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  #26    
Old April 29th, 2017 (8:05 AM). Edited May 13th, 2017 by Ihsaan.
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Ihsaan Ihsaan is offline
shinigami of the alfheim
     
    Join Date: Feb 2016
    Location: Abu Dhabi
    Gender: Male
    Posts: 109


    /**
    * BUN T
    * TIME: 7:10 PM
    * SEASONING: NULL
    * UTENSILS: NULL
    * CHARGE: UNLIMITED POWER
    * MISSION: "Find a device and/or the heirloom."
    * PREVIOUS POST
    * NEXT POST
    /**
    I GUESS I'M A BONAFIDE FILM STAR NOW.
    Bun T just wants to find the damn heirloom.

    YES, YES, IT ALL MAKES SENSE NOW. THIS WATER LEAKAGE WAS NOT AN ACCIDENT. IT WAS ALL ORCHESTRATED BY THE WILY AND RESOURCEFUL PRG. THEY WISH TO PLACE ME IN A COMPROMISING POSITION AND THEN THEY WILL COME AND SAVE ME. I SAY SAVE AS SARCASTICALLY AS POSSIBLE, FOR REFERENCE. WHY, I OUGHT TO GIVE THEM A PIECE OF MY-

    CLICK

    A bright light suddenly shone through the leaves of the plentiful berry orchards, casting a soft shadow of several leaves and breaking B.T’s train of thought. His initial annoyance turned into glee as he came face to face with his salvation. The once ordinary Aspear tree, appeared divine to the dizzy Rotom. It’s red leaves were highlighted by the bright constellation shapes of the now activated projector. If he had been fully charged, Bun would have been suspicious of the device suddenly turning on by itself. At that time, however, his mind was similar to a Pokemon suffering withdrawals from Vitamins - he just wanted, no needed more charge.

    His amorphous body slipped through the spaces between the leaves and into the projector. This was not the first time he inhabited this piece of machinery, in fact, he was the one that helped Carmine create those images. He beat himself a little up for not possessing it before it turned on-

    STUPID STUPID STUPID STUPID HOW COULD I FORGET STUPID STUPID STUPID STUPID-

    When inside a device not connected to a power source, a Rotom’s energy slowly drains. Possessing something that was connected to a large power source, on the other hand, had no such issues. It was also extremely exhilarating.

    LAUGH. YELL. LAUGH. YELL. HAPPY HAPPY.

    A red color slowly took over the metallic gray of the projector. The white light was soon replaced by a flickering bright blue and the constellation disappeared in favor for the much more intimidating visage of B.T.

    OH YES. THE ONE DOWNSIDE TO THIS MACHINE IS THAT I HAVE TO STARE INTO MY EYES. THIS MUST BE HOW PEOPLE FEEL WHEN THEY CONVERSE WITH ME. THIS WILL NOT DO I MUST FIND THAT ACCURSED HEIRLOOM

    He concentrated, and slowly the features of B.T’s face ebbed away leaving a bright blue square in its stead. He began to slowly increase the size of this square until it was just bright enough. Using this pseudo-searchlight he scanned the grassy terrain for the gleam of metal.

    I HOPE THIS DOESN’T TAKE TOO LONG. I WOULDN’T WANT TO MISS SERVICE.

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      #27    
    Old May 1st, 2017 (9:53 AM). Edited May 4th, 2017 by Afterglow Ampharos.
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    Afterglow Ampharos Afterglow Ampharos is offline
    Ampharos are the ultimate kid's bed. They have a built in nightlight and everything.
       
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      Garoto


      The Linoone made the shrewd decision not to correct Carmine on the menus’ purpose. He stayed quiet -- aside from a thank-you regarding the office supplies. It’s not that he imagined the bird wouldn’t approve of his use of them, he just didn’t want to be seen as wasting time and resources.

      Okay, perhaps he wouldn’t approve, Cadbury admitted to himself as he made tracks back toward the bar.

      Bringing Jean-Georges along with him, Cadbury slipped behind the bar and bent down to search under the counter. An upturned silky tail prompted the octopus to avert his gaze elsewhere. Moving aside a wastebasket of ancient receipts, Cadbury found his prize. A few staples later, the Linoone had fixed the blank menu sheets together into a new folding booklet. “Here we are. A blank slate of culinary choice.”

      Wait, who was he trying to impress? Jean-Georges wouldn’t understand his sonnets. After a brief shake of his head, Cadbury looked to the cephalopod again. “Where do you like to do your drawing, Jean-Georges?”

      He turned his head to follow the point of an extended tentacle. Near the doors to the kitchen, behind this very bar. “Very good.” Scooting over to the Artist’s Nook, Cadbury folded the blank menu to the front cover, and gave it an official title with his own personal penmanship.

      Jean-Georges’ Illustrated Menu

      Cadbury opened a normal menu to its first page, finding the first thing listed under the first heading: Appetizers. The first item was Charcuterie, which the butler knew to mean a platter of meats, served with bread, pickles, mustard, grapes… Well, it looked much fancier than it sounded, that’s for certain. He paged through the Specials menus to find a photograph of it, and located what he was looking for in Tuesday’s specials menu.

      Spoiler:


      Spreading the Special menu open on the countertop to that page, and spreading the blank menu open to its first page, Cadbury tapped a claw on the image of the meats platter, then moved his claw to tap the top-left section of the blank menu’s first page. “Draw~” he commanded with a smile and a sweeping arm gesture, unleashing the Octillery on the one task he could be most entrusted with.

      He helped the Octillery and his many tentacles get situated onto a stool, and soon Jean-Georges was bent over his work, pen in hand. Well, not “hand.”

      As the sketch took form, Cadbury prepared the next menu item falling just below Charcuterie. Arugula Salad with Prosciutto, Oyster, and Mushrooms. It took some leafing through to find that one’s photograph, stashed away in Saturday’s Specials.

      A burbling sound drew Cadbury’s attention back to the Octillery and his project. It was the badger’s pleasure to behold a wonderfully rendered sketch of the meats platter, the first entry in his own personalized menu. Cadbury praised him on a job well done, and showed him the next dish’s photograph, tapping a claw at the empty space below the Charcuterie sketch, and letting Jean-Georges set to work again.

      Spoiler:


      He made a point of not adding any further text besides the title. He planned exclusively around Jean-Georges’ weaknesses and only on his strong suit: if a customer wanted a dish, they could simply point to the drawing of it, something that the Octillery could understand and even relay in kind to the chef. Words would be entirely removed from the process of ordering.


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        #28    
      Old May 2nd, 2017 (7:43 PM). Edited May 5th, 2017 by Ech.
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      Ech Ech is offline
      You're just reading my posts for cringe, right?
         
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        Dinner For Two
        Ech and Kiyo

        Surströmming

        IV

        -----
        Vissi happened to spot a certain Typhlosion idling on the other end of the bar: the very sight aggravated her brewing troubles and caused her stomach to churn its contents. She withdrew her gaze as a futile endeavor to prevent an encounter, silently praying that the chef was too busy drowning in her own personal indulgences to give notice of her surroundings. Realizing this was a predicament, Vissi thought it was best to quietly return back to her duties. However, her efforts were sideswiped when that pesky skunk crept up behind her with an obnoxious greeting and camera poised as if it were a lethal weapon as opposed to a simple apparatus. Flustered, the Soloist Pokémon exchanged a grimace with a pint-sized grin.
        -----
        " What's all this bunkum you're spewing out your rank rear? Clearly you've mistaken me for someone else, " Vissi whispered, being punctilious about her volume as not to cause a scene, " and please get that blasted thing out of my face. "
        -----
        Before Vissi could stand to properly shoo away the stringer, she was assaulted by a blinding flash followed by the sound of a crunching snap. She flinched from the ambush, and while she was left staggered, Vissi could hear the skunk snickering out an enticing quip, " Ya know, if ya give me an ex-clu-sive on whoever ya got writin' letters to ya, I'll paint ya up all damsel-like. All good exposure, get that sympathy vote. "
        -----
        " Why, you--! Letters? Damsel? Me, a damsel? " she leaked out a scoff, taking that as a presumptuous slight.
        -----
        Once her vision returned, Vissi flew off her seat and lightly jostled this whiskered critter away with a wrathful leer. Vissi threw out a couple worried glances back at Lombardi for precaution before lowering herself to meet the Stunky on her level. " Now, listen to me, you vexatious little vixen! " she gritted her teeth as if trying to inhibit her ire, " I don’t know who you think I am, but if you’re going to continue harassing me like this in public, I’m going to-- "
        -----
        " Shush, shush, shush, " the Stunky wagged a paw disruptively at the seal, " listen baby, I ain't here to assassinate ya character. Ya seem like a sweetheart 'with a bad past' ... that's just ... alluring, that's news, hon! Ya could be a star. "
        -----
        " I'm just little ol' Vissi, " she instinctively corrected the reporter before slapping a fin over her snout. She realized her error and felt abashed over falling for this gambit, exposing her identity to this scribe who bared devilry through her growing grin. She took in a deep breath, inadvertently soaking in a whiff of the Poison-type's queer scent and sampling what was presumably her perfume. " Look, I'm just a waitress who really needs to get back to work before I get into trouble, " she adamantly assured, " so how about you stand aside, and hand over that camera? I don't appreciate strangers sharing pictures of me. "
        -----
        Vissi held out her fin as a plea, but the musky mammal slyly hid her instrument behind her to protect it from the seal's clutches. " Nah, toots, ain't that easy, " she tutted, taunting Vissi in her moment of defeat, " ya got goods to cough up. Just gimme a chaaaaance. "
        -----
        Vissi scowled at the skunk with her face flushed with visceral emotion. It was clear she was ensnared by this nosy journalist; retreat felt impossible. Her mind ran through numerous schemes that would allow her to conclude this unwanted interchange and pry that device out of those tiny paws. After expending a moment to regain composure, Vissi straightened her posture and returned the persistent Poison-type with a simper from above. " You know what? Fine, " she feigned a sheepish tone with a titter, " I feel I should reward you for your tenacity! After all, nobody here has given me any attention! " Vissi had vented her own underlying frustrations, feeling comfortable she was doing it under a charade.
        -----
        The skunk bit her lip anticipation. " Now ya speakin' my language! "
        -----
        " But-- ! " she interjected, " I would be far more comfortable if we fraternized elsewhere - somewhere private - perhaps the ladies' room? I don't want my prudish manager to think I'm openly shirking work to frolic with patrons. "
        -----
        " Cer-tain-ly, lady. I get it, the coy act and all. Let's hop to it! "
        -----
        Vissi cued the Stunky with a graceful flicker of her tail, and her beckoning padded with a seductive flair. She pivoted, slithering across the floor towards the lavatories, with her company eagerly scampering behind. Oddly, Vissi realized that this was the first time she felt confident and reassured for this night, despite her little scrape. But there was no need to make compromise for this paparazzo's sake; there was a plenitude of water in the washroom.

        Spoiler:

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          #29    
        Old May 3rd, 2017 (6:20 AM). Edited May 8th, 2017 by Who's Kiyo?.
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        Who's Kiyo? Who's Kiyo? is offline
        puking rainbows
        • Silver Tier
         
        Join Date: Jun 2011
        Location: Olivine City
        Age: 22
        Gender: Male
        Nature: Quirky
        Posts: 3,225

        -----
        While giving a squint into the splinter-infested texture of the structural planks, a lurking suspicion crawled into Bailey's mind as he noticed that the scratches imprinted on their surface looked as if they were caused by frantic, ferocious paws.

        -----
        "T'ey say fine art makes ye go blind," PJ jabbed, suddenly appearing next to the boy with a clipboard and pen, "I wonder if t'at applies when it's beat t'nobody's-business?" The Spinda gave a brief, low chuckle and scribbled down a starting price of eight-hundred-and-thirty dollars. "Set it down t'ere on t'stand, boyo."

        -----
        Once the presentation of the painting was taken care of, the janitor unclipped the sheet of paper he was writing on, placed it next to the piece, and gave the clipboard of similarly-formatted blank documents to the Ralts. "Mr. Ruffled-Feat'ers needs ye t'make starting prices and put one of t'ese here papers next t'ev'ry ol' t'ing. Walk around and be sure all t'baubles get at least one bid: t'gents and ladies write down higher and higher costs, and t'at's ... well, I'm sure ye know all t'is, yer a smart tyke. Just be yer cute little self and sell."

        -----
        PJ offered a warm smile. "Now, if yer all good, wee one; I should be off."

        -----
        Aureole almost couldn't help touching the new pair of insectile wings drawn on her face. She wasn't sure exactly what she felt: the look was expertly crafted and its colors paired beautifully with the pale white of her aging skin, but it was so ostentatious - so "out there" - that she wasn't absolutely sure if the design would net her envy or make her look foolish. There was a second of passionate hate for even letting herself get this stupidly insecure, for even coming to the Ball in the first place, until a wave of astonishment flooded her senses and eased her mind into a sea of simplicity. She looked at herself, and for the first time in a long time, she felt daring. Like she was having a real moment in time, and she existed somewhere besides her head.

        -----
        She nodded at the artist beside her. "This is marvelous," she commented, "truly impeccable, thank you. You've done far better than expected." The Shiinotic quickly snagged her clutch and dug into her cash. "Please accept this: those slobs out there wouldn't pay half as much for work twice as good, so consider this a contribution to you getting the hell out of here and doing something important with your life."

        -
        Obtained $ 20

        -----
        Just as Qui-Qui took a firm hold on the bill, a blinding white light encompassed her vision.

        -----
        The searchlight glinted off the metallic sheen of something buried between two unassuming vegetables. The object was easily identified as a pen - an odd item to find within a garden, in of itself - but its reveal came second in fame as the light had revealed something far more curious: a path of small, muddy footprints that haphazardly trekked through the orchard and towards a window of the restaurant before vanishing.

        -----
        Jean-Georges excitedly drew everything the Linoone pointed to, wrapped in intrigue over how effortlessly his companion deciphered the sheets and tomes. The language of the land-dwellers was so multi-faceted, so alien to the Octillery: lines of weird repetitive shapes corresponded to strings of sounds, which then connected to foods he'd seen come out of the kitchen. It was madness, and not the good kind. A certain warmth of appreciation filled the octopus' three hearts once he had finished sketching everything on the appetizers menu.

        -----
        Breaking pattern, he lifted a tentacle to stay the badger as he plucked the lid off a coffee can stashed under the bar with another and produced one of the green rectangles that his boss occasionally gave him. Jean-Georges knew this was some form of recompense between the unseaworthy, and finding no use for paper that he couldn't draw on, he slipped the bill into one of Cadbury's interior coat pockets.

        -
        Obtained $ 15

        -----
        A loud chorus of lip-smacks drifted towards the bar. "Mmm, mmm, ooo, what tasty wine I am no drinking. I am overjoy." The source, an acerbic Wurmple sitting slouched at a table with a dwindling plate of cheese and crackers, set his glass down and jostled his eyesight to-and-from all locations but the bar. "Surely, I am bless to be guest at such fine place."

        -----
        Vissi extended her politeness by opening the bathroom door for Claudette, but before the seal could enter herself, a sea of blinding white light burst forth in front of her. The skunk lowered her camera to take in a view of what she just captured: a dried-up, dolled-up granny and her equally gussied-up friend exchanging money. "What's this, friends?" the reporter chimed, "somethin' I shouldn't know about?"

        Spoiler:



        -
        The Guest List. Head to the (OOC) to interrogate our new subject, Jean-Georges!

        It is now 7:20 PM
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          #30    
        Old May 3rd, 2017 (12:00 PM). Edited May 19th, 2017 by Your Daily Vitamins.
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        Take in moderation.
           
          Join Date: Jan 2017
          Age: 22
          Gender: Female
          Nature: Lax
          Posts: 58

          D A I Q U I R I
          "Stank rode up in the bathroom"
          THE SALAZZLE


          MISSION: Bathroom Attendant || ICON: Bringin' home the Bacon || EARNED: $20
          ----
          The Salazzle's eyes widened as she gazed down at her first bit of green for the night. Unfortunately, those wide eyes made it that much easier to suck in that flash of white light right up into her pupils.

          ----
          "WHAT-" She whipped right around with a shout and polkadots in her eyes, come to find - who else but - Vissi the Primarina in the doorway - and the actual culprit, a pants-clad Stunky with a huge camera, slipping a cheeky quip. Daquiri quickly stuffed her tip into her pocket and then stormed over to the stringer, her hands on her hips as her tail trailed behind her with some restless twitches.

          ----
          "Uh-uh. Now I know you ain't got a camera up in the bathroom, pipsqueak. Ooh, oooh!" The lizard bobbed her head and worked her neck as she talked, eyes still wide, but now out of irritation as she beamed an incredulous look down her snout. "What you tryna take shots in here for? You better hitch it to some kinda seedy joint if you lookin' for that. Pokes in here tryna do two things and they keep that in the stalls. Now you gonna give me that camera before I take it. And if you wanna fight about it, I'll break it."

          ----
          She crossed her hands over her chest and looked back at Aureole, mumbling, "Pokes ain't got no decency," with a shake of her head before looking back over to Vissi.

          ----
          "And you," she started, addressing her elder co-worker with no special treatment, "What you tryna do, comin' in here with this stunt runt? It's the ladies room. Hello? No men allowed? I'm trippin', ya'll a hot mess. This some triflin' scandal."


          POST No. 6 || Previous - Next || DIRECTORY: 1 2 3 4 5

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            #31    
          Old May 4th, 2017 (2:06 PM). Edited May 7th, 2017 by Afterglow Ampharos.
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          Afterglow Ampharos Afterglow Ampharos is offline
          Ampharos are the ultimate kid's bed. They have a built in nightlight and everything.
             
            Join Date: Jul 2016
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            Age: 28
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            Nature: Careful
            Posts: 662

            Pure Class


            Jean-Georges was doing quite well with this new menu all his own, written in his own language. A proud smile crossed Cadbury’s face: proud of Jean-Georges’ excellent work, and proud that the two of them (mostly himself) had come up with a workaround as elegant and creative as this.

            Well, it was only “creative” because the octopus is such a good artist, but still.

            Cadbury moved on to the next section of the normal menu, now that Jean-Georges had mastered the appetizers. A discreet, sneaky tentacle slipped up inside his waiter’s jacket and deposited a prize, of which the badger remained none the wiser. Probably for the best that he didn’t notice. Especially given the shiver-inducing sensation a tentacle under one’s clothing would usually induce, if it had made contact with his fur.

            What he does notice is a nearby voice, projecting itself just a little too much to be truly speaking to itself. Badger ears perked up, and one of them swiveled toward the Wurmple just before Cadbury's neck followed suit.

            "Mmm, mmm, ooo, what tasty wine I am no drinking. I am overjoy. Surely, I am bless to be guest at such fine place."

            Cadbury’s ears tucked back, and his lips pulled back in a guilty frown. At a less leisurely pace, he opened several different Specials menus to the appropriate pages and directed Jean-Georges attention to a few different dishes of the Vegetarian variety, which would be the next section of the menu. He tapped the next blank spaces in the Illustrated Menu after flipping the page. “Keep drawing, Jean-Georges, I’ll be back soon.”

            With that, he slipped into the kitchen, asking the kitchen staff there for a few different dessert dishes -- nothing specific -- then moving to the wine rack. Luckily, seeing Jean-Georges’ sketch of Morimoto’s wine of choice had solidified it in his memory. He picked out the bottle of matching label, and coupled it on a tray with the desserts which the helpful kitchen staff had prepared. Thanking the group, he balanced the tray on his claws by its center, and stepped out into the Dining Room again. He’ll take this one for the trainee, especially since it’s an overdue order, and the cephalopod is still preparing his custom menu.

            “Very sorry for the wait, sir,” Cadbury said as he arrived at Morimoto’s table, lowering the tray. “I took the liberty of bringing you our richest dessert dishes.” Which he had not, these were just whatever could be whipped up quickly or was already prepared in the kitchen.

            “Here we have our Vanilla Bean Cheesecake,” he introduced, placing the first plate in front of Morimoto. “Our Skillet Brownie. Our Pumpkin Scone. And our Black Mousse Cake,” he continued, placing the four dishes in a diamond pattern in front of the Very Hungry Caterpillar. “And of course, another bottle of wine for the gentleman. Would you like me to pour you a glass, or leave the bottle here, sir?”


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              #32    
            Old May 5th, 2017 (3:17 PM). Edited May 30th, 2017 by Ech.
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            Ech Ech is offline
            You're just reading my posts for cringe, right?
               
              Join Date: May 2016
              Age: 97
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              Nature: Quiet
              Posts: 263


              Today's Special
              Meaty Mushroom

              V

              -----
              The seal trailed after the Stunky, throwing back a series of shrewd peeps to ensure no one was shadowing the pair; she was especially anxious over Lombardi, whose presence was likened to an Electrode that could explode at any moment. But for all her prudence, Vissi callously failed to consider the possibility of the lavatories already being peopled. Commotion erupted the moment Vissi closed the door behind her. Feeling languished at this point, she joined her pint-sized acquaintance in hopes of resolving her own predicament as quickly as possible so she can get back to work. Steadily, Vissi began to see the potential appeal of all the banal chaos locked within the Coat Check and actually regretted abandoning her work station in the first place.
              -----
              Upon entering, Vissi took notice of her fiery peer, Daiquiri, who stuffed away something of value into her coat. The seal was immediately curbed by a squabble ignited between Daiquiri and the other poisonous Pokémon. It was apparent her coworker was the aggressor in this rumpus but the stringer was the one who instigated this whole drama. Does this slattern have a propensity to steal pictures of others, Vissi wondered. She shared some empathy with the Salazzle's frustration, as the two of them had a common disdain for that camera. Vissi never anticipated she would relate to someone of such queer tastes in fashion, though she once recalled a passage that translated 'war makes strange bedfellows', and the current development may be reflecting some truth off that phrase. The wiles of having her scaled colleague break into a tussle in her efforts to annihilate the newshound's device was an propitious amusement.
              -----
              When the Toxic Lizard accosted Vissi with a demand for an explanation, her thoughts were rinsed by a jolt when this queerly dressed presumptuously accused the newshound as male. A man? She pondered for a moment, though her dubiety over this newly arose conundrum subsided after she realized there were more urgent matters to attend to.
              -----
              " Never mind that, we were just-- " she paused as her eyes caught a figure lurking behind the Salazzle, seemingly hushed in the background. Cringing at the sight of a shriveled up Shiiontic, she quavered, " W-what in thunderation happened to that lady's face?! " Her voice was mixed with both concern and curiosity. Vissi winced away from the wrinkly cap which induced shudders into her bones and instilled a terrifying urge for her to scratch them out from existence. She turned to the counter to reciprocate but then noticed a glass bowl filled with gems. There was also what looked like a piece of serviette, with a description and numbers sprawled onto it in blue.
              -----
              " What... what are these? " she inquired out of genuine interest rather than interrogation. She noted the money Daiquiri deposited into her garments and accidentally blurted out with a deadpan tone, " Did I just stumble into some sort of illicit extortion here? "

              Spoiler:

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                #33    
              Old May 5th, 2017 (4:10 PM).
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              Jauntier Jauntier is offline
              Where was your antennas again?
              • Silver Tier
               
              Join Date: Aug 2015
              Location: USA
              Gender: Male
              Nature: Serious
              Posts: 688
              BAILEY
              🐦 • 🐞 • 🐦 • 🐰 • 🐦 • 🐞 • 🐦
              Smile, and others will smile back.


              📌 III. Art
              The little Ralts gave one solid blink at PJ the Spinda, the Pokemon's teasing still a drawl through his head:

              "Fine art makes you go blind."

              Bailey concluded he had never heard that before, though he figured it was superstitious—and he was not a superstitious young 'mon. As he looked at the enumerable knicks and cuts layered over each other in various directions on the painting's wood frame, he wondered why. Why scratch at this frame for such a pretty painting? Upon his inspection the marks looked deep, and where cuts in the wood crossed, pieces threatened to fall out.

              It looks like someone was clawing this to break it as best they could. But why didn't they? Why attack the frame and not the painting?

              Why have I sunk to a place so low?

              A cold shiver trickled down his spine, a strange sense of invigoration yet again washing over him. He carefully set the painting on the stand PJ set aside for it before asking the tan bear, "I never heard that before, Mr. PJ! How can pretty art like this make you blind?" He gave out a warm smile as he stared intrigued into the the custodian's swirling eyes.

              "Hm, I t'ink it has something to do with not being able to see past yer imagination," the Spinda contemplated, "or the artist is blocking ye from seeing anything but their own view of the world?" The janitor thoughtfully sighed. "Rather pessimistic, t'at."

              "Don't be down, Mr. PJ! I think that's thoughtful critique!" Bailey nodded at that and stepped up to pluck the offered clipboard and pen from PJ's paws. "I'm going to go back down to Cold Storage and get a few more things for the silent auction. We'll make more profit and clear up more space down there for the stuff that's supposed to belong," he enthusiastically chirped. "I'll take it from here, Mr. PJ! Thanks for your help!"

              "A'course, lad!" PJ tussled the Ralts' hair affectionately before he stood back up from the kneel he had assumed - verbalizing the ache and age in his knees doing so - and gave an earnest smile before trotting off in that seemingly aimless way of his.

              Watching the Pokemon wander off, the neutral emotion near went with the panda as some other intangible feeling permeated the Ralts' horn. Bailey hugged the over-sized clipboard and its pen to his chest as his eyes quickly glanced back to the bar, at first thinking Vissi's strong emotion from before shifted now with the situation. As he soon saw though, Vissi was nowhere to be seen, and while Cadbury had just left with a platter of stock-prepared dessert and drink for another table, on the far end of the bar was Chef Lombardi. The Typhlosion sat, sipping a drink with a distant look on her face. The aura emitting from the bar was a strong one of anticipation, he figured from the idle head chef. He made mental note of this as he trotted his way over to the Coat Check.

              As he left the Dining Area and was about to cross the Foyer, he saw Carmine in the middle of cordially consorting with a few guests, standing taut behind the podium. Bailey wordlessly pardoned himself between parties as he reached the Coat Check, being sure that his clipboard covered up the bow tie that was comically large about his neck. He didn't want to be mistaken for the employee who was supposed to receive guest's coats, as company resorted to helping themselves while the Maitre D' intentionally kept himself busy.

              Standing on a cushioned bench beside the coat rack and reaching on his tippy toes, he stretched his palm into a little purple robe with a yellow, starry pattern. Taking a quick look around as a Kabutops in what he thought was an unfitting flowing dress paced by, he took the opportunity while no one else paid attention to him and picked the pocket, stuffing the little bauble into the wrap of his bow tie. Making sure it looked out of sight nestled in, he hopped off and looked once more over at Carmine, who had just finished his long-winded, obsequious welcome with a party of clientele.

              "Mr. Carmine," Bailey piped up as he scampered over to the Trumbeak before another wave of guests could come. He was quick with his words, trying to get out what he wanted to say without the captious bird interrupting with a dismissal—as Carmine was wont to do. "I'm about to start the auction, I thought to tell you! I also saw that no employee is at the Coat Check and the dinner service is slow. Did you tell Ms. Vissi and Chef Lombardi to take a break for drinks at the bar?" He kept a tone of inquisitive concern as his eyes glinted in the overhead light.
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                #34    
              Old May 7th, 2017 (11:23 AM).
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              Who's Kiyo? Who's Kiyo? is offline
              puking rainbows
              • Silver Tier
               
              Join Date: Jun 2011
              Location: Olivine City
              Age: 22
              Gender: Male
              Nature: Quirky
              Posts: 3,225
              -

              -----
              The attendant had failed to incite fear in Claudette. After all: this was not the first time someone had gotten up in her face and blurted out threats to her well-being. She would've chuckled had she no sense of self-preservation, so instead she opted for an incredulous grin as the girl ranted off about breaking her camera and other such nonsense. "Ya wouldn't be puttin' up so much fuss if y'all weren't doin' anythin' skeevy," she humbly replied.

              -----
              When the waiter turned her back to mumble indecencies, the Stunky slipped from her position to a spot next to the dolled-up Shiinotic and gave a thorough skimming of the vibrant colors and lines decorating the mushroom's face. "So what's with the get-up, doll?" she spat as her reptilian assailant shifted her aggression to her co-worker.

              -----
              Aureole had a sampling of Daiquiri's frustration, but found herself too old and tired to give the silent treatment or come up with her own barrage of insults. On the contrary, she was still riding on a wave of levity, so she smirked indignantly at the short, round skunk and adopted a tone of condescension. "It seems you've stumbled upon something worth your readers' time," she said, "I was just about to showcase this lovely design by our local artist over here."

              -----
              "Ooo," Claudette hummed, two-thirds intrigued by the lead and one-third disappointed that her initial presumptions of a niche elderly escort service were dispelled, "I like that - feel-good, ya know? - filler to detox on after a big front-page scoop."

              -----
              The Illuminating Pokémon's eyes lowered in muted disgust as she watched the reporter park her camera beside her in favor of taking down unintelligible notes on a notepad she withdrew from a pants pocket. "Yes ..." she droned, "celebrating innovation, glad to see that's finally getting off the back-burner."

              -----
              "W-what in thunderation happened to that lady's face?!" came a yelp of terror from the overgrown seal standing near the doorway. She gave a shudder of repulsion before suddenly pouncing on theories of illicit crystal sales, apparently content on not having her previous question answered. While Claudette perked up with enthusiastic curiosity to the claim, it became increasingly evident to Aureole that the Primarina was putting on a show for the paparazzo: the waiter definitely gave off a "wannabe" vibe with the dissonance between her staff attire and her glamorous features.

              -----
              The mushroom came to the decision that she wasn't needed to mediate the situation; after all, the Salazzle had proven she was completely capable of handling herself with that last outburst. She grabbed her clutch and threw her head back in purposeful pretentiousness as she strolled by the scene. "Carmine is like most upper-crust biddies; all about little shiny things," she mentioned, "I saw him set them out here. Frankly, twenty-five dollars is a bit steep for my blood, but I guess that's the price you pay for keeping up with the current palate of refined tastes." She stopped right next to Vissi and glanced up and down her figure. "Not that you would know such matters."

              -----
              With a quick, secret wink to Qui-Qui, Aureole re-entered the Ball to the sound of one of her book club members gasping in delight over her new look.

              -----
              "Pour glass, please," the Wurmple gently commanded, eerily calm. He intently watched the badger fill his flute full of freshly popped champagne and picked it up carefully with a couple of his sticky front legs to enjoy the refreshing, sweet tickle of his first sip.

              -----
              Unfortunately for his taste buds, the worm found it necessary to immediately sputter the liquid all over Cadbury in a hard spray to accentuate his displeasure. Before the Linoone could recover, Morimoto snatched the bottle from his grasp and tossed a crumpled-up bill into his face.

              -----
              "Now get hell out of sight," the designer muttered.

              -
              Obtained $ 5

              -----
              Bailey was lucky that his childish voice rang out clear against the low, deep ramblings of the adult clientele, else Carmine would all but forget about his existence: even now, the bird had to consciously remind himself to look down after a moment of confusion in regards to where he was being addressed from. He reflected, as he always did when Bailey appeared, how odd of a choice it was to hire someone barely out of infancy; but the Ralts had never showed anything other than attentiveness.

              -----
              The Trumbeak tutted with dubiety as he contemplated the psychic's words. "It is odd you say that about Ms. Vissi," he remarked, "I have been hearing the bangs and the booms from that room since I set her on it." Carmine, eager to attend to other matters now that there was a lull in receiving guests, mentally brushed aside the business. "Perhaps you just did not see her - there are many, many coats in there - I understand. And the chef is doing important work ... or so I have been told."

              -----
              He closed the ledger he was consulting and hopped off the stand. "Besides, they know better than to take the drinks from the bar, no?"

              -----
              "Mr. Carmine," Bailey started, his smile faltering for some semblance of concern. "I wouldn't lie to you or feel the need to 'tattle' on my co-workers! But I saw with my own two eyes Ms. Vissi and Chef Lombardi at the bar! I would say ask Mr. Cadbury, but he was very busy writing with Mr. Jean-Georges and serving a guest a whole platter of ready-prep desserts!" Bailey hurriedly followed with another line so as not to seem rambling. "I only say this so you know how everything's going right now! It's hard to keep tabs as Maitre D' when you're busy receiving all our fine guests!"

              -----
              His boss humphed in dry fascination. "That is curious, yes," the woodpecker said, partly speaking to himself. After silently coming to a conclusion in his mind, Carmine nodded to the Ralts. "Thank you for the information, Mr. Bailey. You may return to your duties now."

              -
              Carmine takes note of your excellent reporting abilities.
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                #35    
              Old May 7th, 2017 (3:56 PM). Edited May 19th, 2017 by Afterglow Ampharos.
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              Afterglow Ampharos Afterglow Ampharos is offline
              Ampharos are the ultimate kid's bed. They have a built in nightlight and everything.
                 
                Join Date: Jul 2016
                Location: trapped in Toby Fox's web of influence
                Age: 28
                Gender: Male
                Nature: Careful
                Posts: 662

                Something Happens!


                In a snap, the Linoone went from a small smile of watching a customer enjoy their drink, to an expression of shock, his arms pulling wide and his body jerking back from the projectile droplets. The cloud enveloped him nonetheless, each speck quick to cling to his fur or soak into his clothing.

                And as he stood there, arms wide and snout pointed down at his clothes, a crumpled note of currency bounced off his nose. Some form of insult under the guise of payment.

                But why? Cadbury knew the caterpillar was enjoying the wine. He enjoyed it enough to order a second drink of it. Was it an insult at his service?

                "Now get hell out of sight," the designer muttered, bringing Cadbury out of his state of disbelief. He shifted his stature back to how it had been previously, and cast a glance about the premises to check who had noticed churlish display. Just his luck -- Carmine was occupied in a conversation with the Ralts boy. He glanced toward the bar next. Surely the head chef had been a witness. Cadbury suspected someone like her would not be so quick to let off a customer with such conduct.

                A quick glance between the two was enough to communicate that she had indeed seen. It wasn’t Cadbury’s place to reprimand a customer for behaviour, but from previous interactions, he knew Lombardi not to be the type to let things go quietly. Perhaps he wouldn’t need to.

                It all happened in the span of just a moment. Then, the butler was back to his professional demeanour.

                “Of course.” He leaned in with something of a bow, his necktie hanging forward. As casually as he’d poured the wine, the Linoone wrung out his necktie with a twist of both paws, draining its liquid into Morimoto’s wine glass.

                “Enjoy your wine, sir.”



                He left the table and returned to the space behind the bar, a weary look in his eyes to match his slightly soggy appearance. “How are the drawings coming, Jean-Georges?” he asked, checking in on the artist. Barring any complications with the Illustrated Menu plan, Cadbury directed the octopus on which photographs to copy down in sketch form on the next section of the menu. “Draw those next, yes? I’m going to clean myself up. Excuse me.”

                With that, the badger beelined for the men’s restrooms, pushing open the door and moving to the sink and mirror on the furthest end of the room. After assessing the damage in his reflection, he began to strip out of his uniform, piece by piece. Even if it was only a three-article ensemble.

                His fur would need a good grooming as well, though he should be quick so he can return to his trainee.

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                  #36    
                Old May 13th, 2017 (8:48 AM). Edited June 5th, 2017 by Ihsaan.
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                Ihsaan Ihsaan is offline
                shinigami of the alfheim
                   
                  Join Date: Feb 2016
                  Location: Abu Dhabi
                  Gender: Male
                  Posts: 109


                  /**
                  * BUN T
                  * TIME: 7:20 PM
                  * SEASONING: OMINOUS
                  * UTENSILS: NULL
                  * CHARGE: 100% -> 50%
                  * MISSION: "Tell Carmine about the prints."
                  * PREVIOUS POST
                  * NEXT POST
                  /**
                  I HATE THEM BUT I GOTTA DO MY JOB.
                  Bun T just wants to save his customers.

                  The Plasma Pokemon almost overloaded the machine on identifying the glint as being the lawyer’s missing heirloom. Due to his excitement, the light grew considerably brighter, revealing something that cut through the moment of levity. Muddy footprints; it was bad that an unknown was trespassing the orchard but it was worse considering that the footprints lead inside the store.

                  “Oh no. This cannot be happening,” the Rotom spoke aloud.

                  Bun was alarmed at this development, as there was a good chance the prints could belong to a feral.

                  I’VE NEVER MET ONE OF THEM. I BELIEVE ONLY A FEW LIVE IN THE CITY. JASPER TOLD ME THEY WERE DEADLY. DAMN IT. I SHOULD HAVE NOTICED IT. THE GUESTS ARE ANNOYING AND ENTITLED BUT THEY DO NOT DESERVE TO BE HARMED. ALSO, MY FELLOW EMPLOYEES ARE UNAWARE OF THIS BEAST, A SUDDEN ASSAULT WOULD LEAVE THEM DEFENSELESS. I CAN’T LET THEM GET HURT. I WON’T-

                  He had to inform Carmine as fast as possible. If the beast was truly feral it would be of utmost importance to evacuate the building as fast as possible, lest anyone gets hurt. There were two paths available. The first one was the same route he had already traversed. It was longer and still wet. The second led directly into the store. It also provided a fast road to Carmine. However, it was not proper etiquette to use the door reserved for the customers.

                  THIS IS AN EMERGENCY. I DON’T THINK THE CUSTOMERS WOULD CARE TOO MUCH AS LONG AS THEY’RE SAFE AND THEIR FRILLS AREN’T DIRTY-

                  He began brainstorming. Which way would he use? He attempted to run through both scenarios before attempting either one of them when suddenly he felt a tug towards the store. Closing his eyes, he saw the familiar geometrical lines glowing a bright blue. They appeared from his projector body. These lines were the several connecting wires of ‘Finer Things’. B.T was able to visualize this as a benefit of being inside a device connected to the premises’ source of power. He was aware of this capability of his but had forgotten in the heat of the moment. Memories began flooding back-

                  ~1 Year Ago~

                  "Honey, even though you're one special Lil' Rotom, you're still not the first one I've met,"

                  The soft purr of the Alolan Meowth's voice filled the room. Bun stared blankly at Jasper's face.

                  "Aww, you don't have to give me that look. Look here, in my line of work you come across a LOT of misfits and freaks. Anyways darling, this guy really had it figured it out,"

                  Jasper stopped talking to take a sip of his Berry Juice while blinking slowly. His eyes always held a dreamy air and that day was no exception. He wore a dark suit as he had 'work' later that day.

                  "What do you mean by that, Jasper?"

                  The Meowth took another sip and set his crystal glass down.

                  "They had such a knowledge of the capabilities of a Rotom. They could even possess Electric Pokemon to an extent,"

                  The poor Rotom was dumbfounded. Brainwashing another sentient being was something he had no desire to do, let alone being able to. But, he was curious.

                  "Is it possible to learn this power?"

                  Jasper stopped and put his paw to his forehead. He closed his eyes as though he was in deep thought before opening one eye and letting out a laughing purr.

                  "Not from me, baby. Not from anywhere. I was just messing with ya',"

                  He chuckled for a bit longer before wiping the tears out of his eyes. B.T was not as amused. If only Jasper could hear his thoughts.

                  "I shall concede that that was a funny practical joke if only to get back to business. Were you fibbing about the existence of another one of my species as well?"

                  "Aww, B.T, why do you gotta be like that? But no, I did have a Rotom acquaintance,"

                  "If you did, I find it strange that in our several months of companionship you have never informed me of them,"

                  "Hey, babe, we all have our secrets. My reasoning is one of 'em. So, do you want to know about his trick or not?"

                  "Please do tell, Jasper,"

                  The trick of visualizing the various connections of a device and subsequently travelling through them was explained to B.T. He attempted it on Jasper's electric fireplace. It took him half a day before he had perfected the fast-travel method.

                  "Good job, Bun! Now, time for me to tell you my reasons.."


                  ~Present~

                  That moment of self-reflection did indeed reveal a path; he would travel through the circuitry of the restaurant. He'd be able to reach Carmine in a split second.

                  OH RIGHT. THE PEN. I CAN’T TAKE IT WHEN I’M INCORPOREAL. I GUESS THE ‘MADAM’ CAN WAIT. I WILL MENTALLY NOTE ITS POSITION. NOTED. NEXT TO CARROT NUMBER 7. NOW TO VISUALIZE MY PATH-

                  Although he had not strictly memorized the blueprints of the building, he had a very good idea of the electrical connections. It was especially surprising to him that this would be the second time he would use this form of transportation at ‘Finer Things’. Perhaps he would have preferred electrical travel if he could bring food as well. He identified the connection that would lead straight to Carmine’s position. Or at least the position he usually takes. If the Rotom does it right, he would end up right behind the Maitre D’ station. Slowly the blue line leading to the Trumbeak began glowing brighter and everything else dimmer. Soon a singular blue zig-zagging line shone brightly every time he closed his eyes.

                  I REALLY HOPE NOTHING BAD HAPPENS. OR AT LEAST LET THAT PRIMARINA BE THE ONLY ONE INJURED-

                  “No, everyone will be safe,”

                  By the time he was done with that sentence, B.T found himself levitating in front of his aged boss and….a child? No. It wasn’t any child. It was Bailey, another co-worker.

                  AGH. I HAVE TO PROTECT MYSELF NOW. THIS DAMN KID WOULD MAKE A FINE ADDITION TO THE PRG. I HOPE THEY RECRUIT THE INTRUSIVE BRAT AND GET HIM OUT OF HERE-

                  The malignant thoughts against the underaged Ralts helped Bun conjure up a thin mist of Ominous Wind around him. He began doing it when ‘Spook Troopers’ began following him. The protection was necessary then to prevent them from approaching him. He used it now to stop the talented Ralts from invading his mind palace. He was not too sure if Bailey even noticed or cared, however. They seemed to be in conversation and normally B.T would not have interrupted, but this was not a normal situation.

                  “Sir. Mr Carmine. I’m sorry if I interrupted you and Master Bailey but there appears to be a situation. I was out in the orchard, searching for a customer’s possession when I noticed muddy paw prints leading into the restaurant’s window. If I may be so bold, perhaps you could call for a temporary evacuation, sir?”

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                    #37    
                  Old May 16th, 2017 (8:15 PM). Edited May 17th, 2017 by Jauntier.
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                  Jauntier Jauntier is offline
                  Where was your antennas again?
                  • Silver Tier
                   
                  Join Date: Aug 2015
                  Location: USA
                  Gender: Male
                  Nature: Serious
                  Posts: 688
                  BAILEY
                  🐦 • 🐞 • 🐦 • 🐰 • 🐦 • 🐞 • 🐦
                  Smile, and others will smile back.


                  📌 IV. Alone
                  Delighted in his efforts and a dismissal with no hassle, the small Ralts said a quick thank you to the Maitre D' before—





                  !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!






                  As if there was an ear-piercing frequency that cut through his head, Bailey reflexively cowered from the sudden, instantaneous grip of melancholic erraticism that fell upon his horns. As he hunched over with his arms reaching over his head, his teary eyes frantically darted about to see what decided to plague him. Then with a bit of a jump, he heard the monotone of his co-worker, B.T., over his shoulder. Bailey stepped back, his eyes intensely set on the amorphous blob of plasma interrupting his conversation and his inerrant streak of sanity. The immediate area around the Ghost seemed to lose a sharpness in lines, but Bailey couldn't tell if it was merely his tears that were now collecting or in connection to the vibe that undoubtedly radiated like a wall from the Ghost. Bailey knew the Rotom had something to do with it, being in such close proximity to the hostile waves. He needed to get away before he slipped and forcibly removed the threat from his presence. He didn't want to cry.

                  Hastily, Bailey excused himself and trotted off. The further he walked, the more his head began to clear. The slog of negative emotions were no longer intrusive once he was a good few paces from the menace, but now an original bitterness began to brew. The Rotom was intentional, he figured. The Rotom had malice. The pervasive, underlying sense of disdain subjected upon him by that emotion-laden fog was powered by targeted thoughts, he was led to believe. Bailey made a note of the Ghost as he blinked away the film of unspilt tears, a note he felt was in kind to B.T.'s. He would deal with that nuisance later.

                  Now, he felt he could not afford to waste any time with his intentions. He needed to return with yet more valuable items from the Cold Storage to show for a delay in starting the silent auction, but he also had to appease the deep-seated desire that seemed to pick at the back of his brain whenever his thoughts turned idle. At this point, he had crossed Dining with no hassle and stayed clear of the fumes that wafted from under the Cigar Lounge door, and was now climbing down the stairs for the Cellar. With his grasp preoccupied with the clipboard and pen, he quickly prepped his mind to perform telekinesis just as he hopped off the last step. His horns aglow with a faint pink aura, a nearby oil lantern shared his aura, ignited itself in light and—as if offered by an invisible hand—lifted off the stand beside the bottom of the stairwell. It floated in front of Bailey to illuminate the way.

                  Using his psychic power to carry something as relatively light as an oil lamp hardly took concentration. He absentmindedly wielded it by using one figurative compartment of his mind. In another, he recalled a meticulous memory: how many paces and in which directions did it take to walk from this point to the door of Cold Storage. His wide eyes were always scanning what surrounded him, and he was quick to recall what he mentally noted as markers to help him through the maze of wine racks. As he briskly walked, Bailey was fully aware that he was looking for something he did not know. He only trusted that this newfound aspect of his intuition would guide him, as it awakened the second he gazed upon that painted likeness of The Wishmaker. Being the only other presence he could sense as he twisted around corners and observed wine labels, the atmosphere was clear of any being's emotion and instead filled with an inanimate, solipsistic ambiance.

                  It hadn't taken long before the youth passed the familiar steel-fortified door of the Cold Storage, a stimulating shiver trickling down his back from the emanating chill. Standing before it, he began to scribe yet again in his head new paces and positions of a tentative nature. He was going to explore the Cellar beyond this point, and find a path back to the door when he finished. Picking up his brisk step yet again, some minutes passed as he wove about before he caught a particular sound. It was once low in the background, but it had gradually grown. Playing it by ear, Bailey sought out the source until he approached a tall, open doorway. Echoed from within, sounds like roiling water, rattling metal, and short hisses of steam all lead Bailey to surmise that he had come across the Mechanics room.

                  This was a place he had never been in, and no restaurant lead would ever permit a lone child to explore, much less approach unsupervised. And yet, it didn't matter to the Ralts. Something about this unexplored territory beyond the doorway seemed eerily alluring. With caution, the smiling boy allowed his lamp to lead the way inside, thinking to himself if, quite possibly, this place could provide some relief to the whispers.
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                    #38    
                  Old May 19th, 2017 (1:37 PM). Edited May 31st, 2017 by Your Daily Vitamins.
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                  Your Daily Vitamins Your Daily Vitamins is offline
                  Take in moderation.
                     
                    Join Date: Jan 2017
                    Age: 22
                    Gender: Female
                    Nature: Lax
                    Posts: 58

                    D A I Q U I R I
                    "Get mixed"
                    THE SALAZZLE


                    MISSION: Bathroom Attendant || ICON: Bringin' home the Bacon || EARNED: $20
                    ----
                    As the lizard watched Aureole turn up the sass to not only cover for her beautician, but proudly flaunt her new outward reflection of her inner glamour, Daiquiri couldn’t help but snort a little puff of smoke through her nose. She had to admit, the way the Shiinotic gave Vissi a once-over was golden, and seeing the dumbfounded expression on the Primarina’s face afterwards forced the Salazzle to turn her back and hide a tight-lipped snicker. When she did, she saw Claudette jotting down notes in a corner. Her camera was sitting beside her with the strap dangling free.

                    ----
                    Like a whip lash, Daiquiri’s hand snatched the device.

                    ----
                    Like I was saying,” Daiquiri blurted, holding the camera high above her head as she loomed over the upright Stunky, “Since you didn’t give it to me like I asked, now I’m taking it. I said no pictures in the bathroom, and definitely not by no boys, like daddy never teach you right? I’m about to fix this film for ya, ya dig, creepazoid?”

                    ----
                    Claudette looked up at the thief with a deranged expression: a mixture somewhere in-between shock and desperation, eyes glazed over with the mental vomit she was previously trying to record on her pad. Blinking a few times to wipe away the alliterative titles and puns pouring out of her imagination, she indignantly pouted at the Salazzle. "Hey-hey, toots, that's personal property ya toyin' with," she said, taking a step towards the waiter - as if assured that her comparatively small stature could intimidate - "let's not turn this into somethin' it's not ... it's in ya best interest to hand it over."

                    ----
                    Uh-huh,” Daiquiri said with a cheeky look as she dug a nail into the back panel of the camera, effortlessly popping it off into her hand. The film within immediately blanched under the bright bathroom lights. “Nice bit you went for. Rattled ya cage, shuckster? That ‘personal property’ is in a bunch of, like, broke rules and whatnot, so cool it. I’m just gonna snip out them offending pictures and you can get it back and get out my bathroom.

                    ----
                    As she hooked a finger under the reel and drew it out from its spools, she gave a hard snort, a little bulge forming in her cheek as she looked ready to prime her lips. Just as she spat out a thick glob of Toxic phlegm at the film, Vissi let out a forced yelp and a gush of water struck the reptilian from a blind side. The mucus dissipated from the splash before it could land on the camera, but the Fire-type was also saturated in her natural weakness. The seal just gawked at her co-worker with an abashed look, her fins over her snout.

                    ----
                    The reporter, who had been frantically trying to hinder the destructive exploit by clawing at the Salazzle’s hands, was filled with both relief and frustration; as the distraction allowed her an opportunity to snatch the camera back, but yet caused further damage to her pictures. Daiquiri, however, just stood there. She didn’t say anything, she didn’t blink; she just let her coat lay sopping wet on her body and her wig sag on her head. There wasn’t anything to her expression, it was just blank. There was a few seconds of uncomfortable, tense silence.

                    ----
                    She suddenly took her wig off and started to wring it dry in her hands, staring now with widening, maddening eyes at Vissi. The seal passively exchanged glances with a bright blush. She was still as a statue, save for her fins fidgeting if trying to spark noise to kill the quietude within the lavatory.

                    ----
                    You,” Daiquiri started, her head cocked as smoke began to rise from her mouth, lacing every word with black acridity, “You dumb ugly sea heifer. I promised my dad I wasn’t gonna lose my job over a fight. And that fat flip flopper ass is makin’ it sooo hard to keep it, you just mopped up my real hair.” She put her deflated wig back on her head and took off her coat, wringing it in her hands as she stepped up toward the shocked Primarina - only to step past, hissing. “Get mixed.” The poisonous lizard made a loud hacking sound as she spat at her coworker’s tail.

                    ----
                    The Primarina wailed like a banshee as she felt an excruciating burn tear into her tail, leaving a clear sign of laceration. Writhing about uncontrollably, the soloist inadvertently retreated herself into an open stall and collided into the toilet inside. Even after conceding to the enclosed space, her tail continued to flail around violently.

                    ----
                    As Vissi’s shrieking echoed inside the lavatory, a torrential flow of water began to spout out from the sinks and toilets like geysers, flooding the room at an alarming rate. One facet shot out from its place at the head of a basin and struck the side of Claudette’s unsuspecting head, dropping her to the floor.

                    ----
                    “HOLY GUACA -”

                    ----
                    Daquiri didn’t even give herself time to finish her sentence before piling a shoulder right through the door, stumbling out drenched as water trailed into the dining room behind her, her wig slipping off her head and soaking up at her feet while she raised her dripping coat and shouted clear across the area:

                    ----
                    “THIS CRAZY PRIMARINA SOMESNATCH IS BUSTIN UP TOILETS TRYNA FLOOD THE HOUSE!”


                    POST No. 7 || Previous - Next || DIRECTORY: 1 2 3 4 5 6

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                      #39    
                    Old May 22nd, 2017 (9:44 AM). Edited May 22nd, 2017 by Who's Kiyo?.
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                    Who's Kiyo? Who's Kiyo? is offline
                    puking rainbows
                    • Silver Tier
                     
                    Join Date: Jun 2011
                    Location: Olivine City
                    Age: 22
                    Gender: Male
                    Nature: Quirky
                    Posts: 3,225

                    -----
                    The restroom walls ricocheted an - admittedly, flat - half-hummed tune into Cadbury's ears, the source being a familiar green-spotted Spinda appearing in the mirror behind him mopping up a fussy stain: "and t'wartime will pass, our aid will come at last, when t'pages are ours ta ... "

                    -----
                    "Ah, would ye look at t'at," he interrupted himself when he trailed a puddle collecting on the floor to the badger's fur, "oh boy, oh boy, oh boyo." PJ withdrew one of his cleaner, drier rags from a pocket on his coveralls and took no time in snatching up the Linoone's face to soak up some of the liquid. "Who turned ye int'a mess?" he said with nearly fatherly concern, "t'ey've got ye mucking up my good tiles, t'ey are."

                    -----
                    He noogied the towel into Cadbury's head. "Are ye alright?"
                    -
                    -

                    -----
                    A flash of bright, blue light shot out of the nearby payphone and seared Carmine's retinas just as he was about to leave for other matters. He thoughtlessly dropped his ledger on the floor as he shielded his eyes from further harm, intersecting B.T.'s following remarks with grunts of displeasure and pain. However, he immediately quieted his moaning and snapped to attention when the word "evacuation" came into play.

                    -----
                    "Your pay grade does not ask you to be bold, Mister B," he admonished the Rotom's general direction. As his vision cleared up into a few select spots of clarity, the bird noticed a thin shroud of ethereal fog surrounding the Plasma Pokemon and the hasty retreat of a distraught Bailey. "What is this, what are you doing?" the bird said, breaking up the ghostly haze with a disgusted flap of his wing, "you know better, get the battle nonsense out of my restaurant."

                    -----
                    Carmine took a deep breath as he claimed most of his sight back. "Alright, yes, now; calmly explain - "

                    -----
                    "What the bloody hell is this?"

                    -----
                    The Maître D' shut his beak, confused as to why this foreign voice had taken his own. His logic quickly informed him that the effect was actually Lombardi's booming rasp interrupting his thought, and directed his gaze to the Dining Room: where said Typhlosion stood before the open door of the Ladies' Room, looking on in furious horror at the scene within as a river of tap water threatened to consume her ankles. Sharing the sentiment from his own perspective, Carmine directed the Rotom to follow him as he swiped up his ledger and trotted over to the spectacle, half-heartedly assuring onlookers that everything was fine and to keep drinking their wine, please.

                    -----
                    The Trumbeak's mind flooded with frets concerning the costs of damages and the destruction of the original floors as he stepped into the makeshift grotto, venting these angers into impolite commands for his fire and electric-type employees to guard the door behind him and hold his book of reservations. Though, seeing an unconscious Claudette instantly stoned every molecule in his body into an emotionless heap of shock, and he rushed over to inspect her injuries as Lombardi dealt with the incensed Soloist in the stall.

                    -----
                    "Hey, listen - listen - listen," the chef cooed firmly, "don't get upset, don't worry." She grabbed the seal's fins and tried to look in her weeping eyes. "Calm down, listen to me."

                    -----
                    The space greeted the boy with hissing vapors and wheezing, mechanical coughs. It was a rough room, coated in grease and age, except for an odd spot of worn but sturdy color that rested against an unassuming corner. There laid a large quilted blanket before a small dresser holding up a television proudly displaying static, and several old-world personal affects that attributed the space to PJ; most prominently, a line-up of old paper boxes each labeled with his name, the word "VHS," and increasingly schlocky titles.

                    -----
                    A sudden, horrific scuttling noise coming from the exposed ventilation shaft above distracted from the scene, but quickly became an echo and disappeared. The memory of its scratchy timbre resonated deeply with one's sense of hearing.
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                      #40    
                    Old May 27th, 2017 (7:20 PM). Edited May 27th, 2017 by Afterglow Ampharos.
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                    Afterglow Ampharos Afterglow Ampharos is offline
                    Ampharos are the ultimate kid's bed. They have a built in nightlight and everything.
                       
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                      Washroom muzak


                      Cadbury turned with a start when someone approached from behind. His ears jumped up, and he made a point to cover his immodesty with his claws. The only things he’d removed were worn on the upper body, but the badger couldn’t help but feel more naked without them.

                      At least it was only his face that the janitor was interested in. Cadbury’s posture relaxed, and he gently thanked PJ for his assistance. At the very least, the spit-take had left more of a mist of droplets, rather than a soaking mess. Still, it was alcohol, so it was not something he’d want to allow to linger on his fur nor his clothing.

                      “The Wurmple gentleman in the Dining Room,” Cadbury answered, when asked for the perpetrator. “I’m not entirely sure what I did to set him off, but I served him his order -- correctly, of course -- and now I’m wearing the very wine I poured for him. After it was in his mouth.” Is it still called a mouth when dealing with caterpillar anatomy, Cadbury wondered to himself for a moment, reminded of the strange things on the front of Morimoto’s face that he hadn’t a term for.

                      “It was a refill, too, so the spit-take was not a matter of flavour.” The badger grimaced when the Spinda’s janitorial rag rubbed against his cranium and face in a gesture better suited for a locker room than a fine dining bistro. “Yes, I’ll be fine, thank you,” he assured PJ, removing himself from the scouring. It had gotten the job done, at the least.

                      “I haven’t the time to hold onto a sense of insult right now, anyhow. I’m training Jean-Georges, and must get back to supervising,” he said, having another look in the mirror. He frowned for a moment at the way his fur stood up after the rag-assisted noogie, and fetched the items from his wine-speckled coat's pocket, including his comb.

                      “As my work uniform is dirtied with wine, would it be acceptable if I changed into my other clothing, Mr. Clarke?” he asked, directed at PJ even if his eyes were focused on his fur and his comb in the reflection. “It’s a identical to this outfit, but in blue and red. It’s currently in the Coat Check.”

                      He cast his gaze to the Spinda's mirror image, to add an afterthought. “Ah, and if you had any way of cleaning my green uniform for me before the night’s end, I'd certainly be appreciative. I realize you’re busy as well, but no harm in asking, mmn?”

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                        #41    
                      Old May 30th, 2017 (9:56 AM). Edited June 18th, 2017 by Ech.
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                        Today's Special
                        Malic Acid

                        VI

                        -----
                        Amid her moment of hysteria, her tail struck against the Typhlosion's side, seemingly acting on its own accord as it identified Lombardi as a serious threat and vented all of Vissi's stress onto her. Though the impact was no more brutish than a graceful slap, the attack quickly grew into a persistent flurry that only amplified the Primarina's perturbation rather than relieve any of it. But upon realizing that her own appendage was assaulting one of her overseers - as in, someone she clearly should not antagonize under any circumstance - she drew any strength available to still herself. The best she could do was limit herself to quivers as her tail continued to singe with pain. She exchanged a nervous glance with her boss, whose countenance was obscured by some tears formulating in the pinniped's eyes; she blinked in an attempt to get rid of them and felt frustrated she was even crying to begin with.
                        -----
                        " I'm... I'm okay... " she muttered carefully, albeit with uncertainty. She grew too nervous to continue staring at the Typhlosion, especially when she was so close. The seal's eyes couldn't help but seek the safety of the floor, which she realized was completely flooded. Her face lit up as she shot the chef an abashed look. " WAIT, I DIDN'T MEAN TO!! DON'T WORRY, I EASILY CAN CLEAN THIS--!!"
                        -----
                        Just as Vissi's voice frantically rose in volume, the toilet behind her erupted and pumped out a geyser so strong, it managed to strike the ceiling. Out from the fountain came a few gems that showered across the ladies' room. After lasting for what felt like an eternity for Vissi, the jet of water gradually simmered down and finally faded from existence, allowing the toilet to flush itself in peace.
                        -----
                        Almost defiantly, she cringed away from the bedlam that occurred directly behind her and dared not to lay sight on the possible ruination, leaving that entirely to her own pessimistic imagination. All she could do was remain lifelessly still, listening to the drips of water falling from the ceiling. Vissi presented a sheepish smile for Lombardi as she began fantasizing the worst outcomes for this critical situation she stumbled into - admittedly, for no valid reason other than to procrastinate - and she developed this strange perversion to be completely incinerated by a wrathful conflagration. She eagerly awaited her fate.

                        Spoiler:

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                          #42    
                        Old May 31st, 2017 (11:23 PM). Edited June 19th, 2017 by Your Daily Vitamins.
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                        Take in moderation.
                           
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                          D A I Q U I R I
                          "Drama got 'em thirsty"
                          THE SALAZZLE


                          MISSION: Bathroom Attendant || ICON: Bringin' home the Bacon || EARNED: $20
                          ----
                          She had stepped aside as two thirds of the boss panel stormed into the bathroom from her shrill tip-off. Immediately considering the incident resolved as far as she was concerned, all shock and terror fell flat on her face as the gross feeling of toilet water flowed in between her long toes. She bent down and picked up her wig, wrung it out once more on the floor, and tossed her moist coat over her shoulder as she walked so nakedly over to the nearest vacant table, completely disregarding any nearby patrons coworkers for her own retreat.

                          ----
                          She took a seat, let out a great big sigh of acrid smoke, and slouched back into her chair. When can I stop being the bathroom babysitter. she thought. Like... I hate everyone right now? Like... how am I going to dry my hair? As she thought to herself, she leaned forward in her seat and pressed her forehead against the table, letting out an audible groan. This mess is nowheresville. I wish I was out with Quay and the boys, like tonight was supposed to be the best jam... Ugh. I hate that dumb fat white water blimp, trying to get one over me.. 'EXTORTION, IS THIS EXTORTION?' When you ain't tryna be subtle. I hope that Stunky got messed up too, he deserve it. Creep.

                          ----
                          Whatever. I need a smoke.

                          ----
                          Reaching up to the pocket on her coat and patting it, she found it was empty. Narrowing her eyes, Daiquiri pulled off her coat and felt around in the other pocket, finding only the familiar outline of her makeup compact instead.

                          ----
                          ... Did Queenie take my sticks? No wait, she gave them back before I fled her joint. Mn... Put 'em back in the locker...?

                          ----
                          With an sniff and a roll of her eyes, the irritated reptilian slumped out of her chair with her two articles of clothing draped over her arm. Her face was hard with an uninviting look as she briskly walked toward the Coat Check, entirely intending to pick up a pack of smokes so she could release some tension in the Lounge.


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                            #43    
                          Old June 1st, 2017 (9:10 PM).
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                          Jauntier Jauntier is offline
                          Where was your antennas again?
                          • Silver Tier
                           
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                          BAILEY
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                          📌 V. Vent
                          Bulging eyes latched onto the sight of the vent overhead, the structure just barely within the radius of the oil lantern's dim light. The scratching sound evoked the image of splintered balsam wood, and the echo of the whisper that hauntingly beckoned him. Despite that, the frontal lobe of his brain began to activate, as he switched from his attunement to the background's faint impressions of vaporous emotions and engaged in the immediate presence and solution-building for the foreground.

                          Whatever is up there in the vent may just be a pest, he thought to himself. Best to catch it before it makes a mess somewhere else in the building, or gets stuck and stink away.

                          No stranger to strange espionage, the Ralts envisioned the inside of a duct in his mind. After feeling a split second stretch of his physical body, he had Teleport himself into the very duct that was just overhead him a second ago. Forced into a crawling position upon warping himself there, he used his Psychic energy to free up his hands of his light source, letting it shine in front of him and illuminate the way through telekinesis. Bailey quickly and carefully crept his way through the vent, following the scratching sounds some distance ahead of him. The sound of his own knees and arms softly thumping against cold metal short of subtly preceded his arrival.
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                            #44    
                          Old June 5th, 2017 (12:21 PM). Edited July 3rd, 2017 by Ihsaan.
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                          Ihsaan Ihsaan is offline
                          shinigami of the alfheim
                             
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                            /**
                            * BUN T
                            * TIME: 7:20 PM
                            * SEASONING: NULL
                            * UTENSILS: NULL
                            * CHARGE: 50% -> 30%
                            * MISSION: "Tell CarmineLombardi about the prints."
                            * PREVIOUS POST
                            * NEXT POST
                            /**
                            I WONDER WHO IS MORE OF A WASTE OF SPACE MAL OR VISSI.
                            Bun T just wants to speak to the scary chef.

                            The Rotom stared blankly as the chaos unfolded before his glazed blue eyes. Still dazed by Carmine’s snubbing, he remained motionless in-front of the toilets, until finally coming to his senses. He began to observe his surroundings; Carmine seemed to be attending to the Skuntank reporter-

                            THAT CAMERA SEEMS ABSOLUTELY DELIGHTFUL. I SHOULD ENTER IT. NO. CONTROL YOURSELF-

                            And Chef Lombardi seemed to be comforting the awfully shrill D’Arte. The Primarina’s tail appeared to be... smoking?

                            IN EVERY OTHER CIRCUMSTANCE I WOULD HAVE APPROVED OF THAT SACK OF FLESH LEARNING HER PLACE. THIS NIGHT IS TOO IMPORTANT FOR SUCH AN OCCURRENCE. AND THE SCREAMING MAKE IT STOP. PLEASE-

                            He would have indulged more in the act of mentally trash-talking his co-workers, but, he had more important matters to attend to. The prints.

                            “Sir-” said the Ghost, edging towards the maitre’d before abruptly stopping.

                            B.T had already made the Trumbeak displeased with his defensive precautions.

                            WHICH I DO NOT REGRET. EVEN IF HE IS BUT A CHILD. NOT A BIT. AT ALL. EVEN THOUGH HE WAS WRITHING. NOPE. NUH UH-

                            So, he decided to instead inform his other co-worker, the Salazzle.

                            “Ahem, Daiquiri?” Bun cleared his throat and turned to his side.

                            He froze and inspected the empty space that the garish Pokemon once occupied.

                            SHE WAS RIGHT THERE. HOLY-

                            He needed to tell someone, anyone except Carmine. Frantically, he dashed over to Lombardi, who appeared to be weakly slapped by Vissi’s tail.

                            I REALLY DON’T WANT TO DO THIS-

                            “Miss Lombardi? I need your assistance in a very urgent matter. Of the utmost importance, may I add,”

                            Suddenly, one of the toilets exploded in a gush of water, flooding the bathroom floors. Some glistening objects fell out as well. A few sparks of electricity flew from the Rotom to the wet ground. No device had ever looked so appetizing to the Plasma Pokemon as that camera did to him at that moment.

                            THIS IS GREAT. NO REALLY. IT’S NOT LIKE I’M SLOWLY FADING AWAY OR ANYTHING-

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                              #45    
                            Old June 8th, 2017 (5:54 AM).
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                            puking rainbows
                            • Silver Tier
                             
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                            -----
                            As the Linoone meticulously pampered himself in the mirror, PJ silently crept up to the drooping mush of clothing he had disrobed and inspected the damage. Everything was more or less salvageable, though a spot of extra detergent might have to be called in to get rid of the sickly yellow glow from the collared shirt. Before Cadbury had even asked for assistance, the janitor was already throwing the ensemble over one of his arms and thinking about washer settings.

                            -----
                            "I can do better t'an t'at, boyo," he boasted, "ye can expect t'ese pups back wit'in t'next hour." He ran his fingers over the surface of the badger's tie to test for dampness before he picked it up. " ... Maybe a little over t'at if t'old girls are having a rough night wit t'eir parts and such. I keep telling t'at silly bird t'spend a penny, 'damn, take it out of me paycheck if ye have ta,' get me new twins; but no, 'ye cheeky little bear,' ye got tools, ye got time, 'haven't ye heard of being t'rifty?' I swear on me mot'er and her mot'er's grave, people treat t'eir dollars as if t'ey were teeth nowadays; can't get me new machines ... can't even get me t'nice soap!"

                            -----
                            The Spinda had managed to wring the green tie around the Linoone's neck and straighten it into a nice shape as he rambled. He looked upon his work through the mirror. "Aw, t'at's not too bad, ain't it? I t'ink ye could do wit just t'at honestly, it's very strapping. Ye shouldn't be afraid t'go simple, boyo." PJ gave a light pat onto the badger's back before making a motion to restore his mop into the supply closet. "Do what ye feel ye must, but I know our woodpecker friend is a stickler for t'at color scheme he likes so much."
                            -

                            -----
                            Lombardi held firm on her attempt to soothe the seal - easily enduring the pitiful force of her frenzied tail slaps - until a sudden gush of water triggered the Typhlosion's sense of self-preservation. She stumbled backwards, feeling a pit of dread and frustration develop in her throat as she was pelted with small shards of glass and fluid; which found an outlet in the response to a certain Rotom, who thought it was a great idea to take this moment to blather on about something completely unrelated.

                            -----
                            "Oh, shag me senseless; you helpless moron," she erupted at the ghost, her collar flaring up in a show of fire and steam, "take your half-ass problem and find an orifice you can shove it in." She turned back to Vissi as their relative return to calmness subdued the toilet geyser, but the chef mumbled out "bloody honestly, there are eyes on that stupid head of yours," to punctuate the sentiment.

                            -----
                            "And you, missy," she shifted towards the Soloist, perhaps with a tad more tact and empathy than what she used for the Rotom, "you need to calm down, right the hell now. We're better than that here." The Volcano Pokemon shifted uncomfortably as a soup of dirt and water lapped at her feet. "Tell me what happened," she continued.

                            -----
                            "Yes," another voice chirped, tinged with suspicion. The chef looked back to find Carmine behind her, his posture still and calculating, narrowing his eyes at the singer. "That would be a good place to start."

                            -----
                            As the ruckus of the bathroom fiasco faded under the relative silence of the Coat Check and Daiquiri was left to rifle through the arbitrarily organized cubbies, she began to notice that her searching was underscored by the faint sound of whispering from somewhere among the field of clothing.

                            -----
                            A soft, chilling breeze prodded her neck and back; an unmistakable touch of the outside leaking through an open window.

                            -----
                            After continuing through the ventilation for what felt like a short while, Bailey came upon an odd, rough, steely protrusion above one of the grates. It was hard to identify what exactly it was, but the scratching sound had ceased short time before. Only a heavy breathing permeated through the shaft now.

                            Spoiler:



                            It is now 7:30 PM
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                              #46    
                            Old June 16th, 2017 (9:56 AM).
                            Afterglow Ampharos's Avatar
                            Afterglow Ampharos Afterglow Ampharos is offline
                            Ampharos are the ultimate kid's bed. They have a built in nightlight and everything.
                               
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                              Pure Class


                              The butler brightened to the news of such quick laundering. “Thank you very much, Mr. Clarke, I do so appreciate it. Much prompter than I’d expected!”

                              His ears fell slightly when the Spinda took his time to vent to Cadbury, who despite his preoccupation with grooming, was a sympathetic ear all the same. “I’m quite sorry to hear that, good sir. Hm. I may not be able to do much in the way of new machines, at least for now, but perhaps I could at least help with the caliber of your soap? There’s a crumpled-up five-dollar bill in the pocket of that green coat -- a bittersweet tip from the rude customer, topping off this spray of wine. Why don’t you keep it and use it toward some higher quality detergent?” Cadbury proposed. He could only hope the offer was perceived as generous rather than stingy.

                              “Consider it an investment, in the case that you’re not comfortable with gifts,” Cadbury said with a smile. “Better to pay a small price for good soap then a high price for new clothing.”

                              He considered the offer of the green necktie for just a moment, but he ended up passing it back into the Spinda’s paws. “I’m afraid not. It was wet enough with wine that I was able to wring a good amount of liquid from it, after all. Not clean enough to wear, by my standards.” He lifted an index claw. “Our Maître D’ may be a stickler for his colour coordination, but I’m sure even he would opt for a shade of blue over booze-soiled clothing or nudity.”

                              Cadbury glanced down at his furry form after that remark. “Which reminds me, I really ought to cover up before anyone else sees me. I’ll see you again before long, yes? Until then, Mr. Clarke,” he bid with a friendly lift of his paw, stepping to the exit and pushing its door open...

                              But just partially ajar. He poked his long snout out and turning it left and right, checking how clear the coast was. He’d been working here for quite some time and had never been unclothed on the job. He felt self-conscious about it. Still, he had his responsibility, as well as his nagging little worry, for Jean-Georges, so instead of making a Combeeline for the Coat Check, he made one for slipping behind the bar.

                              He let out a breath of relief, satisfied that likely no one had taken notice and that he was safely half-hidden behind the bar for now. Jean-Georges would see him, of course, but he was willing to make that exception.

                              As he was turning to the cephalopod, he did a small double-take, looking toward the west end of the Dining Room, where an overflow from the Ladies’ Room spilled over onto the floor, soaking the feet of his superiors standing there. “Well, seems I picked the right washroom to retreat to,” he remarked to himself. It looked to him like there were enough hands on deck to deal with that issue, so Cadbury turned back to his personal assignment.

                              But not before he made very brief, very disdainful eye contact with a certain worm.

                              “Jean-Georges, my lad, how are things coming? Sorry about my absence. Are you making good progress? Any questions, concerns? If everything is going fine, I’ll just be stepping out for a moment more to collect a spare outfit, but I have time for a question or two before I do. I want to make sure your special menu turns out splendid, after all.”

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                                #47    
                              Old June 18th, 2017 (3:21 PM). Edited June 18th, 2017 by Ech.
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                              Ech Ech is offline
                              You're just reading my posts for cringe, right?
                                 
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                                Today's Special
                                Rotten Apple

                                VII

                                -----
                                The pair of sharp eyes penetrated Vissi’s static state, tugging her out of a moment of trance and back into the sullied clutches of reality. Tension overrode agony, gradually calming Vissi’s flails by tightening her body even further. As the pinniped was far too fixated on her bosses who were pressuring her with their demanding patience, she wasn’t able to spare any of her attention to a co-worker as he abruptly loomed into the flooded room.
                                -----
                                " W-well… " Vissi brushed a few loose strands of hair hanging over her forehead, stalling her large fin over her eyes while conveniently walling her face from the two head figures. She struggled to articulate a single sentence and her hesitation translated into unintelligible murmurs. At first, it seemed sensible to put blame onto her scaled colleague. While Vissi’s intervention may had caused the flood, the entire travesty was instigated by Daiquiri, what with her apparent affinity for tactless conflict. But digging past that, Vissi came to the realization that all of this could have been averted had she stayed at the Coat Check - which was where she should be right now. And if she knew this, then she was convinced her bosses knew as well.
                                -----
                                " I… I may have made a minor mishap over a silly misunderstanding with Daiquiri. " She reluctantly confessed, attempting to spare her co-worker of any trouble. Or at the very least, she wanted to shift all the blame onto herself so she could rectify it on her own. The weight of it all crushed onto Vissi, immediately squeezing out desperation.
                                -----
                                " But! I assure you it won’t happen again! After all, it wasn’t a big deal. It’s not like Daiquiri and I partook in some sort of skirmish. I just… I suppose I acted a little callous about something, and one thing led to another. But I am positively confident that nothing was damaged here, as I’m clearly not that reckless. And I can most certainly clean everything up in a few moments. " She began giggling very nervously with a shaky smile. " This was just a minuscule set-back, and not something you should hold anyone to account for! I mean, nobody got hurt-- "
                                -----
                                Her attention was stolen from the sight of Claudette’s soaked body, resting dormant on the floor.
                                -----
                                Vissi became flustered, indignant even. All she wanted was a drink. While perhaps her priorities may have temporarily dipped into some form of procrastination, this retribution was absurdly cruel. Vissi had to convince herself that she would certainly returned to her menial task, as she always had. Even when the temptations to derail herself from work had grown stronger since she first started working, she was confident in her ability to remain productive. She had to be, as failure was never a choice she had to freedom to make and thus regret was never a feeling she had any rights to express.
                                -----
                                " ... please don’t fire me. " Vissi pleaded helplessly as she forced herself into the mercy of both of her bosses. The wound on her tail began to burn once more, causing it to anxiously flop about in the sullied puddle.

                                Spoiler:

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                                  #48    
                                Old June 18th, 2017 (6:23 PM). Edited June 19th, 2017 by Jauntier.
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                                Jauntier Jauntier is offline
                                Where was your antennas again?
                                • Silver Tier
                                 
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                                BAILEY
                                🐦 • 🐞 • 🐦 • 🐰 • 🐦 • 🐞 • 🐦
                                Smile, and others will smile back.


                                📌 VI. Eyes
                                It felt as if he had traveled far, though he kept his perception about him as he followed the scuttling sounds through the branching junctions of the vents. All the while, the over-sized clipboard and pen he was given stayed tucked under his arm as he crept. It was a trudge through darkness save his lantern, with corridors so narrow that nothing larger than himself and the width of his lamp could squeeze. And even then, he had to trudge through the invisible force that seemed to gush through every space he entered: a suffocating muck of foul emotion. The young boy's pursuit came nearly to an end, as the sounds just before him took a turn for the frantic, and then went dead silent. Approaching now with caution and easing his way forward with his lantern to meet whatever creature dwelled up ahead, Bailey began to feel the fluttering in his stomach in anticipation. He was so close to meeting this intruder, in a space where he would not have time to retreat without ensuring his complete safety if what was up ahead was insentient and dangerous.

                                He caught a glimpse of a glint. Swinging the floating lantern into an angle that did not block his sight and would catch the reflective surface of whatever was ahead, Bailey only found a grate in his path. But what the yellow light did not reflect so brightly on the slatted metal was the unmoving and organic silhouette of something behind it.

                                Now, I have you.

                                The boy exerted minimal effort as he extended his psychic power over the metal barrier. As screws twisted themselves out of place and fell to the floor by the small Ralts' will, so did the grate and the last bit of protection between he and the thing a few swings of a lantern away. The sound of the clattering grate made the silhouette--now obscured in the bright and diffuse glow of the lantern at the angle it still held itself--react vehemently. The sound of many somethings scampered and scrambled like nails, perhaps as legs, to keep ahold of its position. It seemed that it was actually dangling from ledge higher up in the venting system, although the Ralts could not see beyond his part of the shaft.

                                He took a deep, silent breath to ease his trembling heart as his expression remained even, and he yet again enveloped his psychic power over the creature. As he began to exert his telekinesis, he could sense that the weight of his target would be too great for his mind to exercise dominance over totally, and the mental strain forced him to rescind his influence to a manageable size. He caught sight of the shape of a thin, perhaps spindly leg, and a single crease stretched over his brow as he mentally latched onto it with worrying force. With his power, he gave one good tug to the creature, dragging it down to his level with an ungraceful landing before immediately releasing it. Having to haul with his mind what felt like thrice his body weight even such a short distance while balancing control over the lantern was almost painfully taxing. The few soft throbs to the side of his temple would quickly subside and not return so long as he kept his mind from racing and did not breach his limit again.

                                "What the hell," grunted a voice from across the Ralts, as glowing red eyes turned to leer at him through the vent's shadows and the light's obfuscating glow. The creature's timbre was as coarse and rough as their footsteps, and suddenly the swath of thick emotion so ambient to the boy began to feel jagged and broken. It forced a shiver down Bailey's spine and the boy swallowed hard, though he would not--maybe could not--show it in his bright eyes.

                                Instead, he effortlessly moved the lantern nearer to the creature in hopes of exposing their face, and said with an unbroken tone, "Address yourself."

                                The creature's eyes grew wide as the light drew closer, and Bailey caught the sight of a pair of pincers before they pulled wide and taut, all to suddenly snap in and crush the lantern. The pink lining that was once around the lamp vanished as the sudden attack astonished the boy so greatly, he lost concentration. All within a matter of seconds, a trail of oil spilled, there was a crash and a clang as it seemed another attack swiped at the falling lamp, and the sound of hurried scuttling echoed back over the shattered remains of glass and brass and a puddle of flame-licked oil.

                                In the dark, Bailey hurriedly tried to regain his composure after the scare and took control of the immediate situation in front of him. The only source of light now was the small fire before him, eating at the only contained source of fuel it had: a puddle of the flammable liquid. As if bending the elements to his will, the flaming oil lifted itself from the floor of the vent and began to circle the Ralts as if it were a make-shift Will-o-Wisp--a ring of flaming oil globules like spirits by his side. Undeterred and now unhindered, Bailey continued his crawl with an urgent gait.

                                "I won't use force if you stay and talk," Bailey called with a cracked voice during the chase, keen on following which directions the sounds of escape echoed. Eventually, he came to a light that cut up from the floor of the vent.

                                It escaped.

                                Peering over the sharply shredded up edge of the gaping hole, Bailey had to squint as he looked directly below into a well-lit room, where he could immediately see a tile floor and a row of sinks, a few stopped up and filled with water and a few dinner plates.

                                Finding himself above the Kitchen and still surrounded by immolated orbs that slowly orbited around him, he concentrated his mind power and as if they were all pebbles in a sling, they all shot themselves into one of the filled sinks and extinguished themselves.

                                With a quick Teleport, he found his feet on solid ground and his back deservedly straightened.

                                The little boy glanced around with wet eyes and a nervous little smile as he stood there, clutching his clipboard, shivering in the Kitchen knowing full well he couldn't be alone.
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                                  #49    
                                Old June 19th, 2017 (8:33 AM). Edited June 19th, 2017 by Your Daily Vitamins.
                                Your Daily Vitamins's Avatar
                                Your Daily Vitamins Your Daily Vitamins is offline
                                Take in moderation.
                                   
                                  Join Date: Jan 2017
                                  Age: 22
                                  Gender: Female
                                  Nature: Lax
                                  Posts: 58

                                  D A I Q U I R I
                                  "Somethin' somethin' don't smoke."
                                  THE SALAZZLE


                                  MISSION: Bathroom Attendant || ICON: Bringin' home the Bacon || EARNED: $20
                                  ----
                                  She had completely tuned out all other sounds and distractions until she found her pack of cigarettes, the yellowed box showing off the distinct logo of a Numel on the front. Breaking out of her hyperfocus as she shut the cubby, she heard something like whispers nearby, and then felt the draft.

                                  ----
                                  Who lettin’ all the hot air in here? Gee whiz, Daiquiri thought as she turned around to see the window across the room open. The naked Salazzle walked over and poked her head out from under the hiked windowpane, glaring suspiciously out at the shrubbery and firepit. Her tail thumped the ground impatiently as she grumbled, “Nobody come for me,” before pulling back in and slamming the window shut and locked. She crossed her arms with a huff as she was clearly starting to jones for a cig, glancing down at her long tapping lizard toes.

                                  ----
                                  She raised a drawn-on eyebrow when she saw dirty little mud tracks like footprints had dragged themselves in from the window and across the floor, straight into the coat racks. The faint sound of whispering she heard before couldn't have been the wind this time, as it grew clearer and more manic as she trudged her way over, looking unimpressed.

                                  ----
                                  Dipping her head in, she saw an unsuspecting Pokemon digging through pockets on coats. He didn’t appear to be stealing anything, but rather scanning over trinkets and wallets and dropping them to the floor. He popped the collar on his gabardine trench coat, and tilted his trilby forward to prevent anyone from properly seeing his face. It looked as though he had unusually pale gray skin, and for a second Daiquiri wondered if he kept himself out of the sun often with this getup. His sunken, wrinkling eyes looked almost like they were broadcasting television static, and his fingertips were monochrome and dirty with ink.

                                  ----
                                  The Pokemon reminded her of the bizarre Beheeyem in a way, a species she only knew of from a time she had peeked through the door of her father’s office one night and saw him dealing with it and another so-called client. This one didn’t quite look the same, but it had similar odd features. Maybe he was some form of related evolution, or maybe he was deformed and that’s why he hid under hideous stalker clothes and a discount tie.

                                  ----
                                  Daiquiri tapped his shoulder. “Ok so who pockets you pickin' cuz your coat right on ya back. And you trackin’ mud, lizza what are you DOING-uh?!”

                                  ----
                                  The grayish Beheeyem-like Pokemon freaked at the unexpected touch and dropped the fountain pen he was just inspecting. He wheeled around to face her and readied his hand as if wielding a psychic attack in his defense.

                                  ----
                                  "Hold up - miss? - hello - how are you - this is an official investigation - please state your name and address - this is standard procedure?" In his jolty speech, he tended to emphasize the wrong syllables of his words as if he had only ever crossed them on pages, but hardly heard them spoken.

                                  ----
                                  "Uhhhhh no,” Daiquiri cut in with a don’t-try-me look in her eyes. “I done duked with police ‘fore and y’all don’t lookit, so first I gotta see your badge, ok, tryna okie-doke me, and second my bosses didn't tell me nothin' about no 'vestigatin so I finna take you to my bosses - that is, of course, you don't want 'em knowing you snuck in through the window, Holmes."

                                  ----
                                  "No - bosses are not good - part of whole plot - they know - badge - badge? - badge for civilian." He takes out a police badge. It checks out as the right design, but something's... off about it. "I am detective - hush - there are big things happening."

                                  ----
                                  She narrows her eyes as she looks at the badge. "... You saying my bosses are a part of some big plot? How come I ain't cued in on it? Listen, P.I., I'm about to take you to a P.J., and we gonna chit chat."

                                  ----
                                  He looked at her funny. "P.J. - Peanut Butter and Jelly - feed me sandwich? - no thank you." Digging into his coat, he pulled out a card with a certain three-dot pattern on it. "Listen - they kill me if they see me - I pay you - good money - for information." He hands the incredulous-looking reptilian the card. "They are red - some - not all - but that is the game - they want you to think others are in on it - but this is me - get paper with this mark - it is me."

                                  ----
                                  She gave him a dead stare before she finally came to a conclusion. “You know what?” She reached in and plucked him up by the collar.

                                  ----
                                  "Oh dear - unplanned - hello," he said as he dangled.

                                  ----
                                  "I'm not tryna do a shakedown buuuut I might 'forget' to tell the brass if your little op can help me make some quick cha-ching, yeah, ya tinfoil creepoid?"

                                  ----
                                  "Yes - that is what I proposed - doing your civil duty - should not go unrewarded!"

                                  ----
                                  "... Huh. Ok, yeah, that’s hot, that’s hot. Then here's the deal, P.I." She pulled her head back out of the rack and glanced around to make sure no one else was nearby. The room was empty as far as she could tell. She popped her head back in and whispered, "You're sticking with me. I gotta keep an eye on you so nobody can squeal on you first. Trust me 'n' hold still."

                                  ----
                                  With her free other hand still holding her pack of cigs, she managed to grab at her shoulder and toss her damp jacket over him like a blanket, before suddenly wrapping her arms around the bundle and hoisting him up to her chest.

                                  ----
                                  "Oh - excellent strategy,” muffled the intruder, “We'll be able to get on the inside."

                                  ----
                                  "Mhm, yea boy,” she started as she took a few cautious steps back and out of the racks. “I just gotta... prepare first... 'Pardner'."

                                  ----
                                  As she glanced around once again to make sure she was in the clear, she bolted for the front door, intent on heading to the garden.


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                                    #50    
                                  Old July 3rd, 2017 (9:42 PM).
                                  Ihsaan's Avatar
                                  Ihsaan Ihsaan is offline
                                  shinigami of the alfheim
                                     
                                    Join Date: Feb 2016
                                    Location: Abu Dhabi
                                    Gender: Male
                                    Posts: 109


                                    /**
                                    * BUN T
                                    * TIME: 7:20 PM
                                    * SEASONING: NULL
                                    * UTENSILS: NULL
                                    * CHARGE: 30% -> 10%
                                    * MISSION: "Hope Lombardi doesn’t get angry again"
                                    * PREVIOUS POST
                                    * NEXT POST
                                    /**
                                    I JUST WANT TO HELP. I JUST WANT TO HELP. PLEASE LET ME HELP.
                                    Bun T just wants to help so please stop yelling at him.

                                    Sparks of electricity flew out of the Plasma Pokemon’s naked body. The reason for this was very simple.

                                    YOU PIECE OF SNORLAX DUNG. YOU ARE NOTHING. NOTHING. YOU SIT IN THE KITCHEN YELLING ORDERS BUT IN THE END YOU DO NOTHING. YOU ARE NOTHING. I HOPE YOU DIE AN EXTREMELY VIOLENT AND-

                                    Lombardi’s tirade had a very adverse effect on B.T’s health; his uncontained charge was leaking at a very fast rate. However, his mind was still focused on his objective. Putting aside his problems, he began speaking again-

                                    “Miss Lombardi, ple-”

                                    -before he was interrupted by the garish seal.

                                    DOES. SHE. EVER. SHUT. UP. MAYBE A GOOD ZAP WILL DO THE TRICK. WAIT. HER TAIL. IT’S SMOKING. WHY DOES SHE NOT HAVE MEDICAL ATTENTION. I DESPISE HER BUT SHE’S TERRIBLY INJURED. NO. THE PRINTS. THE PRINTS. THE PRINTS-

                                    Bun exited his chaotic train of thought a few moments after Vissi’s plea. His empathy for the Primarina’s grief enabled his rage to subside quite a bit. His charge, on the other hand, was still dangerously low. He would be forced to inhabit the nearest device in a few moments. But before that-

                                    “I’m sorry for the disturbance, Miss Lombardi, I truly am. But, please, understand. Mr. Carmine is occupied with our guest and I believe you are the only person of authority left,”

                                    PERSON OF AUTHORITY MY-

                                    The Rotom leaned in closer and lowered his volume,

                                    “There are muddy paw-prints leading into the store. I believe a feral Pokemon may have wandered in. Our guests may be in immediate danger. In my humble opinion, the best course of action is for you or Mr. Carmine to take care of this problem. I shall be able to provide medical assistance to Miss Vissi’s injured appendage. I apologize if I seemed presumptive in any way,”

                                    THAT HURT TO SAY. THAT HURT SO BAD. I HOPE YOU’RE GRATEFUL YOU PAINT COVERED HOARSE THROATED SLIMY PRIMARINA-

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