itself immediately as aggression, the Curse clearing all instinct to mull and brood in-place of instantaneous action. Packing her gab with another poffin, even with great gusto, was not enough for Rina. On the subject of "gabbing", there was Amaryllis, tittering away. Even Hard-C-H-Sound was no longer listening, nevertheless the infantile Bidoof clinging to his pelt. The only sycophant remaining in the room was Barnicle, floating directly near their manager with the attentiveness characteristic of an overeager primary school student. His crimson compound-eyes boggled like a baby Pokemon first regarding authority. The Ninjask's legs seemed abnormal hanging there, not crossed applesauce style. Barnicle even inquired, quickly, like a hatchling would: "Happy in your-job you hired me gotten-a-good job, myquestionis... whatmadeyoudecidetostartupthisbusiness, whatinfluencedyoutogointobusiness?"

-------All of this paired with that incessant buzzing from his fervent wing-flapping and Rina concluded that she could not stand Barnicle. There was something else she vaguely remembered him doing to her head-on that imbued a strong distaste of him and it was only accentuated further now in her current mood. She was nettled enough to speak under Amaryllis as the Fairy was responding with enthusiasm. "Oh, yes, of course. Of course. Of course."

-------It was all incoherent grumbling until her tolerance was finally fried and she rose determinedly from her second poffin, as if she'd clinked a glass and demanded a toast. Just as Amaryllis seemingly settled herself, Rina icily proclaimed: "Well, Amaryllis, if '20 Questions' is still playing around I would like to understand what is your thoughts on the workers you yourself have hired? Because I do think personally that, in my opinion, we have a little bit too many BUGS!"

-------The ending exclamation was thrown from her chords with a great, unintended resonance as she concluded finally and dramatically by affixing a solid yellow stare on that Ninjask in-particular.

Jauntier · Jun 21, 2016

Spirited Away
7:20 AM | Main Floor

"Oh gracious, Silver!" The familiar voice rang as clear as it ever did through the air, unobstructed by physical matter, and yet its speaker had yet to emerge from hiding. "Always the busybody. Well, if you can't sit still and lounge about for another half hour, why don't you come join me in getting a certain someone properly attired for her role?

"Or..." Slowly, the pink cape rose from the counter by some invisible force, its limpness now filling with the unmistakable contour of its owner, though he still remained unseen. "Really, anyone for that matter can join us." Color began to fade into view, and now violet hues solidified into the Mismagius, his intense stare now settled on the diminutive Absol for a few strong seconds, before glossing over the rest of the room. His eyes lingered on an absentminded but grave-striken Druag for a moment, taking a mental note before passing on. "But I need one volunteer to help me get Blair all set up. The rest of you sweep up your crumbs. There are wet wipes back here, under the counter if you've got sticky digits. Then take my mahogany bento boxes and stack them up here on the counter--if I find any of them anywhere else but the counter, I will not be happy. Those cushions I passed out stack right beside them as well. I'll collect those later. If you have to throw something into the trash, go ahead, but be sure to empty the garbage pails into the trash cans outside and replace the bags in the pails back in here."

He slowly descended from above the countertop to meet his employees at eye level, continuing, "We only have half an hour left, you lot. That's not a lot of time, but when you finish doing all of that, you are free to spend your time however. Other stores are already starting to do their last-minute prep work before business opens, so there'll be a little bit of activity outside as shopkeeps and their employees make their way through. When Blair is finished getting suited for the job, I'll assign the rest of you your store positions. Good? Good."

At that finality, there was the audible sound of a door unlocking, and the heavy creaking of hinges as the Manager's Office behind the Checkout counter opened itself ajar.

"Blair," he spoke as he began to drift backwards, uncannily ascending over the counter as if he also had fixed eyes on the back of his head. The Office door began to open now, as if to embrace its new recipient into its tall and dark maw. "Come now and join me in my Office.

"... Also, someone help Errol into his bowl?" He croaked, breaking his own performance before he forgot. "He needs to stay hydrated 'at a regulated, ambient thermal comfort level... as per request'."

__________________________________________

Forget-Me-Not
7:20 AM | Main Floor

Dabbing her thin, glossed lips of tea and crumbs, she balled up her paper napkin and plopped it into the mouth of her tea cup. She gathered her small utensils and set them on her saucer with her cup, stood from her seat, and set them atop the trolley, officially finished with her own breakfast. She turned her head to give Cicaro a look of amused bemusement at his question concerning a Weavile named Sebastian.

"I'm not sure who you're talking about, Cicaro," she cooed to him, a gentle smile pushing up cheeks that now looked dusted with a bit of rose. "I do not know any Weavile, let alone by that name."

She pivoted smoothly on her green heel, her hands clasped together and propped up against her chest in a display like that of a carefree and hopeful maiden. Her eyes twinkled with a brightness that was not typical of her, as she appeared for once not to look over her employees with a critical gaze, but with a genuine delight. She opened her mouth to say something when Rina caught her attention, and with a comment that even Amaryllis in this elated state recognized as inflammatory.

"Now, Rina," she began, the matriarch in her emerging as she raised a palm up against the Chimecho, "We do not start trouble with our co-workers!"

Rina was dealt a Reprimand!
Don't start trouble with your co-workers!

She then turned her palm as if to present an intangible gift to the wind chime as she imparted her sentiment. "Every employee I hire has unique skills that are crucial to the longevity of this our store. But we need a nurturing and positive environment if we want to grow as a team. And that means being respectful of all our co-workers. I do not want want to hear an outburst like that again or someone will be pulled into my Office."

Amaryllis swept a loosed flower back into her bangs after that remark, her face having taken on a more solemn frown as she nodded to the end of her statement, affirming herself. She then turned to face the big orange fungus in the room, her dainty smile returning as she outstretched her hands.

"Spora~" she sang, "Speaking of my Office, it is time to get you dressed! Come, come, follow me! And I need one other person to come as well to help me." She turned to sweep a glance over her remaining crew: a sniveling Bidoof with a tawdry tie, an unusually loud-mouthed and sluggish Chimecho, an abrasive and invasive Ninjask, and finally, Cicaro.

She gave an indiscriminate smile. "You decide among yourselves who should join me in helping beautify Spora here. The rest of you, please sweep up the rug, put my one chair back into the bean bag corner beside the window, put your dishes on top of the trolley cart, and any trash that you empty into the waste bin behind the counter here, please take it outside into the trash cans and replace the bag in here. Go out through the front door, please, not the Supply Room." She glanced up at a wall-mounted analog clock in the shape of a Kalosian castle over on the far wall, squinting a bit to read the time. "It's a bit past quarter-of 7, so there will be a few early birds out and about now outside. Store owners and their employees are making their way to get set for a busy day ahead of them. You all have a bit of free time left, so when all of that is done, you can spend it however until our star returns."

With a beckoning gesture to the Parasect, the Florges glided around to the end of the counter, pushed past the small spring plank that acted as a gate between those around and those behind the counter, and lugged off the large box of festival decorations from its perch. She turned around and met the closed Manager's Office whose door she could not open with her hands preoccupied.

She glanced over at Spora with a kindly look in need of assistance.

Xtrashy · Jun 21, 2016

She heard her boss singing her name, it felt like someone was draping a heavy cloth covered in barbs over her entire being as she listened to just her name being said in that manner. "Yeah I'm coming." she responded, her voice having the properties of wet clay as it simply fell out of her mouth to splatter into the atmosphere as a rather dull and awkward sound. But it didn't stop her from scuttling her big ole' bug self after her boss. She had been listening intently to the conversation after she had grown weary of watching that speck of dust, and she had been building the courage to actually throw in two cents about her own life when Amaryllis had ended their little meeting session and then practically killed any amount of joy in her by announcing it was time to play dress up.

As she followed her boss she noticed Amaryllis having trouble with the door, which was to be expected given her bosses current laden state. She moved herself forward and opened up the door with her claw, which she did rather deftly for it being a claw after all. Regardless she then waited for Amaryllis to head in before following herself. She couldn't help but wonder which of her coworkers would be coming in to help make her look like some grotesque fashion statement. She mostly hoped that it would be Cicaro, as she didn't want to know how Samuel would mess this up, not to mention that Bidoof always seemed on edge around her anyway. Rina probably wouldn't be a bad second, and she didn't really know what to think of Benicle in terms of fashion. But the most important reason is that Cicaro would likely make it so she wouldn't have to talk to Amaryllis at all, that would be absolutely perfect for her. Though what would be absolutely perfect is if this situation wasn't happening at all right now.

Orx of Twinleaf · Jun 21, 2016

Druag
Druag had fallen deep into the recesses of his memories now, lost among a slew of scenarios as his body played a stunning imitation of a rigid, upright corpse.

"I didn't mean to," Druag said sorrowfully.

"Well," Evans the Exeggcute said with one of his bodies as the other five kept reading the book open on his table, "that doesn't make it any less broken."

Druag bent to start trying to pick up the shards of burnt glass. "I didn't know it would do that."

One of Evans's five reading bodies moved to shimmy the page into turning while his sixth body continued its conversation. "I told you that the Dragon Type was too much for it and that only Grass and Bug Types could handle it properly."

Druag frowned. If Evans had said that, he didn't use anything like such sensible language when he did. "I guess I just didn't understand."

"Ah, don't be too hard on yourself. There's a lot that people don't understand. If you mess up cuz you don't know any better, then sure you messed up, but at least you'll learn a little bit."

Druag collected the slivers into the palm of his hand, his thick hide disallowing it to cut him. He deposited the mess into a box in the corner that was already filled with all manner of broken rubbish. "Well, I should have known better," Druag said.

All six of the Exeggcute's bodies turned to face Druag as Evans spoke this time. "Sometimes there will be things that you can never understand. Like, for example, you can never comprehend what it is to exist in six bodies." He danced the eggs around in a little twirl for emphasis. "And that's all there is to it. Similarly I can never understand how strange it must be to only have one set of eyes. At least I can feel how it is to have one body if I find a Leaf Stone, though. But you will never be able to understand what it is to be an Exeggcute. And maybe some day, because you don't understand, you mess up. It'll be your fault, but you can't really be held to blame for something like that. Because you couldn't have known."

"Yeah, but," Druag stammered, "she was so angry with me."

"Bah," Yaquig the Zebstrika said, stamping impatiently, "you give yourself too much credit." He and Druag watched the vociferous Glaceon disappear around the street corner. "She just doesn't like us in general. You know, us working in the shafts down below. It's got nothing to do with you."

Druag looked at Yaquig doubtfully. "Well if that was the case why didn't she say those things to you?"

Yaquig preened himself, striking a practiced pose that made his reigns catch the sunlight and glimmer in the powdering snow. "Are you kidding? Because I'm gorgeous."

Druag snorted amusedly. "Pft, whatever you say, Yaq. I still think I made her mad when I asked her if she knew where I could find a bed for myself."

Yaquig laughed good-naturedly, his reigns jingling like sleigh bells. "Geez, Drew, you need to hear yourself sometimes!" He dropped his voice into a deep mocking impression of the one-eyed Dragon. " 'Excuse me, miss, but I was looking for a place to sleep, do you know of a free bed I could rent' pfahahaha." Yaquig laughed some more, stamping the snow. "Come on, man, you gotta hear it with her ears, not just yours!"

"But, I don't hear anything," Druag said, incredulous.

The old Kricketune withdrew the gemstone from Druag's ear and returned it to his belt. "You just ain't tryin enough, friend." He laughed a ragged cackle, banging his claw against the table. "But that's just dandy: I din't hear it neither the first time."

Druag scratched the back of his head confusedly, and took another sip of his wishniak. "What was I supposed to hear, though?"

Jimbob downed his fifth glass of moomoo milk-and-honey in as many minutes and called for a refill before answering. "Hope, man, hope."

Druag had never had a head for poetic analogies of this caliber. He waved off the offered refill by the Lopunny who brought Jimbob glass number six. "And just what does hope sound like?"

"Well," Jimbob said, taking off his straw hat, "to me, it sounds somethin like this." He stood up and sawed his arms together rapidly in a fast and strangely invigorating tune that received a general applause from the other patrons as he sat down. "Had me a Vileplume from the human way tell me it sounds just like a human fiddle," he said, picking his glass back up. "Sounds like spirit and energy, like you could do anythin in the the world, friend. Hope sounds different for every 'mon and man in Arceus's dark universe. Don't ya worry none: you'll know it when ya hear it."

"I don't know about that," Druag said, shaking his head.

"I mean it though, Druag," Amberña said with a sternness in her voice that seemed all the more powerful for coming from the unexpected frame of an apron-wearing Audino. "Everyone's special to me. That includes you."

Druag lowered his gaze and drank some more hot chocolate, huddling deeper into the blanket he had been given. "Ms. Amberña, you're our foreman out here. You know a lot of us were probably criminals of some sort. How do you know I'm not a worthless worm?"

She crossed the room to him so that he had to look at her and meet the fire in her eyes. "Don't you ever say that, Druag. I'm your foreman and you're all my workers. It doesn't matter to you what I was before this because I'm your boss now. So that means I won't care about what you were. What matters to me is that you're my workers now. What matters to me is that you're all out here in the freezing cold to build this place a Center. I don't care if you have to do it, because you're doing it now." She returned to the kitchen to finish brewing up a second round of hot chocolate. "It doesn't matter what you think you were," she said from the other room. "Because you're not the Druag of then, you're the Druag of now."

Druag really didn't think he deserved that sort of inspirational speech, but knew that he had to be grateful that someone was trying. "... Thank you," he said.

The Toxicroak stopped and turned to look at him as if Druag had just accused him of sucking on a Swalot. "What?" McCallidy said.

Druag cleared his throat awkwardly. "I said thank you. For the save back there. After what I said, I wouldn't've blamed you for just walking away."

McCallidy turned to face Druag properly, so that his sheriff's star shown in the light of the sunset. He spat at the ground. "I don't know what kinda dark place you grew up in, Drew," he said, the rim of his cowboy hat hiding his eyes, "but we civilized folk don't let fellas get roughed up cuz of some petty grudge."

Druag was taken aback at that. "Well," he struggled, "thanks, anyway." He held out his hand awkwardly.

McCallidy left it hanging there, turning on his heel to walk back into the station. "I don't need no thanks for doin what any fella worth his breath oughtta do. Wherever you end up, you make sure you remember that a little bit of help can do more than anyone can ever know." He stopped and spat again, raising a hand in farewell, his back to the Dragon. "Take it easy, Drew."

"Take it easy," Druag said struggling to hold down the Aerodactyl with one hand and keep his cane steady on the incline with the other.

Barnt screeched again, flapping madly against Druag's grip. "Shut yo mouth, cragface, you don't know what I'm goin through! Let me loose, you Muk-suckin Ditto-licker!" He flailed about some more as Druag signaled Rajam spastically: the Infernape was taking her precious time getting her taser ready. Barnt went on, tears streaming down the sides of his tattooed face. "None of you Magikarps understand! Let me go, I'll kill em, I'll kill em all," he broke into sobs, his flapping calming down.

Druag managed to get a good grip on the back of Barnt's neck and gave Rajam a look so she knew he had it under control, now. "Maybe I can't understand, but you can't understand them either."

Barnt sniffled and said nothing more, yielding peacefully to Rajam's wingbinds.

Druag and Rajam waited until the others showed up to take Barnt in before either of them said anything.

"Uh, you did a good job," Rajam ventured, in her nervous way.

Druag shook his head, hands on his cane. "No, Ms. Rajam, if I had done a better job we wouldn't have had to bring him in."

"Um," she said wringing her hands, "you shouldn't, like, you know, blame yourself for stuff like that, Druag. Like, you tried, and, um, I think you did a good job. I mean, like, you didn't have to try, but you did, and um, that was pretty cool of you."

Drug raised a brow at her: it was the most he'd heard her manage in one sitting. "Ms. Rajam," he said, smiling a little, "exaggeration doesn't suit you, you know."

"Um, but," she stamped her foot, "no, I mean it! You're always so sad all the time, Druag, I mean, like, you can't just cry about the past all the time! I mean, I don't really know you that well because you never talk about yourself, but whatever happened, no matter how bad it was, is like, it's over now. You need to move on."

And Druag was back in the cornerstore in Jubilee, staring at the bookshelf.

"I need to move on ...?" he muttered. He shook his head and heaved a heavy sigh. He let out a dry, humorless chuckle. "There's no getting out of this hole, now."

It will be your tomb.

He moved slowly over to where his cushion and lunchbox had been and picked them up, putting the cushion on the counter and picking out his cup from the box. He dumped the rest of its contents into the trash before leaving the box on the counter as well. He was moving mechanically, his inner monologue evidently just as spent from the walk down memory lane as Druag was, himself. His mind was quiet for now, and he hadn't really heard anything anyone had said for a while. He was only cleaning to be doing something.

He sighed again, not quite as heavily, and poured himself another glass of Castiel's black beverage, standing at the counter and staring dully into his cup as he took small, thoughtful sips.

He had a busy day of work ahead of him.

He had to cool his head and get back into a proper mood.

He took another small sip, and blinked distantly.

Junier · Jun 22, 2016

'You would like to see it again, my application?'

Here's the deets:
⇠ ㉒ ⇢
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Location: Forget-Me-Not; the project area.
__
Mentions:
Amaryllis, Spora
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Held Item(s): (To much) Food
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Status: Cursed! (+Atk, +Def, -Spd)
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⬈

+2 Favor

Rina the Chimecho ~ Forget Me Not

as of 7:20 AM:

-------There was a retort somewhere, laid beneath her personal repressions, but the Curse was not enough to bring it forth. Criticism was the teen-aged Chimecho's kryptonite. As Amaryllis chided her for her impulsiveness, she locked up. Her mouth clasped and her eyes seemed more lifeless and hollow than usual.

-------The moment the Florges extended her arm it was like she held a sort of control over Rina. The Chimecho hovered over the trolley, devoid of even the most subtle signs of movement; she turned into a marionette. When Amaryllis lowered her hand and turned her firm gaze elsewhere, the Chimecho fell, moving down past her plate and landing, finally, on the floor.

-------"Huhh." She sighed and looked up ruefully at her plate. She realized in her sorrowful state that she was already full. It was a daunting prospect to merely look at what she'd claimed. "Huhh."

-------Aside from contrition she suffered a deal of other emotions: sincere upset at Amaryllis' daring—and in-turn another longing for petroleum—, no regret at what she'd implied about Benicle, frustration at how that'd been taken thus far... Curse efficiently narrowed it to "sadness". Thus, a sullen Rina bobbed up again to partake in the reluctant challenge of finishing her breakfast.

-------"You decide among yourselves who should join me in helping Beautifly Spora here," Amaryllis said, amongst other things. Rug, beanbags, trash cans... Rina didn't care. She wanted nothing to do with Spora prettying either; she inwardly grimaced at the thought.

-------"I lo-ove Forget-Me-Nots," she sang again without enthusiasm and put through half of a boiled Chansey egg.

Greiger · Jun 25, 2016

Store prep!

Gabriel was actually quite impressed when Blair did her trick. His eyes widened as the flames not only seemingly transported her onto the countertop, but also did the same to his boss. It did seem that her trick vastly impressed Castiel, and to be honest, Gabriel couldn't help but feel a tad jealous at the display. Here was someone working for a magic shop that could replicate magical like abilities, yet he couldn't. Which meant that Blair would surely rise up high in the ranks

while he would remain below her. His hands curled up just a bit at the thought. No, he could get past her. Sure he wasn't a magician or near close to understanding how her illusion had worked, but he had something she clearly didn't. A dark type's intuition and experience on how to sneak about and get less savory tasks done. If the mission given earlier today was any indication, then it meant that Castiel was sure to look toward him in infiltrating other places or gathering dirt on the competition.

He could hear Errol clapping behind him with a few tail smacks, so Gabriel felt that he had to join along. He clapped his clawed hands half-heartedly, not wanting to stir up Blair's confidence too much now. The nice thing was that the show was enough to get Druag's eyes off of his back. Gabriel could feel his tensed form relaxing as he saw that the dragon was in some other world now. He must have been using everything in that pea sized brain to think about something else, and that was good news for Gabriel. The longer it took for anyone to shake him and get him back on track meant the more time that Gabriel didn't have to worry about the dragon moving about the store and confronting him in one of the aisles.

Castiel was already encouraging them to get ready for the next phase of the day. Gabriel didn't want to be close to Blair for now. Instead he picked up his box and set it upon the counter as Castiel instructed and put his cushion up as well, making sure to wipe it off with a wet wipe when he saw that some crumbs had spilled upon it. He glanced back at Errol and let out a sigh. No one had attended to him yet, so Gabriel made his way over and picked up the fish to put him in his bowel, "So, here we go, a flat surface where you cannot accidentally roll off." Gabriel stated.

The Weavile looked over at Druag, now a bit more concerned. That glazed look was in the dragon's eyes still, but they needed everyone in tip top shape before they opened. Knowing that he would regret it, Gabriel slowly made his way over and patted the dragon's back, "Hey, Druag, you okay there?" He asked. "You look a bit out of it. You aren't sick, are you?" Could dragons EVEN get sick?

Who's Kiyo? · Jun 25, 2016

" Do you ever try to sing, and then after hearing yourself, decide that you need to stop pretending to have talent? "

♢ Cicaro the Eleventh ♢
- Shiny Furret -- - Level 23
- Forget-Me-Not Employee (+1)

Today's Achievements

Would only eat a deity with kosher foods!

Created new Trending Topic: #NotAllFurrets

-------- " Came in and revealed themself to be a hot mess laced with racism. "

----------" I'm not sure who you're talking about, Cicaro, " his boss cooed, blushing somewhat. " I do not know any Weavile, let alone by that name. "
----------It was unclear to the Furret whether or not Amaryllis' recollection of Sebastian was damped by her current state of being. Obviously, the Fairy didn't indulge in foods that came with "additional affects" as often as Cicaro did; proving this in the fact that she had eaten far fewer eggs than him but somehow had less control over her faculties. But considering that the Weavile was the only employee with the ability to counter the lie about the vases, it was rather important to the ferret that tabs were kept on him. He went to pursue the thought further, but was interrupted by the piercing voice of a Chimecho wondering if the group was still playing Twenty Questions.
----------" What is your thoughts on the workers you yourself have hired? Because I do think personally that, in my opinion, we have a little bit too many bugs! "
----------" Holy Arceus on a slice of rye bread, " the Furret blurted out in astonishment. His eyes darted instantly to the two bugs in the room, wondering if one of them was going to rip into the wind chime during the moment of silence that followed. He felt relieved when Amaryllis broke the tension, allowing him to settle into a condescending look as she gave the Psychic a verbal slap on the wrist.

- Would only eat a deity with kosher foods!

----------This wasn't the first time a new employee came in and revealed themself to be a hot mess laced with racism. Spora's mere existence alone seemed to bring the crazy out of people, and the newbies were often sent packing after making one too many slights about the bug - or worse, about a customer - in Amaryllis' presence. The Furret couldn't help chuckling as each one of them left; granted, Spora frightened the hell out of him the first time he laid eyes on her and still did every time she approached without warning - plus he did have some hesitant thoughts when it came to the whole zombie thing - but he, like any socially functional person, eventually placed these feelings aside and came to see that underneath her grotesque exterior was a normal, if not boring, personality. It seemed nonsensical to hate every creature of a certain type and not judge people on a case-by-case basis; even if one rubbed you the wrong way, there were countless others within that species that had radically temperaments and beliefs.
----------Both Rina and Samuel revealing their phobias at the same time posed a problem, especially on a holiday rush: when Amaryllis needed all the manpower she could call in and legions of diverse clientele were bound to show up. She couldn't really expect anyone given the day off to cover shifts halfway through the festival if she ended up having to fire either one of them. Cicaro chewed this thought with a bit of anxiety, as that scenario meant that he would have to cover double the work for the same amount of pay, but on the other hand … it allowed him to appear as the only one with a decent morality and work ethic, which wasn't a terrible light to be in when it came to promotions or Bonus Time. Getting noticed for not being a prejudiced ass seemed like a good deal.
----------It was perhaps keeping up this impression of himself that made Cicaro pompously state " I've got you, Spora, " when Amaryllis listed off a series of duties that needed to be accomplished; the Furret opting to beautify the Parasect for her upcoming role in the store's gimmick. Not that his co-workers were in any position to be taking the role of dresser in the first place: what with Samuel looking like his mom dressed him, Billy not wearing any clothes at all, and Rina busying herself with singing remorsefully on the floor. As the Parasect grabbed the doorknob to the managerial office, the Furret trotted over and whispered to her. " Personally, I've started to get into that spore-ridden look you've got going on, " he said, " it's very disruptive, and I think there's a lot of power in that. "

- Created new Trending Topic: #NotAllFurrets

----------Amaryllis' office wasn't at all like what Cicaro wanted to imagine: it was standard and pretty, and was not equipped with any fountains of sparkling water or ivory thrones made out of the bones of orphaned children. The Furret sighed in disappointment and then placed his index fingers on his lower lip as he took a second to gaze intensely at the mountainous expanse Spora called a back. He bit back his instincts to begin painting obscenities and crude misrepresentations of famous Dadaist pieces on her mushroom, and pushed himself to think of ideas that would improve her appearance rather than satisfy his need to make everything look like trash.
----------" Mom, " he called out in the midst of a notion, " do you have any earthy-toned mesh shawls? I think making Lady Luck over here exude peace-and-love sensibilities would make her seem credible to our customers, and draping a nice blanket or … something like that would be a good place to start. "

Foxrally · Jun 26, 2016

Status: Prospectively Useful

Click here to view Errol's application!

Held Item: None

Errol the Qwilfish

Errol was startled by Gabriel picking him up and placing him in his bowl, but was grateful nonetheless. "O-oh, thank you..."

Up on his little 'perch' there was nothing much else to do until the store opened. He could return to reading books, though this would mean he would have to start a completely new one - as Druag had completely rearranged their order when he had picked them off the ground earlier. He couldn't clean or decorate, either - besides, others were probably taking care of that. Taking out the trash or reorganizing the shelves could be possible, but it would take longer than just half an hour to do both. Errol sat there pensively, floating around in his bowl and hydrating himself as much as possible.

I could maybe.... But I shouldn't push my luck... Nobody else has gone forward... And I have nothing to do... But maybe he didn't mean me as well...? he debated with himself. I'm sure mister Castiel could find somebody else better than I am, but... I have to try, at least! he thought.

"I-I'd like to help with prepping up the fortune teller!" Errol stuttered, puffing up slightly to attract Castiel's attention. "Unless you've got another job for me to, of course." he said, purposely avoiding looking at Blair in fear of her reaction.

Jauntier · Jun 27, 2016

Spirited Away
7:25 AM | Manager's Office

"Not at all," the Ghost called to Errol, disappearing into the darkness of his the Office. He spoke with a mystic, enticing quality to his voice. "Do come in..."

When his two subjects finally entered the room, the door behind them shut. Levitating in the middle of the room was the softly illuminated outline of the Mismagius' silhouette, light streaming through only a single window on the back wall, though it was not purely golden as the sun was rising opposite the face of the wall.

"Welcome," he began, "to my Office!"

At the introduction, the room instantly flooded with artificial light, revealing an abode that so few were permitted to see. On the floor was a warmly-colored tapestry, an ornate rug whose design was a detailed and antiquated-looking cartography of a region of the world, not readily discernible by its shape or the foreign language that labeled it. On the right wall hanged raveled scrolls that looked glossy from the poster paper upon which were likely printed secrets, a hanging shelved collection of decorative sheaths whose blades went missing, and beneath them was a low bookshelf that held various jars of different shapes and sizes, some visibly showing odd contents through the glass and others made of opaque materials. On the left wall was a tall bookcase, this time stacked with actual books, although these were not like those for sale out on the store floor, appearing to have a collector's value to have been stowed away like this in the Mismagius' office. In the corners of the room was clutter: a tall mirror panel leaned up against the wall as just-as-tall, thin, wood-carved tribal masks propped up beside it, in another corner were ornate vases filled with various things like busted umbrellas, smelling salts, and unknown things wrapped in brown paper. Looking up toward the ceiling was an array of white paper strips, strange script written on them in black and purple ink as they hanged by red threads taped to the paneling. In the middle of the concentric arrangement of the Spell Tags was a single hanging electric lamp, which was turned on and had a shape reminiscent of a certain lantern-like creature.

The Mismagius moved out of the way to reveal what it was he was blocking. The back wall had a wooden office desk, and on it sat many short and messy stacks of paper, a couple binders and books opened to pages that appeared to be important records of some kind, various office supplies, and a typewriter. The desk had its own drawers, no doubt full of even more miscellaneous things, but they apparently held things of value, as some of them were padlocked.

To the side of the desk was a rolling stool. It looked discarded, as what Ghost would have any use to sit when one could levitate, but it was there beside a file cabinet and some taped up cardboard boxes.

All in all, the Manager's Office was, among other things, not large at all.

"Now, take a seat," he told the Braixen, floating near the single stool as direction. "And Errol, I suppose a position on the floor will give you a sort of fresh, new perspective on things I'll probably glean over concerning fashion--Not to say I'm not any good at it, as you can plainly see how well I 'rock' this cloak, as they say." He had a particularly proud expression on his face, reveling in himself before continuing, now eyeing Blair. "These cardboard boxes beside me have some materials in here that are sure to make you up to fit our stand. Question is, what kind of look do you want to go for? We'll start from there."

__________________________________________

Forget-Me-Not
7:25 AM | Manager's Office

With a big, gruff, almost man-ish heave, the floral lady set down her cargo in the corner of her well-lit Office. Smacking her hands together as if she had dirtied them with the hard work of moving a box of decorations fifteen feet between two points, she straightened her back as best as a Florges spine could manage, and looked around her private space.

The floor of the office had mosaic tiling in the motif of a recognizable and historic emblem of Kalosian royalty, a callback to where the first of her species were originally discovered. Up against the right wall was a tall white cupboard with floret trim, one half of the split door open to reveal many loose materials and equipment for painting and sculpting shelved, among which was also a certain Chimecho's gifted scrapbooking basket. On either side of the cupboard were potted plants of odd shape, identical to the ones that comprised Amaryllis of her vegetative mane. In fact, to the left of the room upon a low bookcase with a more modern construction sat two mannequin heads, one with a literal hedge sculpted into the shape of a helmet-like bob cut and bun, and the other was a vibrant working floral arrangement of those odd flowers. On the other two levels of the bookshelf were glass bowls of small accessories, spools of different threads, and a few human magazines that outlived the decade of their fashions. Beside the bookshelf was a tall vase which held a lacy parasol and some other rod-like things, as well as a side table which had several parcel boxes taped up on top, underneath, and around it.

Amaryllis directed Cicaro to thoe boxes. "I think I have some scarves in one of those boxes, Chic, dear," she began. "Those boxes are all labeled with whatever should be inside of them. I don't have space in here to unpack them, but they're basically all of my back-up accessories that I can dress up in during work without having to run all the way back to the house for a costume change." She then motioned to the cupboard on the wall beside her. "Otherwise, I may have something in the lower drawers. A few textiles, maybe."

She then turned around to face the back wall. There was a window up top that shone bright, golden light which mixed with the artificial light that flooded from a gorgeous electric-powered crystal chandelier in the center of the otherwise barren ceiling. Below the window was her office desk, which was much more like a vanity, as while the top of the dresser was neatly ordered with account books, manila envelopes and files, and small mugs with standard office supplies, and though some of the other drawers were fastened shut with padlocks, she also had a giant mirror in the center staring back at her.

The Florges sat in her tall, upholstered, bergère-styled swivel chair and and stared into the mirror, resting her chin to her hands which linked together like a bridge, her little elbows on the varnished wood.

"Come on over, Spora," sang the Garden Pokemon with a smile, her eye staring at the insect that reflected in the mirror. "I've got a little foot rest under my desk as well, if you need a seat. We're going to give you the makeover that round, flaky little face has been screaming for~!"

Xtrashy · Jun 28, 2016

Well, she honestly had no idea what Cicaro was talking about with a spore ridden look. Did he mean mushroom? She did have a mushroom. This only really confused her because she didn't just throw spores about willy-nilly. Not to mention that was a rather hazardous thing to do, even if the only ones she bothered to throw around these days were ones that put people to sleep, though they did their job well. Not to mention somehow, by pretty much doing the least amount of things possible, said Furret was apparently seeing her in a new light, or at least he was stating that he actually tolerated her existence, which brings that total up to one. Or two, Amaryllis did hire her, so that probably means her boss tolerates her as well, which means the amount of people that hate her and are okay with her are fairly even, such an odd zen that is. Oh and they were already talking about how to dress her up, how wonderful.

Apparently the current consensus was to put some type of large blanket or shawl over her mushroom. Whatever, she didn't quite understand how draping piece of cloth like one would throw a rug over a stain on the floor would be helpful in making her look good, though she guessed it didn't have to be good, just appropriate. She got an uneasy feeling as her boss called her once more, shuffling over to Amaryllis and taking in the entire room. It wasn't exactly as frivolous as she thought it would be considering her boss's tastes. Though it was far from something humbling, something that might make her reconsider what she thought of Amaryllis. "No thanks, I can stand." she stated, the idea of relaxing when she was about to let her boss and coworker do whatever they wanted to really in terms of decoration, relaxed was the last thing she would be even if she tried.

She looked over in the mirror, seeing it reflecting everything opposite. It felt odd to see herself, as it wasn't something she could do normally, and she never made a point to actively look into mirrors nor gussy herself up in any manner. Funnily enough it reminded her of when she was a Paras, she always wore a little purple bow between the two smaller mushrooms she had back then, she wondered where that had gone to after all this time, probably sitting in a corner back at home, or perhaps it had been thrown out, maybe one of her siblings was wearing it now, who could tell really, perhaps she should think about getting a new one, always had an odd fascination with ribbons, just so wavy. Dumb to think she'd caught herself getting distracted by Rina of all things just because of her ribbon like tail, if it was a tail.

She wondered how long this would take, geeze she'd probably have to just stand still there for ages, no doubt anything either Cicaro or Amaryllis had to say would spark much conversation out of her, she worked here but her interests were far from the materialistic in nature, sometimes she regretted not applying at that other place her boss hates so much, wonder what it would be like to work there, wonder if they get paid more. What to think about to pass the time? Perhaps she should schedule some time to go see her family, it has been several years or so since she saw them last, all her younger siblings have probably evolved by now, perhaps she'd catch her dad there, he was always out traveling, doubt it though. Maybe next month of so, when the weather was less sunny and made for easier travel, at least on her anyway, hot days always irritating her skin. Huh, that reminds her. "If you're planing on using any make up, or anything with moisture in it, don't, won't end up well for anyone." she stated, her skin condition wouldn't allow for such things.

Ihsaan · Jun 28, 2016

Samuel the Bidoof

Mission: "Exterminators: Origins"

"Yeah … yeah, I … don't remember. Sorry, Sam."

The creature who called itself Chic said almost sadly. Samuel's heart was undergoing a vortex of emotions. Chic was his hero, his light, his guide. He shaped Samuel into what he is now, he taught Samuel that the world was a harsh place and that the bugs were the harshest ones in it. The only thing that could top his emotional distress is if he found out that Arceus, his Lord and Savior, could be captured by humans. So imagine his unadulterated joy and surprise when he heard those words; as sweet as honey, and yet, as shrill as glass against an Aggron's back.

"...I do think personally that, in my opinion, we have a little bit too many BUGS!" Rina said, her voice emanating through the room.

Samuel's heart beat in it's prison of bone, flesh and fur. A believer! Someone who understood the threat these vile insects pose to society. Or rather as Samuel thought; I KNEW IT!. Rina and Samuel had gotten off to a bad start, but perhaps there was still hope for bridging distances.

Samuel began brainstorming, Was there a way that Rina and him could team up against these vile creatures? He thought and thought and thought and thought. His head ached from all the sudden ideas he was having but he forced himself to keep going. Even as Amaryllis was escorting the beautiful Spora and the traitor Cicaro away, he still thought and thought and thought, until that is, he hit a gold mine.

"Eugene!" Samuel yelled, in an attempt to replicate a word he had heard a Rotom once use. Samuel grabbed the sullen Rina, who was doing nothing but talking to herself, and said;

"Rina! We have to take these bugs DOWN! And I know how to do it! Yup!"

[PKMN FULL] Cornered On The Market! [T](IC)

Fake Friends Forever (´･ω･`)

Where was your antennas again?

Branch into Psyche

Shy - Like really shy, super shy, like, extra shy.

[img]http://i.imgur.com/omi0jS3.gif[/img]

SILVER

Me but more fabulous

puking rainbows

Fake Friends Forever (´･ω･`)

Where was your antennas again?

Shy - Like really shy, super shy, like, extra shy.

Branch into Psyche

Fake Friends Forever (´･ω･`)

A mad mind... hehe

puking rainbows

[img]http://i.imgur.com/omi0jS3.gif[/img]

Where was your antennas again?

Shy - Like really shy, super shy, like, extra shy.

shinigami of the alfheim