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Pokémon FULL Cornered On The Market! [T](IC) Page 4

Started by Jauntier February 17th, 2016 10:10 AM
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  • 192 replies

Who's Kiyo?

puking rainbows

Age 23
Male
Olivine City
Seen June 7th, 2019
Posted September 6th, 2018
3,221 posts
8.2 Years


" Triangles are pretty overrated, if you ask me. "
Cicaro the Eleventh
- Shiny Furret -- - Level 23
- Forget-Me-Not Employee (+0)

Today's Achievements
Created joint post with Greiger!
Single-handedly keeping ironic fashion culture alive!
Upheld some semblance of social standards!
Questioned if you can be tenured as a Useless Member of Society!
New Excuse Discovered: " I'm just paying my way through college. "
-------- " Sebastian had most certainly pinned him as … a graphic artist. "
----------Y-Yes, ” a nasally voice peeped, “ ... call me Mr. Wall.
----------Cicaro chuckled to himself. He imagined a doe-eyed Minccino shyly wringing its tail as it tried to echo his joke. The poor thing probably stowed itself away because it took one of Amaryllis’ cold asides too personally and needed a moment to dry tears with its tiny apron. Cicaro smiled warmly and waited, ready to give friendly advice and start indoctrinating them into his particular brand of cynicism.
----------A pair of spindly spider-like legs scampered out of the doorway instead, stopping Cicaro's heart in a moment of instinctual terror. He clutched his chest and turned away, quickly skimming through emotional phases until a memory threw itself into his mind: Oh. Right, she works here.
----------Hey, you, ” the monster said. Cicaro hesitantly dared another look, finding two cloudy orbs ogling his general direction underneath a mushroom the size of a mountain. As was customary, Cicaro had a quick thought about whether the identity of this woman - one Spora - belonged to the insect that was formally a Paras or the overgrown fungi growing on her back. Spora insisted that she and the mushroom shared a symbiotic relationship, but that’s exactly what a hulking eukaryotic organism possessing a corpse would say, so it was hard to tell.
----------Either way, whoever Spora was, they certainly didn’t leave a great impression on the Furret. She was definitely one of those forget-your-name types, and often couldn’t be bothered to step out of the drab world she perceived herself to be in. He found some of her idle mumblings humorous, but it wasn’t as if either intended on knowing anything deep about the other.
----------Good morning, Spora. I see you put on your best make-up today, ” he playfully chided, trying to re-establish his nerves. The Parasect began to speak, but Cicaro lost himself in marking the imperfections and growths along her exterior. Being snapped out of it by the inflection of a question mark, he looked her blankly in the face. He gleaned as much intent from it as he could, and with a click of his tongue, tried to give a neutral answer that made it seem like he was listening.
----------No, I wouldn’t know. I’d go ask Amaryllis; she’s over there somewhere, ” he said, pointing towards the front. As he shifted gears back to the project space, his eyes rolled over the sandy yellow spots on Spora's spore-ridden mushroom, infecting him with a sudden case of inspiration. His mind spontaneously conjured up an image of himself with crossed feet - an ability he surprisingly possessed despite lacking a tangible pair of legs - surrounded by smooth rocks and elegant pots filled with sand.
----------There it is, Christmas came, ” he mused, his body instantly animating. His natural affinity for speed revealed itself as his paws grabbed as many gawdy vases as he could and scuttled to the back door in what seemed like seconds; only interrupting his stride to grimace at Spora and comment “ Oh, and honey: I don’t know if that fur hat’s working for you. I love it. ” as he pulled the back door open with half a finger.

- Single-handedly keeping ironic fashion culture alive!

----------Cicaro - across his years and in all the past lives he has witnessed the world through - has never failed to make a spectacle of himself: and this moment, where his foot slipped on the small stone step down into the Zen garden, was no exception.
----------A less devised existence wouldn’t have found the cause to make him somehow gain height before plummeting to the earth; and while this scenario should’ve ended in a flourish of ceramic pieces, Cicaro's rendition found much more theatricality in the idea of each vase sticking gracefully within the grains like Olympian gymnasts. As the inanimate competitors bickered amongst themselves about who should take home the gold, Cicaro dug a haphazard imprint in the sand with the clumsy force of his own fall. He exchanged a lukewarm stare with the early morning sky, and slowly came to his senses with the reassurance that he could keep this moment of embarrassment to himself.
----------Gabriel perked up to the faint sound of a commotion nearby; an abrupt yet relieving distraction to the multitude of questions that swarmed his mind, their numbers only growing the longer he lingered on the colorful project in the store. The discovery starved him for substantial facts, and regardless, Castiel wouldn’t be satiated unless Gabriel brought back juicy details upon his return. He retraced his plot once more before investigating the noise: from what he could determine, there was a room near the back - perfect for eavesdropping - where he could easily hide and escape from. All he had to do was throw the switch to the circuit breaker and slink in when someone came out to inspect the power. Not perfect, but it was the best he had, in any case.
----------Moving away from the window, he craned his neck around the corner to see the same pink Furret from inside surrounded by a series of vases. His plan immediately disintegrated, but in the middle of cursing his misfortune under his breath, his gaze caught on the image of an open door. Maybe … I could still chance it? he thought. There was no darkness to shield his entrance, and it was arguably safer to wait until the Furret became preoccupied, but Gabriel had an opening now.
----------Focusing his vision, he sprinted as fast as his feet could carry him. However, the sand didn’t condone being stampeded on in such a manner, and created a gap on its surface that clutched said feet and tossed an airborne Gabriel towards his destination.
----------Cicaro sat up and pouted at the tiny, treacherous step. He took in a breath to queue up a sigh, but the air was punched out of him by the uncomfortable sensation of another person slamming into him from behind. Luckily, his scarf slid up to his face and protected it from the brunt of the fall. As the person rolled off of him with a “ Gah! ”, Cicaro used the remainder of the air in his lungs to let out a gruff huff.
----------While I appreciate the enthusiasm, ” he calmly criticized,
literally throwing yourself at me is just rude.

- Upheld some semblance of social standards!

----------He achingly stood up and began to take out items from his scarf to examine for damage: the first of which being his magnifying glass. He raised it up to his eye, and past the uncracked lens was the face of an eager and exhausted Weavile half-prepared to run off again.
----------What do we have here? ” the Furret asked, squinting.
Some urgent mission to pick flowers for the mistress?
----------Gabriel paused at the ferret’s words, confused as to why the man simply assumed a stranger lurking around the back alley of Forget-Me-Not worked there, before it dawned on him what time of year it was. Businesses all over Jubilee were hiring to cover the extra workload that came with the Festival; Gabriel himself being an example for Spirited Away. With the right amount of flair, he could pull together an authentic ruse to play into the presumption.
----------Heh, I’m a bit late to the party. Slept in and all. ” he said, offering a weak smile. “ My name's Sebastian. Sorry for hitting into you. I guess I didn't notice you until the last moment.
----------He crossed his arms and glanced back toward the building. “ I saw you were all working on some project in there? Guess I must have missed the memo earlier.
----------Literally same,Cicaro related, kneeling down and placing the magnifying glass gently beside him. “ ‘cept I was late because the old maid had me haul this festering sack of mulch twice my size across town. Just terrible,
----------Cicaro made sure to end on an inflection that suggested whimsy so this new guy understood that he wasn’t being completely disingenuous. He usually needed to go the extra mile for new faces, since his flavor of humor could yield “ what is that supposed to mean? ”s and “ how dare you say that about my mother ”s when it fell upon serious demeanors.
----------Gabriel smiled, liking the show the Furret was putting on. He could tell from the way this guy moved and played with his trinkets that he was just like the shiny men and women his father brought home at times during his childhood. As a kid he hadn’t understood why his father was friends with so many specially-colored Pokémon, or why he would only play with them upstairs, but now that Gabriel had grown up he knew of their purpose in life. He smiled down at the Furret, taking that this man was of the same lifestyle.
----------That’s quite the story ... lugging all that around? I’m sure I could’ve helped there, ” he gently teased, involuntarily letting out a soft laugh. “ As you can see, I’m not slender like most Weavile. I blame my father’s genes.
----------Soreness clung on Cicaro's muscles as he emptied his scarf, feeling caught halfway between listening to the Weavile and pulling off his ugly accessory to scour the surface for tears. He compromised by passively attending to both tasks, responding with a tangent idea unraveling in his head.
----------So, ’Sebastian,’ hm? ” he began, finding a particularly ostentatious tuft of yarn. “ I read a play once - an oldie the humans left behind in this huge library back home - had a ’Sebastian’ in it. Was the main girl’s brother, who she assumed died in a shipwreck. He wasn’t terribly important, but I always thought the name was interesting.
----------You know … you haven’t told me your name, ” Gabriel said, not able to pull back the impulse to wink. “ But I’m sure it’s more special than mine.
----------Cicaro lightly tasted his lips as if sampling the Weavile’s intentions. This Sebastian was being coquettish, and he couldn’t quite place whether it was mockery or not. He offered a raised eyebrow to the matter. “ My name is Chic, but if you’re into full names it’s Cicaro, ” he replied, “ It means … something pretty in some language.
----------He stood up and shook out the scarf out before fixing it back around his neck. “ I’ll clue you in on this idea I got going, ” he said, inviting his new friend to pick up a vase as he reclaimed all his valuables and hid them away in his collar. “ I’m not sure what Amaryllis wants out of this gimmick she’s trying to pull, but I’m thinking about filling up a few vases with sand … putting them about so people get this feeling of stability, or … calm?
----------Gabriel’s eyes glimmered at that. “ A calming place? We’re building a … what do you call it - meditative shrine?
----------It was if the Furret had hand-carved new puzzle pieces. Given that Forget-Me-Not was one big flower shop, Gabriel supposed it made sense. They wanted a place where their customers could relax. The Weavile had what he needed, but figured it wouldn't hurt to perhaps put in a few ideas of his own.
Well … if we fill some with dirt, we can make one area a garden of sorts. Get flowers in there, make it bloom with color and all.
----------Cicaro's enthusiasm waned when his guest completely derailed his idea. “ That wasn’t exactly what … I mean, this is all whatever anyway, just decoration, not like it matters if it ends up calming. Thought it’d be cool.
----------A period of silence came upon the two as they focused on pouring sand into the vases. Gabriel found no difficulty in the task whatsoever; with a grunt the Weavile hefted up his second completed vase, his muscles noticeably tensing and straining as he walked past Cicaro to the doorway and set it down before the Furret made it halfway through his first.

- Questioned if you can be tenured as a Useless Member of Society!

----------So …Gabriel chimed with curiosity, “ have you had any other jobs on the side? You know … those kinds of jobs?
----------Cicaro dedicated a moment to analyze himself. He took in the colors of his scarf and shaggy fur, noting how blatantly bohemian there were. And the deadpan, crusty look in his eyes due to minor sleep deprivation probably made him seem edgy or down with a case of early-onset jadedness. Sebastian had most certainly pinned him as … a graphic artist.
----------You could say I got a side job, ” he proffered, “ as you can imagine, I don’t have time to seriously practice during store hours, so I usually do all the hard work at my apartment.
----------It was taking all of Gabriel's focus to not drift off and think about what such a scene looked like. “ All the time, huh? ” he reflected before shaking off his imagination. “ Those shiny genes are pretty rare to come across. I mean, you must have had a lot of job offers over normal people.
----------Wish all employers had your mindset; ” the Furret had rubbed in bitterness over his tone, “ but that's a myth. Not to mention, when you’re of twenty-five siblings and have a brother with the same name that looks exactly like you, specialness doesn’t exist; shiny or no, no matter how good you are.
----------Cicaro hoisted up the vase he was filling and leaned upon it; the weight of the sand supporting him. He watched the Weavile furiously getting to work on another, so intent on his task and asking questions that he'd probably wouldn't notice Cicaro slacking off.
----------But I love my whole family, I guess; they didn’t do too-too much to screw up my psyche, ” he mused.
----------Gabriel’s smile fell a bit. “ Yeah, it’s good they didn’t do that, ” he mumbled.

- New Excuse Discovered!
" I'm just paying my way through college. "

----------Gabriel unconsciously nodded to himself. He ultimately had to make it back across the street, but needed some excuse that wouldn’t arose suspicion. “ Hey, how about you head inside and start setting this up? There’s something else Amaryllis needed me to check on, so I’ll just finish a few more and leave them by the door. How does that sound?
----------That’s oddly vague, but sure,Cicaro muttered sardonically. He counted the vases: Cicaro had a filled a grand total of one, and it appeared that the Weavile had handled three all by himself.
----------Gabriel grabbed his work and set it by the stone step, wiping some sweat from his forehead. He looked to the Furret as it bundled two vases into its arms and headed back into the store.
Hey, it was a pleasure to meet you.
----------Cicaro turned around and gave smirk laden with faux condescension. “ Don’t be gone too long, or I’ll assume you died in a shipwreck.
----------Gabriel watched him shut the door, and then quickly made his way to one of the walls that surrounded Forget-Me-Not and leaped up and over it, disappearing from sight.

hugh holland in "cracks: a sinnoh story"
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Pair
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Underground
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Roleplay Theatre
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Credits

Xtrashy

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

Female
On the planet Earth
Seen November 23rd, 2016
Posted October 17th, 2016
144 posts
3.5 Years
She sighed mentally as she clearly noticed the Furret's reaction. Why she decided to work in a place where literally everyone she worked with thought she was an abomination was beyond her. Regardless she entirely ignored his comment about makeup. How would she even put makeup on, she has claws, and no real facial features, though one time she had considered drawing pupils onto her eyes just to see how much it would freak everyone out, maybe another time though she thought as she looked to the front to see where Amaryllis was, she didn't see her boss. Wondering if it had simply been a ploy to get her to shove off, though further turning of her eyes showed the location of her employer, by the Chimecho. Regardless, she had her destination.

She thought she heard the Furret mention something about a hat as she scuttled off towards the direction of Amaryllis, intent of showing off the injured employee currently on top of her mushroom. Some festival day this was turning out to be. Someone's already hurt and nobody really seems to care at all. But, whatever, she just made her way over there, seeing that the two seemed to be having some kind of discussion or something. But, she didn't care. "Hey." she said, interrupting whatever they had been talking about. Not that she cared she was interrupting them, whatever it was probably wasn't important anyway, besides she was kind of tired of carrying the Bidoof, he wasn't heavy or anything, but he was aggravating her already delicate mushroom skin with that fur of his. The slight increase in temperature alone just from where Samuel lay upon her was enough to make her feel irritated.
"I see now that the circumstances of one's birth are irrelevant; it is what you do with the gift of life that determines who you are." - Mewtwo, Pokémon the First Movie.

Fen-kun

An RP Hermit

Male
San Antonio, TX, USA
Seen March 9th, 2018
Posted February 13th, 2018
276 posts
3.7 Years
As Blair went back to get the spray after having her hands full with the filled water bowl, she saw the boss come out with a cardboard box filled with what appeared to be tablecloths, based on the cloth that jutted out of the box.

"Good for you all. So, for table cloths, we have this nice cloth with all different muted shades of blue and purple, in the form of a traditional wave pattern. It catches the eye and it's not too overbearing, I don't think.” He continued, going over the choices of cloth and wallpaper, a blue cloth with star patterning, a blue and purple cloth with wavy patterns on it and a tasseled blue tablecloth. Not exactly the most opinionated on how decor, Blair shrugged and grumbled, “I don’ know. I guess the blue wavy one? I'm not the person to ask for decoration assistance. Magic on the other hand…” Already her eyes lit up, thinking about how she loved magic. In an uncharacteristically enthusiastic and upbeat voice she added, “I’d be perfect for the job! You remember, boss, right when I used to perform for the children down at the square? Please, let me sh-” Her thoughts were interrupted by Errol dropping the books on the floor. Annoyed she lost her thunder, she glared at the hapless Qwilfish but turned her attention to Silver when she asked her to help her set up the stand. Eager to get he stand up already to the point where she could fortune tell already, she replied, “Sure, I'll help ya.”

She moved from her position near the counter and walked over to where Silver was, rambling about suggestions of what to do with the table. Blair began to run by all of the things that she had gathered, when she heard Druag, the crippled Drudiggon shamble into the store. Not any more amicable towards him than any other employee, she merely sighed and gave a curt wave. It seemed that everyone was super on board with the star cloth, not that it really mattered to her. She shrugged and concurred with everyone else, “Eh, whatever, we can go with the star cloth.”

As for the suggestions for the crystalline aesthetic, Blair was digging that sort of vibe. It's a sort of mystic vibe that would work for the purposes of what they're going for, especially since she's tried that look for her own stand. “Well, I'm on board with this look. May I suggest some designs I had for my old stand? There's this whole thing about crystals enhancing the power and clarity of your readings, especially if the crystals are amethyst. Amethyst have quite the connection with the spirit world, you see. Also, I've always found that incense is a good way to help set up a good atmosphere. Calls upon the spirits and calms the fortune teller and client alike.” It was quite unlike her to be this compliant and helpful; it was really only because she was giddy at the thought of doing magic again. This was surely to the surprise of everyone, except for Silver, who had got her in a good mood talking about magic a couple of times.

But before she could even think about that, she would have to build some sort of small structure to complete the image. “Hmm, how about we stack some crates and drape cloth over it? That way, it'll be like a little tent almost except not as fancy shmancy as those rich fakers back home.”

Evyl

t r a g i c

Male
Junkertown
Seen April 17th, 2018
Posted December 1st, 2017
262 posts
5.5 Years
Varien the Kecleon

Mission: Escape the Shop!



Kecleon weren't known for their speed, rather on the other side of the coin they were known to be extremely slow. Running as fast as he could, Varien made for the door, still yet to be closed from the Dragon-type Pokemon that just entered. He didn't listen to anything; he didn't look at anything but the door. It started to close...

No! Not this way!! Varien forced his legs to move faster, focusing solely on moving with (what he considered to be) extreme speed. He made it to the door before it closed, slipping a hand between the door and the frame, not feeling pain from the weight of the door. His whole body felt heavy, but he couldn't stop now.

Varien didn't intend to, but as he opened the door a smidge so he could fit through, he saw Castiel floating towards him... Muk!! MUK!! Varien's skin changed from a cream white to a bright red - he wasn't aware of it but in his desperation he lost his invisible colouring.

Shadow Sneak!! Varien sunk into his shadow and zipped out the store, the move allowing him to bypass his slower speed. He wasn't in the clear yet, hesitating just outside the shop then scurrying towards Forget-Me-Not. He was able to catch his breath, and turned invisible, but he knew they would see his stripe. I can't go to Forget-Me-Not! I'll ruin everything and lose any reputation I gain from this!

Almost falling over in the process, Varien changed direction before he reached the halfway point across the street, going away from both stores to the north. I can't let them get me! He was short of breath, but he had one more trick up his sleeve. Whoever was behind him would be in for a surprise, as the Kecleon made for the sidewalk at least five shops down then turned to face any pursuiter, tongue at the ready.

Junier

Fake Friends Forever (´・ω・`)

Female
Seen August 3rd, 2018
Posted August 3rd, 2018
984 posts
4.2 Years

Rina the Chimecho ~ Forget-Me-Not

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

Here's the deets:

__
Location: Forget-Me-Not; the project corner
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Mentions: Amaryllis, Spora, Samuel, Goro
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Held Item: Pretty Lantern
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Status: Stricken, scared—REEEEEEEEE—and hopeless
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[ heading south again ]
-------The peppermint snuck up on her.

-------“Oh, Amaryllis!” Rina whipped around like a thrown-back drape, looking bright with alarm as she turned to face her employer. It was as if the Florges has tugged her ribbony ringer and triggered a sharp ding-a-ling! The lantern in Rina’s limbs fell limply and delicately to the ground at the very start of Amaryllis’ voice. There was nothing within it, no tone warm with respect, not even lightness out of surprise. This immediately displeased the Chimecho who had, in a far reach of her mind, convinced herself that such a zealous show would bring forth the best in her boss. Rina’s expectations withered and died at the gradual examination of Amaryllis. A posture that hinted at false phlegmatism, a static stare and a contradictive, plastered smile that looked just like one of her little cousin Rei’s plastic dolls. Rina felt her vigor gush from her in one fell movement. ”Ma’am.”

-------It looks like you cannot do anything right.

-------She was cold, stiff, more icicle than chime. Her mouth swam with bitterness as if she’d fallen face first, mouth open, into a Rawst berry bush. There were at least a hundred nasty, ill-bred words in Spirit-talk that would best fit Ms. Amaryllis in Rina’s mind, during that moment, but the words most candidly impactful were those of her boss. Specifically, there were two that left the Chimecho utterly floored and inwardly gasping for mercy: there was Goro and here… to… see… you.

-------Her initial reaction was ’Who does she mean, this ‘Goro’?’ but the mention struck a resounding chord. Suddenly, Rina was struck by a realization of startlingly violent proportions, so much so the Chimecho nearly crumpled to a dainty heap right then. Suddenly, there was Rei and Hugo, too, chittering wildly about the festivities to come. ”Snowcones are good and all but I really wanna see the parade! We should get up really, really early to see it!” “Yeah, but don’t get up too early, ‘cause the guards’ll be out and I heard one of them’s a big, mean ol’ Pangoro!”

-------The connection was thusly drawn. He’s back! Yes, the capped crusader! The behemeoth donned in white and black! The grandmaster Goro had reappeared in justice’s name, his only goal to seal the nail in that villain Rina’s coffin for seemingly no reason at all! ’What did I do or think have done? Why is the Goro ‘mon hating me? Why is Amaryllis hating me? Why is the world hating me!? Why is this day so horrible!? Why can I not go back to hanging the lanterns!? What is evil with the world and is it not even late morning!?’

-------Amaryllis was speaking in slow motion. “...you… two... didn't... finish... talking…” Her voice was a sharpened proboscis fixed in Rina’s side. “...let’s… remedy… that… go… over… there…” Every word was slowly draining her. “...and… apologize… She was sure to be left a hollow, horrified shell.

-------The grey and despairing poltergeist that was Rina could say nothing in response to Amaryllis’ urges. The Chimecho dared not glance past her boss’ ornate mane in case the nightmare’d prove itself true. She stood eerily still, eerily silent, making no effort to speak nor prove lively. The veal was gone.

-------The fear was far from diminished. Like the makings of a hasty horror film, the quiet scene of her and Amaryllis was interrupted by a rusky voice and the pop-up appearance of a familiar clawed, crawling coworker and her corresponding fungal growth. The zombie appeared from nowhere with an indistinguishable brown package draped atop its hunchback and Rina screamed.

-------“Eeee-yah!” It was an ear-scathing warble, shrill with uncontained fear, a thorough wash of sound with not a touch of bass to it. Even the Forget-Me-Not floor appeared thoroughly aggravated; the great scream was answered by a brief but all-encompassing shudder, grand enough to send a sloppily-hung lantern careening down to bonk the poor Chimecho on the cranium.

-------It was at this point that Rina recognized her self-contained apocalypse had arrived, that her life could more-or-less be considered over. With a final, heaving sigh, the chime sunk solidly and solidly to the floor, folding her tail beneath her.

Jauntier

Where was your antennas again?

Male
USA
Seen April 6th, 2018
Posted December 23rd, 2017
661 posts
4 Years



...
5 AM
6 AM
7 AM
...



Spirited Away
6:00 AM | Main Floor



As he had leisurely and unhurriedly drifted his way up toward the front of his store from behind the counter, Castiel quietly listened, looking back over what would be his shoulder to watch each employee speak for themselves. Blair had unearthed her history in street performing and magic shows, which sparked his interest. When Druag excused and pushed himself toward the Supply Room, Castiel watched a dour face with the looming shadow of self-doubt--more evident to the Ghost than the Dragon could have thought--turn away and move to claim a useful duty. The Mismagius then shifted his attention to Silver, who seemed to see the same thing in the older employee as he did, before the cogs in her brain started turning again and she re-railed herself back on the track of the project. The Dragon returned with a gem of a suggestion in a sulking delivery. All of which at that point he decided to address:

"Now, Blair and Druag," he presently began, eyes flitting from one to the other before he turned back around to face the front door, only a stride away. The door was but slightly ajar from Druag's inattentiveness to shut it when he entered late. As Castiel intended to continue his train of thought, he was interrupted by the plain and apparent sight of a pallid Kecleon.

It stared right back at him in the doorway. One foot in the store, the other poised to step out. Then it turned red and fled in the slip of its own shadow.

There was a delayed reaction in the Ghost, at first trying to process what he saw, as it was so egregiously out of place. But then when he finally came to terms with it in all the same second, he was awash with the volatile concoction of upset, urgency, and rage.

"INTRUDER," he spat, and so quickly he whipped himself around to face his employees that the trail of his cloak nearly twisted around him twice. "Everyone: to work! Don't follow me," he so tersely demanded of them, and not even saving until the end of his order to twist right back around, there was as if a great wind had billowed from beneath his unnatural form as it stirred his hem-like body and cloak before the front door violently flung open a millisecond before a streak of pink and purple propelled through in chase.

... And then quite immediately he was hung up behind the Kecleon, who had only sneaked as far as two steps out from under the canopy.

... What? Oh wow, I forgot he's a Kecleon. Those things run about as fast as Druag's arthritic night strolls.

So the Ghost sort of haunted around behind the chameleon while it made a clumsy getaway. What he did notice even before the Kecleon camouflaged to imitate an invisibility, was the blue stripe pattern around its waist. Immediately he made the probable connection that the blue stain Blair was talking about earlier could be in connection to this stout creep. And if this was the case, this Kecleon was undoubtedly a spy for who else but his arch nemesis--or at least that's what his paranoid and deep-seated spite of Amaryllis lead him to believe.

But the plodding stripe wasn't headed towards Forget-Me-Not. Instead, it was likely trying to shake him off, attempting to jog itself up a number of stores north of the two rival headquarters--or rather, "shake off" as in "bumble a straight shot up a wide, vacant street". It was after silently seething behind the Kecleon for so many minutes as it deftly ran blind past store fronts, probably thinking itself beating a hasty retreat in its mind, and leading the way for an undoubtedly isolated incident when Castiel decided no longer to patronize the stripe, and made himself known with a tone of voice that tried to sheath cutting words.

"Turn around, you tubby tum-tum'd, lead-footed little clod," he insulted, gearing up for the stinkiest, most repugnant Mean Look he could muster in bait. "I bet you can't even look me in the eye."

__________________________________________

Forget-Me-Not
6:00 AM | Main Floor



The piercing, hollow screech from the Chimecho was like a convulsive shock to Amaryllis' feelers as they actually bent back to recoil from the sound, and her immaculate coif of flowers frazzed so much out of place from the vibrations and her own shivers that petals molted from her, just as if winter suddenly came upon them all.

Amaryllis gave a wide-eyed, glassy look at Rina as her employee folded herself onto the floor as if starched, ironed, and done. Luckily, a lantern from the ceiling lent itself a service and floated down to completely lampshade the Psychic's head, leaving her there, a reclusive, despondent mess.

To make matters worse, a giant, talking parasite presented itself with a particularly portly beaverkin slung over its hunch. Amaryllis slowly rotated herself on the point of her leafy fin to face them, the muscles in her face still in shock as she finally breathed words, just anything so that she would not have to deal with the problem child of the family.

"...Yes?" She wheezed. "What else has gone horribly wrong?"

"What is it."

Amaryllis did not turn around to to meet the muscle mass that so suddenly loomed over, asking his question with the matter-of-fact downtalk intonation that was almost characteristic of him.

Nothing of the Florges' demeanor changed. Internally, she had become resigned. "Goro," she sighed, "The one under the paper lamp wants to talk to you. I," she began, here eyes lowering to exchange the same glazed-over, vacant, milky stare of the Parasect intruding before her, "I have been called to deal with a private matter for the poor Bidoof here, and must take it in private."

"What is it," the gruff voice set upon her head again, the question still as relevant as before.

The Florges took a moment for an excuse before she began to shuffle off toward the Supply Room, leaving with an answer she would never explain nor take back: "They dropped him on his head again."

Orx of Twinleaf

Branch into Psyche

Male
The Corner of Hither and Yon
Seen February 20th, 2018
Posted February 8th, 2018
228 posts
3.4 Years
Druag
Druag hadn't noticed how tense his shoulders had been until they relaxed on hearing Silver receive his small contribution. Maybe he wasn't as bad at the whole decorating thing as he'd thought.

Castiel's voice came, calling Blair (ah, that was the Braixen's name) and Druag out, and Druag turned to face his boss in time to see something bright in the doorway for just a split second. Druag wasn't even totally sure he'd seen it until he heard Castiel's sharp hissing word:

Intruder.

Druag's grip tightened on the broom as his mind played back all the sour instances in which that word had sounded in his past. Stranger in the caves. Trespassers, scavengers, interlopers, thieves. Echoing shouts and growls in the dark. Accusations, curses, cries of surprise and anguish. Druag pinning some hapless thing against the wall and making absolute certain the cretin wouldn't come back after he'd applied the cruel laws of the wilderness: tooth and nail. Roars of warning as he watched them run away into the dark of the night, thoroughly disheartened from any future attempts.

Druag took a step forward, just a small one, with his left leg, and the pain that flared as he put his weight on it called him back to reality. Castiel had whirled around and issued an order that carried the weight of the authority he had over them all: "Everyone: to work! Don't follow me."

And with that, Castiel disappeared out the door. Druag stood for a moment, unsure. There had been a time when he was the one that chased after intruders, when he was the one in charge. But those times were behind him, and Druag had to come to terms with that now. Druag took a deep breath and turned away, back to his sweeping.

Like you could catch a runner, anyway. When was the last time you could match pace with a Torkoal, Druag? Druag sniffed. At the very least, he could still swing with proper force, he was sure. And, even, he was quite sure he could drag himself on his arms some small way if it ever came to blows. Maybe he couldn't chase anymore, but he could still fight. Frozen Foonguses, Druag, what are you thinking? You can't be thinking like a beast anymore, even if you do look like one. You're a civilized Pokémon, now. And civilized Pokémon don't think about shaking down trespassers. You simple oaf.

Druag dropped the dustpan and swept his little gathered pile into it before hobbling to the waste basket and then returning to his steadfast broomwork. He was quite sure Castiel could handle the issue. Mismagiuses—Mismagii?—were quite fast, he'd surely catch whatever that was in the doorway earlier. Druag distantly remembered what it was called—a Kecleon—but couldn't remember ever having personally dealt with one. Known for changing colors, or something.

Druag filled the dustpan and did another lap to the waste basket, this time bringing the basket back with him to carry along as he went. Walking across the room was starting to get rather annoying, really. Druag stopped a moment and scanned the building: he was keeping a rather commendable pace, he thought. His long arms let him drag the broom across the floor in great swathes, and despite sweeping one-handed Druag was managing to be quite thorough. At least, he didn't think he was missing any spots. He had been at it for a solid ten minutes, give or take, and looked to have it finished in another ten.

"Hm," he said aloud, more to himself than anyone who might be paying attention. "I'll be finished sweeping in another ten minutes or so, I figure. I can help with the decorations after I'm done if they aren't finished by then." He nodded to the shelf he was sweeping near. He was more planning for his own benefit than making suggestions at the moment, and might have been muttering as he eyed the old trinkets and assorted bric-a-brac. "Hm, if they decide they can handle the stand, I'll probably just dust these old things, I suppose."

Silver and that fish fellow might not have hands in the traditional sense, but Druag sort of thought they were probably a little better with delicate work than he was, and that Blair girl certainly was. He resolved to help them if they found something they felt he was needed for, but he wouldn't otherwise risk messing up such things with his grubby claws. He stood much less risk of breaking something if he was using a feather-duster on paperweights, he thought.

Druag smiled a little to himself as he swept. It was a lot easier to ignore his more melancholic thoughts when he had work to do. Easier, perhaps, Druag. But you can't ignore the truth. You simple oaf.

Druag, frowning, emptied another dustpan of sweepings into the waste basket and wondered inwardly whether there was a dumpster big enough somewhere in town that could similarly dispose of him.
A Cup of Dreams, Pour in Your Soul, a Pinch of Knowing, Stir in with Hope,
and Drink to Despair and Celebration: Drink it All and Stay Asleep, Drink in Parts and Vomit it Back
Joy, Relief, Fury, Fear, Sorrow, Longing, and Pain, Colors that Forever Cope
Despondency and Guilt with Ambition and Pride, No One of this World and Species may Truly Lack

Ihsaan

shinigami of the alfheim

Male
Abu Dhabi
Seen August 9th, 2018
Posted October 30th, 2017
109 posts
3.5 Years
Samuel the Bidoof

Mission: "YOU. HAD. ONE. JOB."

Samuel snorted as he was awoken by the shrill voice of his jingling co-worker, who does more yelling than chiming apparently. He shook his head, and wondered how long he was out for. He shook his head, causing his drool and nasal fluids to fly everywhere, at Amaryllis, Spora and-

WHY IS GORO HERE; Samuel thought while screaming internally. He was immediately awake due to fear and nature's overwhelming call.

Samuel feared the lumbering giant ever since he entered Jubilee with his family. Arguably the most law abiding, Arceus fearing person was scared blue by a law enforcer. It was almost poetic. His train of thought as well as his spirit was swiftly broken by the Pangoro's gaze, which seemed to be emanating from Fire Stones and for a good reason too. He, along with Amaryllis and Spora were drenched in spit and mucus. Samuel opened his mouth to apologize but all that came out was;

"meep."

Xtrashy

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

Female
On the planet Earth
Seen November 23rd, 2016
Posted October 17th, 2016
144 posts
3.5 Years
Spora realized she could probably make Amaryllis look like a horrible person should she let Goro know what was actually going on around here, but the need to keep a job was just slightly higher on her priority list that selling out her boss for her behavior. Though when that same boss seemed intent on throwing her employees, and she was one of those, to the dogs, she was far less concerned with making sure Amaryllis looked good. She pretty much ignored Rina's scream for the most part, whatever it was about hardly concerned herself. She did give Goro a look though, as much as a Parasect can give any pokemon a look, big pokemon that he was, looked tough. But she didn't much care about him though, he wasn't here because of her so it was a moot point.

Instead she scuttled after her boss, carrying the Bidoof atop her mushroom even now. As she went she wiped off some dried up spittle flecks, as when they had landed on her any moisture they contained seemed to have vanished within the blink of an eye. After she had followed her employer into the supply room she stated. "You know, I don't think it's any better that Goro thinks your employees harm each other as opposed to him having accidentally hurt himself." though she realized it was purely because her boss didn't want Goro to know she had put Samuel into a position that would likely end up with him getting hurt, she wouldn't have bothered with it at all if Amaryllis hadn't implied that she could have possibly done something like that. If she was going to be potentially blamed for hurting someone she'd actually like to get to hurt someone.
"I see now that the circumstances of one's birth are irrelevant; it is what you do with the gift of life that determines who you are." - Mewtwo, Pokémon the First Movie.

Jauntier

Where was your antennas again?

Male
USA
Seen April 6th, 2018
Posted December 23rd, 2017
661 posts
4 Years
Forget-Me-Not
6:02 AM | Supply Room



Feeling droplets of slobber slap against her arm, she grunted in pure annoyance through clenched teeth as she wiped her limb over Bidoof's back. When they had stepped into the Supply Room, flicked on the light switch, and shut the door, her face immediately shifted into a dense brow and frown that nearly hung off her jaw.

"Spora," she said, addressing quip about her less-than-glamorous cover back with Goro, a hand on her chest to imitate a regal grievance, "Goro and I go way back. I'm sure he understands that when I said 'They dropped him on his head again,' I actually mean 'Samuel is a silly, funny little goofball, and I am personally not liable for any physical injuries he may have sustained due to negligence.' Besides, he'll be busy being angry at Rina, so I get some leeway with whatever I have to say."

I wouldn't be surprised if it actually was a head injury. He probably thought too hard.

She brushed off a few petals from her shoulders as if to say she was done with that matter, as now she had something new to address. With a sigh, she began to fan herself, and continued to talk with her eyes fixed to ceiling as if searching for divine grace. "So what happened this time, because call it hunch but I'm sure little Samuel here hurt himself if you're actually willing to have him lounge on your hump like that, Spora. I'm sure that must irritate it, right? Or is it more like... you know... a big fat bunion?"

After posing her quasi-metaphorical question, she lowered her eyes from the ceiling so that she could actually inspect the room for any clues of the supposed incident. First thing she noticed was that the backdoor was propped all the way open, leading to the zen garden outside.

Her garden of sand and gravel--which she had meticulously combed through to be the sole artistically-liberated patch of dirt along the mundane back alley, and unofficially claimed as her space to go sit and meditate during her lunch break--had been dug up, gaping holes like shovels and paw-fuls were scooped out, leaving beneath it the old layer of concrete that was never paved over with the rest of the alley.

Her surly expression shrunk back into a blank face.

"... Who touched my..."

Her eyes shifted elsewhere, and amidst three vases with conspicuously sandy bottoms, she saw a dirtied, chipped, and scuffed up Mismagius sculpturette.

She looked as if she had seen a ghost.

"What is going on here?!" she now fretfully demanded.

Xtrashy

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

Female
On the planet Earth
Seen November 23rd, 2016
Posted October 17th, 2016
144 posts
3.5 Years
Spora was actually somewhat pleased to see Amaryllis so displeased, it was like a wonderful little moment for her. "From what I could tell, he dropped one of those big statues on his tail." she told her. She wasn't sure of the exact details of how that happened, but when you put Samuel together with heavy lifting, it wasn't too far out of the realm of possibility to assume the end results would be less than pleasant. "It's far less irritating than being insulted if that's what your insinuating, the additional heat is less than comforting." she continued as she watched Amaryllis have some sort of tizzy or something, it was hard to tell what was going through her bossed mind most of the time.

Though looking outside with her she saw that it looked rather, disheveled out there. Kind of wondered what happened herself, she hadn't seen anyone go out there, well, aside from the Furret earlier. Unsure if her boss was addressing her or simply talking to herself, honestly it was more likely to be the latter than the former, she answered regardless. "Well I couldn't tell you, I haven't been out back all day, though I recall the uh, what's his name, the Furret went out back just a bit ago."
"I see now that the circumstances of one's birth are irrelevant; it is what you do with the gift of life that determines who you are." - Mewtwo, Pokémon the First Movie.

Junier

Fake Friends Forever (´・ω・`)

Female
Seen August 3rd, 2018
Posted August 3rd, 2018
984 posts
4.2 Years

Rina the Chimecho ~ Forget-Me-Not

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

Here's the deets:

__
Location: Forget-Me-Not; the project corner
__
* Collabs: *
Jauntier; Goro
__
Mentions:
Amaryllis
__
Held Item: Pretty Lantern
__
Status: Re-invigorated, thanks to some rousing choice words
__
[ uplift ]
-------The store scene bustled by in a twinkling light show as Rina sat with the starry-blue lantern over her head. She made no effort to correct it. The opening up top was just large enough to fit her snugly, like a nightly veil that turned the world into an indiscernible blur of colors and muffled sound. Rina much preferred things this way. She would savor her time reserved to mulling in her morosity, isolated in plain sight through a fragile paper barrier that proved a tragic disguise. From an outsider who cared to look in, the Chimecho was a sullen, soggy mound of folded toilet paper on the outskirts of the Forget-Me-Not project area.

-------Poor Rina could make out too much: the exchange between Goro and Amaryllis, the humbled form of Spora and her living luggage. Finally, Amaryllis’ departure. There were no snarky pleasantries in retaliation to it, no “Good riddance”s or the like. There came only another glum sigh from the Chimecho as she reluctantly took to acknowledging the hulking shadow in her peripheral vision. She felt the defender’s looming presence like a thick shroud of Poison Gas that stuck in her throat and subsequently wrung it dry. She was growing ever fearful, but at the same time, Rina understood what needed to be done. This would be both a confrontation of her fright and a confrontation of the misconduct she had displayed, the blight she had proven herself to be for one unfathomable reason or another.

-------The Chimecho slowly removed the starry-blue lantern-veil and accepted her fate. Her eyes refused to lock onto the stoic glare of the Pangoro festival guard but she was still able to speak, albeit hoarsely, with surprising stability. “Mr. Goro… That is your name, yes?”

------- "Yes," the living wall answered in his bellowing bass. He did not hesitate to return to the subject of the conversation that was so hastily dropped before. "You had asked me if there was 'someone in particular who was necessary to look out for'." He repeated her phrase verbatim. One could assume he has very good memory. "The answer is no."

-------He bent down and plucked up the lantern from the Chimecho's head, triggering a stifled squeal. "Just be aware of your surroundings. That is all."

-------He gave no second thought to mince words or elongate the conversation, having dismissed the little blue chime. He had said his piece, and it was to the point. Now he was completely preoccupied with something else, as he lifted his arms and head to try and string the blue paper lantern up to its rightful place again in Rina's arrangement.

------- The Chimecho, meanwhile, fixed staring yellow eyes on his efforts. It was as if she'd been stricken by a great anticlimax as, for many a second's time, she sat stock-still, only affording a single blink before rising shakily into the air again.

-------"It is okay, Goro," Rina managed to mumble. Her freckled face was as pale as it had been when the guard had approached her. The amaranthine-colored end of her tail quivered tenuously, as did the corners of her little mouth, struggling to hold an assuring smile and, unfortunately, failing. As for her eyes, the Chimecho's appeared painted; they did not move and one could not read them. There was no look of persistant fear, relief, surprise, nothing.

-------"The lantern I can hang. I did not mean to put it there..." A subtle convulsion in her tail as she spoke on, softly, her voice threatening to splinter in mid-speech. Rina stopped and then started again. "I-I mistaked it for another lantern that is not... its color... I-I can finish..." And she moved forward to retrieve what had once been lain atop her sadness.

-------Just as it appeared he had successfully strung it in place, hearing the Chimecho request otherwise, he grunted and plucked it right off the hook, handing it to her by a pinched string.

-------"Many thanks." Rina took the string into her tail.

-------"What is it," Goro then staunchly asked, not indicating to what in specific he was asking about.

-------The Chimecho was left bemused as a result. "What...? Er, Mr. Goro..." Rashly, her tail swung down in a sweeping motion and the fragile string of the light fixture was lost in the process. The starry-blue lantern crashed to the ground. Suddenly, Rina's voice was low and indistinguishable with anguish and frustration, but only for a moment's time. The Chimecho was quick to regather the fallen object before glancing back up apologetically at the black-and-white giant. A bit of color returned to her face as she met Goro in the face.

-------"I am very sorry but what are you asking me?" If it was a question, even...?

-------"What is it," he repeated. "You act like everything is falling apart."

-------Rina was, inwardly, stricken. Goro's intentions were as legible as graffiti on a wall after a few day's rain. Yet, his impassively-spoken statement—and she repeated it in her head: You act like everything is falling apart—came across to her as an invitation. Bunched in the Chimecho's gut was a nebulous bundle of negative feelings: vexation, covetousness, anger and angst. Verbally untangling it would prove messy. How polite would it be to expose it all to this grunting festival guard? But perhaps the phlegmatic Goro had truly invited himself to the task.

-------"Well... well, everything is, maybe!" she exclaimed. "I have not felt very good at... at myself all day! Or at my coworkers, too... Things are going bad, I feel. I thought day one of my first job ever would be amazing, this morning! But it has not been! I... I do the things... the tasks... but I do not do them right! And I'm mad..." Her voice trailed off.

-------He grunted in affirmation, flicking the young sprig of budding Oran berries in his mouth. "When I'm mad, I take a deep breath." He scratched his chest. "Clears my head. Try it sometime."

-------The advice warmed Rina further; her face was now a soft shade of periwinkle. She allowed her voice to come back. "I will try it now." The Chimecho hesitated at first with a sense of youthful uncertainty. Eventually she did take a breath, slowly and steadily, intaking as much air as her chime-like body could handle and letting it go. Rina tried again, this time with her eyes closed. A sharp yet slow intake of air. Then, release. A third time, now. The Chimecho felt herself rise... then... sink. Rise... then... sink...

-------She dared to open one eye to glaze over Goro's daunting form, relieved all the same to see he hadn't left yet. Within Rina was a blossoming appreciation for the festival helper, especially fostered by the fact that he had bothered to stand here alongside her. His advice, Rina pondered, was surprisingly relieving, despite their simplicity. They invoked a certain ebbing, as if a breeze had gone and whisked away part of the Chimecho's negativity, leaving her with a disconnected second half that she could hardly make sense of.

-------Rina supposed, then, that the treatment had worked. "That was very helpful," she said pleasantly to the festival guard. "Thank you, Goro... Though, what I do now, that is what I am now wondering."

-------He tipped his little orange cap in acknowledgment of her gratitude. "Keep working," he plainly stated. "It will pay off."

-------At that remark, he bent over to his side and with one hand picked up the otherwise burdensome pile of mulch he had carried in earlier, as a favor and relief for Amaryllis. He stood off to the side now, his attention now fully shifted to the Supply Room door, waiting with his permanently straight face.

-------Rina looked after him disappointingly for a moment's time but ultimately retained the urge to call out to Goro again. The tip of his cap alone had a sense of finality to it and it felt to both of them that their exchange was complete. The succinct parting message still rang in Rina’s mind: ”Keep working… it will pay off.”

-------She did not doubt the adage for a second, for it was spoken so unvarnished, so forthrightly, that Rina was just nearly awe-stricken. In a world—her world— littered with portentous, frilly speakers, Goro did not dodge around her, he spoke directly to her. He did not seek to bamboozle her with bedazzled terms and phrases. Instead, Goro spoke plainly and Rina greatly respected him for it. A part of her was still stupefied by the encounter entirely, but it was not hard to readjust herself. Goro was like a grizzled monument just two paces from her right, one a ‘mon would regard with admiration if they possessed the courage to look them in their stony, authoritative eye. In the end, Rina shrunk back with the message still ringing her mind.

-------”Keep working… it will pay off.” The next reasonable conclusion to draw was, “Well, it is time to return to working.” And with that standard thought came rejuvenation. Perhaps Rina was not particularly happy yet but dwelling through that or working through it—they were two different things. The Chimecho decided complications were a bore. She had to cleanse herself of the fog and continue as usual. The brevity of these sentiments was refreshing enough for Rina to re-engage her quest in becoming Forget-Me-Not’s Employee of the Past Twenty-Four Hours which she had half-consciously adopted. There was much to do still, she observed from a brief glance about the corner, though only one specific Pokemon could tell her what was needed and that was her boss.

-------Rina followed Goro’s gaze reluctantly towards the storage room where it seemed every other Forget-Me-Not associate had accumulated, and the emanating tone was far from lax. From a considerable distance, she could sense Amaryllis’ stress. She heard a horrified “What is going on—?!”; that was truly all she needed to hear. Rina deduced a later time would be better for approaching her manager on the subject of new objectives. As for now, she was yet again on her lonesome, though the misplaced starry-blue lantern reminded her of her original duty that still went unfinished.

-------No time must become waste! She set out to finally see it done.

Out Of My Mind
Seen June 11th, 2017
Posted February 25th, 2017
397 posts
5.7 Years

SILVER



While the others were talking, Silver felt a strange sensation, It was like wind had caressed her fur, but they were inside, so there shouldn’t have been any wind. If there had been someone close enough to breathe on her, as weird as that would have been, then maybe that would have caused the feeling, but there was nobody close enough. She glanced around the room, searching for anything out of order, mostly looking for open windows, but saw nothing. She shrugged it off and turned her attention back to her boss as he said, “Now, Blair and Draug…” He paused and cut off in mid sentence, seemingly frozen. Following his gaze, Silver spotted a pokemon, red and blue, halfway in and halfway out of the main door. She realized after a moment it was a Keckleon, and the strange coloring pattern was his camouflage, or rather lack thereof.

Silver darted outside, her reaction time only a second behind her boss, and she exited the store onto the sidewalk where the sneaky pokemon and Castiel were racing (as fast as a Keckleon can race) down the street. Only then did her boss’ words register for her, “Intruder! Everyone to work, don’t follow me!” She froze, wondering what to do. She was already outside the store. While she could go back inside like Castiel had ordered, he might need help. She knew Castiel was strong, but at the same time, you never knew how a battle might go down. Plus there was the overwhelming sense of curiosity…

Making her decision, or rather her legs seemingly making the decision for her, she started out at a light jog down the street, doing her best to follow the strange pursuit while still remaining unnoticed. The pair really was going quite slowly, although she could only see the strange disembodied stripe waddling down the street. It might have been the strangest sight she had ever seen, a Mismagius haunting a blue stripe down a street at six in the morning. After only a few moments, she had almost caught up with them, but stayed back about twenty feet just in case Castiel did something dangerous. She didn’t want to get hit in the crossfire.

When it looked like a confrontation was finally going to occur, she hid behind a trashcan, poking her head out to one side so that she could still watch whatever was going to happen. Her claws flexed in and out, and she longed to go out and fight the Keckleon herself, but she resisted the urge. She was already disobeying orders, best not to make it worse...yet. Castiel said in a blistering tone, “Turn around, you tubby tum-tum'd, lead-footed little clod. I bet you can't even look me in the eye!” Silver felt the hair raise on the back of her neck, she had almost never heard her boss talk like that before, almost. It sent chills down her spine, and she suddenly pitied the intruder for having to deal with Castiel.


Foxrally

Age 20
Male
a Torterra's back
Seen 3 Hours Ago
Posted June 30th, 2019
2,585 posts
6.4 Years

Status: Trying his very best to figure out what's going on


Click here to view Errol's application!


Held Item: 'Fortune Telling For Dummies' Book
Errol the Qwilfish

Errol was prepared to hop down to get the books he had dropped, when a familiar figure entered the store. It was Druag the Druddigon, or rather as Errol's mother called him, "the product of society's lazy underclass, don't you dare be like him!". Despite her warning him many times about talking to Druag and touching him - Errol was fairly certain she had no idea he worked in the same store as him - he was always mesmerized by the dragon type's sheer majesty. The rugged scales, the battle scars, the powerful jaw that could snap rock in half, the terrifyingly sharp claws... Druag was all Errol wanted to be! Well, minus the physical and economical disabilities. He had even heard stories of Druag being a wild Pokemon! The only wilderness Errol knew was his mother's temper. He often thought about asking him about his adventures in the wild, but often backed out at the last second in nervousness. After all, being faced with such an imposing, majestic figure was quite an overwhelming feeling for a little Qwilfish.

"Oh, thank you, Mister Dragon!" Errol said as Druag nodded a greeting at him and picked up the fallen books.

"You pack quite the punch in your tail, Errol. I just hope the spines on your tail didn't puncture the spines on my books. At least Druag has gone out of his way to appear in time, if just to clean up your mess." Castiel told him.

"I'm very sorry..." Errol mumbled almost inaudibly, looking down in shame and disappointment. He however noticed that when Druag had replaced the books, he had put the fortune telling book - the one Errol wanted - on its own rather than on a pile of books. Oh, perfect! Errol thought to himself, and picked up the book in his mouth. As he began the slow and difficult process of hopping down his stepladder while carrying a book, he listened as Druag and Blair gave their suggestions. Wow, Blair is very passionate about this... Maybe I should recommend this book to her! It has very nice pictures.

Errol had managed to hop over halfway to the project area, when suddenly he saw saw a strange looking stripe move towards the door. Errol glanced at it curiously. How strange! I wonder what that-

"Intruder." Castiel spat. The strange floating stripe had now turned into a strange red reptilian Pokemon, which Errol had never seen before. Errol turned to his employer inquisitively, the book still in his mouth. "Everyone: to work! Don't follow me."

"Wha-" he began, but had no time to finish his sentence. He felt a rush of wind as the ghost type zoomed across the store and outside, flinging the door open violently.

After a few moments of silence, Errol looked around. "What just-" he was interrupted once again as Silver rushed out of the room herself after the two other Pokemon.

The young Qwilfish waited a little longer and looked at Blair and Druag to see if they were going to do anything. He looked up to the two much taller Pokemon in the store. "I'm sorry, but what just-" Errol winced as he was startled a third time by the (rather loud) sound of the front door slamming shut. "Nevermind..." he sighed as he picked up the book again and made his way to the project area. Castiel had told them to stay in, so whatever had just happened, he had to follow orders. Using his tail to spring up and jump onto the table - something he had learned to do in his time at the store, as he often had to jump up to the counter or high-up shelves - he lay the book between the box and the tablecloths. Druag had apparently gone back to cleaning, and with Silver gone, him and Blair were the only two left working on the project.

"Hey, B-Blair..." Errol stuttered. "I was reading this book last week about fortune telling... Well, it was more of looking at the pictures really..." he continued, looking down in shame. "But I think you m-might like it!" He nudged the book forward towards the Braixen with his tail, trying as hard as he could to smile amicably. "I saw some really cool designs for fortune telling stands on there, and you seemed very... ah... passionate... about those. I also remember leaving the page marker on the chapter about crystals, so maybe that could help you!"

Realizing he had not actually given any input himself yet, he looked around the store, and turned back to Blair. "I'm v-very sorry to have to ask you, Blair, but... didn't Mister Castiel have some playing cards in the mystical games shelf over there? Maybe we could use those for magic tricks! The pictures for card tricks in the book were very pretty."
Paired to Ice and gimmepie
3DS Friend Code
0103-9972-1307
I make memes and other carcinogens

Fen-kun

An RP Hermit

Male
San Antonio, TX, USA
Seen March 9th, 2018
Posted February 13th, 2018
276 posts
3.7 Years
Addressing the suggestions made by his employees and, hopefully, taking into consideration Blair’s expertise on magic, he began to reply to Druag and Blair while Silver was busy milling about all of her ideas to be worked on when he spat, “INTRUDER.” At that moment, before Blair could even react properly, he tersely snapped, “Everyone: to work! Don't follow me.” He floated effortlessly over to the lumber-footed Kecleon. Despite her earlier enthusiasm, she was not gonna risk her job, so she merely stayed put. Just as she was gonna have a snarky conversation with herself about it, however, Silver rushed out of the door. True to her impulsiveness, she rocketed off, perhaps not registering that she might irk the tranquilly furious Castiel. With that craziness, she quipped, “Man, just when I was hoping for a regular day. Guess that’s just too much to ask, isn’t it? I swear, this festival turns people all sorts of crazy.”

Not receiving an answer about the tent, addressing the other employees, she drawled, “Sooooo, who wants to help me with the tent thing?” Before she could get any leeway on suggesting this to any employee, Errol meekly asked, stuttering a bit as she offered a book about fortune telling to her, "Hey, B-Blair...I was reading this book last week about fortune telling... Well, it was more of looking at the pictures really...But I think you m-might like it!”

Now suddenly very interested, forgetting however trivially Errol seemed to annoy Blair, she gushed, “Oh. My. Arceus. This book, this is amazing! Man, I’ve been looking for a book like this.” She yanked the book off of the floor and gave it a skim, reading through all tips it suggested. She continually muttered about various stones and the such, almost ignoring Errol’s suggestion about the cards. “Hmm? Oh, I s’ppose he did say something about that. I’ll check that out later after I read this book.” In a genuine and non sarcastic smile, she said and squealed, “Thank you so much! Oh am I gonna have fun!” In a frenzy Blair began to get some crates from the supply room, leftovers from inventory, and called out to Druag, while Blair walked out of the supply room, “Ya done cleaning, Druag? I need some help draping the cloth over the crates.”

Evyl

t r a g i c

Male
Junkertown
Seen April 17th, 2018
Posted December 1st, 2017
262 posts
5.5 Years
Varien the Kecleon

Mission: Avoid Castiel!!



When he turned, Varien faced Castiel, the shop owner himself, not unexpected but still daunting. He Licked the Mismagius, acting without thinking, completely unaware he was being spoken to. He had the advantage, being invisible, Castiel unable to see his tongue let alone realise what happened until it was too late. Although the moment of his stripe might give his rotation away, the Ghost was close enough that Varien didn't have to stretch at all for his tongue to contact the owner's face.

Vairen didn't bother with what happened next, turning again, running for an alleyway, incredibly fast for a base 40. I don't know if I paralysed him... I have to get out of here! I can't use Shadow Sneak again until I recover... How much longer can I stay invisible? The Kecleon was being pushed to his maximum, his stamina nearly depleted. He was about to get between two buildings when everything hit him.

He collapsed, completely exhausted, his full colouring returning. No... He reached for the alleyway, just too far... How far was it...? He had to let Amaryllis know... No keeping his good reputation was more important...

Blinking, Varien's thoughts swam to his dream of ruling this town, and how something like this wasn't going to be the end of him. He had to get up. He had to. But he could not, as he had no strength left. So the Kecleon was still, camouflaging himself out of instinct, another wave of adrenaline waving through him. I can remain here until I get my strength back... If I don't move I should be able to keep invisible... It was difficult to accept, but Varien was now helpless. He didn't know how long he needed to recover, and he didn't know if Castiel was right behind him or not. The world wasn't going to wait for him.

Ihsaan

shinigami of the alfheim

Male
Abu Dhabi
Seen August 9th, 2018
Posted October 30th, 2017
109 posts
3.5 Years
Samuel the Bidoof

Mission: "Escape The Room Before Time Runs Out! Part 2: Don't even bother, you're screwed!"


"What is going on here?!" ;yelled Amaryllis staring at the Mismagius statue. Mismagius. MISMAGIUS. It finally hit him. The fact that their sworn enemy was a Mismagius, hit him harder than a Snorlax using Heavy Slam. How could he forget? What made him think that the Mismagius statue was, 'mystical' and 'spooky'? Samuel looked at the statue, then at Amaryllis's contorted face. His face began to twitch. His primal instincts kicked in.

Run.


"I'M SORRRYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!" Samuel yelled as he jumped off of Spora's 'head' and dashed away. Samuel ran extremely fast when he was scared.

He kept running and all of his surroundings were a blur. Luckily he didn't smash into anyone, but he could see the confused faces of all his co-workers as he ran. His tie flew up and covered his face, but he didn't care. Arceus dang it, if there was something Samuel knew how to do well, it was persevering as he ran away from his problems. He kept running even after he felt the cool morning air against his face. Which was a mistake. Almost immediately after existing the store, he tripped on the cobblestone road and fell over. He wasn't injured, but he still began whimpering instinctively.

I can't do anything right.; he thought gloomily as he turned onto his back and gazed into the sky, that was slowly turning a lighter color, indicating the coming of morning. He felt the breeze through his fur and all of it was so calming. He hadn't slept that much of course, he woke up earlier than Amaryllis herself. His eyes flickered a few times, before slowly closing.

SNORE

The little Pokemon was whisked away into Cresselia's realm, with a smile on his face.

Junier

Fake Friends Forever (´・ω・`)

Female
Seen August 3rd, 2018
Posted August 3rd, 2018
984 posts
4.2 Years

Rina the Chimecho ~ Forget-Me-Not

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

Here's the deets:

__
Location: Forget-Me-Not; the project corner ↪ the front counter
__
Mentions:
Amaryllis, Spora, Samuel
__
Held Item: Old X-Mas Ribbon
__
Status: Get murde done!
__
[ work, work, work, work ]
-------The store was bedazzled by an organized overhead display of vibrant lanterns.

-------“Very nice… Very, very nice!” The Chimecho was quietly complimenting herself. She was quite proud, having found a way to incorporate all twenty-something lanterns there into her pattern: a mix of pink and green along the edges of Forget-Me-Not, enclosing an inner ring of purple. Then there in the approximate middle hung the single, gorgeous, starry-blue lantern.

-------Rina’s perpetuating problem had not to do with her display. It exceptionally garnished the entire store, she thought, but as for the still-vacant “project” corner in which there resided no true project, it hardly made a difference. The Chimecho dallied for a moment or two, casting eyes over the lanterns, then over to the indistinct corner. Her eyes fidgeted over towards the storage closet, to all of her coworkers and even her manager. She hadn’t any need to approach them since Goro’s interruption; all the green and pinks were long hung. And despite it, for a time Rina expected a Spora to come crawling over with supplies cradled in her claws and directions on her crimson-colored mandibles. Nary a Samuel came tumbling across the tile floor, inevitably toting along a cross and ever-commanding Amaryllis. It was then that the Chimecho realized with gleeful shock, and perhaps a dash of worry, considering the task ahead of herself, that it was all dependent on her to fashion up the project place herself…! All by her lonesome...! She could scream again!

-------Pointedly avoiding the storage room like a limb of thorns, Rina set to racking her brain near the front counter instead. The designated box of decorations had been quite large, surely full with more than paper lanterns, but she had gone and tilted clumsily onto the floor earlier so many of its contents were beneath her. Oh, Rina, you’re such a fool! she thought with self-expensive merry, rushing to gather tail-fuls of ribbon tangles and little silver dangles. And as she sat examining the things in her scarf-like grasp, now, the Chimecho began to truly consider the actual objectives, for immediately and admittedly she was lost on where to begin.

-------Really, taking a look at the sad little corner with its one little fat vase… It was so blank at the moment. One would think Amaryllis had told them to ignore it rather than make a marvel of it. That or their first thought would be at the employees’ sake; “Boy, what a load of slack-offs!” It was so empty, there was no real “improvement” to be made. It was the equivalent to the poor Chimecho starting from scratch.

-------But she could not be weighted by discouragement now, not when so much had suddenly been affixed on Rina’s little (she hastened to call them) “shoulders”. She racked her head: Something that causes eyes to look at it… But that was very vague. What had the Florges specifically asked for? Rina could scarcely remember. The Chimecho did recall some very pointed adjectives, and that was a better starting point that nothing at all.

-------Not it was, essentially, interior designing based on a theme. Rina mumbled those pointed words to herself, sent another sweeping glance over the storefloor, then set to work. She dumped the kitschy knots of ribbon but kept the bells; she found them adorable, perhaps out of bias. She did not want to hang anything else on the ceiling, in case it became overwhelming. A clean, minimalist look was most appropriate. But where would she set the bells? Perhaps she would string them along more quality ribbon, not the crafty, paper-ish kind that most belonged at the bottom of a box. Oh, how Rina loved the imagery of bells with bows and ribbons. Rina found such a material by peering hastily over the check-out corner. Green and red and gold they were, along them the faint imprints of snowflakes. It was suitable enough, she supposed. What else was here? Tinsel. Spilling out of the box; too flashy. Ornaments? A bulbous red one below her; where would the Chimecho even hang it?

-------Oh, but this was interesting: a throw rug in which the stray ornament rested, just below the cash register. It was noticeably grimy from being trampled on but the ornate pattern spiraling across it surmounted that. No matter its purpose; Rina considered it a lucky find and, all the same, she was certain she could clean it. The Chimecho decided it would go under everything, including the vase. She’d need more than one vase to make everything work; Rina remembered Spora had been settling those about Forget-Me-Not and she reckoned they would be put to better use in the project. But then the ribbons and the bells would be wrapped around them. They, the vases, would in turn sit on all four corners of the rug. Excellent!

Orx of Twinleaf

Branch into Psyche

Male
The Corner of Hither and Yon
Seen February 20th, 2018
Posted February 8th, 2018
228 posts
3.4 Years
Druag
Druag emptied his umpteenth dustpan's worth of dirt into the waste basket. He was making even faster progress than he'd anticipated; he was rather pleased with himself. Keep expectations low to ensure satisfaction, Druag? That's an awfully shallow way to defend your mediocrity, isn't it? Druag snorted. His thoughts could be rather hurtful sometimes, but other times even he had to admit they were a tad petty.

Druag was quite finished with the floor, now, and only had to get behind the counter. Of course, customers didn't stand back there, so that took a backseat to this special fortune teller thing Castiel had talked about. Druag heard quite an alien girlish squeal come from the project space behind him and was unable to stop himself from whirling around wide-eyed. Is that ...? But it was just Blair, evidently pleased with something the little fish had done or said. Druag had almost dropped his cane, but kept his hold on it. His gaze had intensified for the briefest of moments, but he calmed himself quickly.

Druag swallowed dryly, blinking. She's dead, stupid. You know that, and you know you know it. He cleared his throat and shook off that line of thought awkwardly, steering his internal monologue away from that dark place. He raised and eyebrow in the direction of his co-workers, instead. I don't know if I've ever heard Blair that happy, before. He would have more expected such an outburst from Silver, but now that he looked he noticed she wasn't there with them. Had she gone to the restroom or something?

Blair's voice brought him back to the moment. She had started bringing some crates out of the back. "Ya done cleaning, Druag? I need some help draping the cloth over the crates." Druag had been thinking about taking a peek out the door to see if Castiel needed any help (he had, after all, worked his way to the front of the store in his sweeping), but moved instead to help the Braixen, propping the broom against the counter with the waste basket and dustpan and hobbling toward the project space on his cane.

He moved over in time to help her stack some of the crates, insisting on his doing so given his superior height, even if he had to do so with one hand. He took the end of the cloth in his hand and levered it over the improvised pillars with his long arm, helping Blair get it over the tops and then leaving her to straighten it up and make it look nice.

Druag noticed the little fish fellow had been mere feet from him this whole time and he may well look like he was shunning the fellow. Druag had always gotten the quite distinct impression that the Qwilfish was a youngling, or very close to it, and Druag always tried to keep back from younger individuals. He didn't trust himself to behave correctly around them: all he had to interact with them was the same smiley prattle he used on customers to sell things to them. And to be perfectly honest, that kind of charade was rather exhausting to keep up for too long at a time. Oh yes, Druag, keeping from being a grunting beast is certainly a full-time job, isn't it? Druag threw all his mental acuity to shutting that nasty voice out: he never let himself here it when he had to put on his smile.

That wasn't the easiest thing to do, though, so Druag preferred not to have to talk to the fish. Besides, Druag unfortunately had to resort to "champ" when talking to children, as "Mr. Errol"—ah! Druag finally remembered the name! Why couldn't it be something easy like Silver or Blair? But then, Druag had no room to talk in that department—would only make the situation awkward, Druag felt, to refer to a kid that way.

Druag spoke up as he stepped back to keep out of Blair's way, in case she wanted to adjust their little tent somehow. He stopped himself just in time from calling Blair "dear": he wasn't sure if she was a youngling or not; he'd never really thought so until he heard that squeal a little bit ago. But when you called an adult "dear" it takes on a surprisingly different meaning in these times. "Ms. Blair, do you need me to get anything else from the storeroom for you? I don't think I ought to poke around in the tent, I'll probably snag something on my arms or claws in there, but I can get some stuff for you to decorate the table in there if you need something." Druag fished in his head for a way to include Errol. "Or should I set some candles up on the tops of the shelves for atmosphere, with some shiny trinkets?" He turned to Errol and pitched his voice out of the gravelly growl it was and into the less intimidating high baritone it had to be around customers and children. "You could help me with that, champ, your spot at counter-level can make sure everything looks good from that normal height. I'm too tall to tell if I put the candles too far back. We can get to that after I finish helping out Ms. Blair, of course."

Druag's insides always gnawed at him whenever he had to talk like that, his inner monologue calling all manner of unsavory things. That Kecleon from earlier would be envious, Druag, its color change couldn't hold a Litwick to your sheer duplicity. And how naturally your falseness comes to you in front of children, too! You simple oaf. Druag ignored it. Druag had to ignore it. He leaned back on his tail slowly, both hands on his cane as he waited for Blair's requests or lack thereof, the hint of a soft smile on his rough face doing wonders to cover the grimace with which he was staring at himself.

A Cup of Dreams, Pour in Your Soul, a Pinch of Knowing, Stir in with Hope,
and Drink to Despair and Celebration: Drink it All and Stay Asleep, Drink in Parts and Vomit it Back
Joy, Relief, Fury, Fear, Sorrow, Longing, and Pain, Colors that Forever Cope
Despondency and Guilt with Ambition and Pride, No One of this World and Species may Truly Lack

Who's Kiyo?

puking rainbows

Age 23
Male
Olivine City
Seen June 7th, 2019
Posted September 6th, 2018
3,221 posts
8.2 Years


" Most of my advice for common issues involves arson and cannibalism,
so unless you'd like to be arrested, I advise not following it. "
Cicaro the Eleventh
- Shiny Furret -- - Level 23
- Forget-Me-Not Employee (+0)

Today's Achievements
Created joint post with Jauntier!
Went "Green" and time traveled without the use of a DeLorean!
Discovered true minty hell!
-------- " Waiting idly before I can buy my next strawberry. "
----------As soon as Cicaro became aware of the smile on his face, a fit of coyness mutated it into an skeptical smirk. A part of him thought there was a curious undercurrent flowing through that conversation with Sebastian: another part answered that it was honest flirtatious tension, but his stomach loudly groaned above that voice as it chewed a stagnant feeling of doubt. He figured that he was tinting meaning over the interaction to make it into something he would’ve liked it to be, and he theorized that the Weavile was only pandering to his good side.
----------The bits of sand stuck in his paws and the thin showering of sweat caught in his fur made it feel like he just surfaced from a pond of murky water. He shook out his hands and smeared his eyelids and cheeks with aloof glumness. Sniffing despondently, he touched the rim of a filled vase and contemplated the project area. The space looked fairly accommodating until it shouted “ What is going on here?!
----------Admittedly, he spent longer than he should’ve believing that reality broke down before matching the shrill quality of the noise to that of Amaryllis. Another sound, with a buzzing timbre as if it was littered with small insects, said “ Well I couldn't tell you, I haven't been out back all day, ” and turned Cicaro's head to a picture of his boss standing beside Spora, and for once, the matron was not wearing any of her masks. Her entire being was stiffened with raw fearful surprise, mouth tempting the idea of being agape. “ though I recall the uh, what's his name, the Furret went out back just a bit ago, ” the Parasect persisted.
----------Amaryllis’ pupils locked onto Cicaro's; both sets of eyes dilating in sync with eachother. Time locked and approached the Furret with an ultimatum: if he couldn’t explain his position amongst the various offenses around him in the next few seconds, Amaryllis would surely succumb to a complete mental breakdown: a performance featuring high-pitched screams, scathing attacks on his intelligence, and a show-stopper from a hastily signed pink slip. Cicaro attempted to swallow his tongue as he formulated an answer.
----------He asked silently if he could call upon one memory to aid him, and time responded by dissolving the scene of the store into the bright sunlight of an otherwise unassuming day back several weeks ago.

- Went "Green" and time traveled without the use of a DeLorean!

----------It was the fifth day of Cicaro's residency in Jubliee, and the Furret was sitting quietly within a miniature zen garden that he discovered behind one of the various stores that lined the streets. His scarf laid in the sand, making a circle around him, and tiny puffs of smoke emanated from glass ashtrays as sticks of cheap incense burned. His sister - the one interested in spiritual philosophy and had an obsession with spinach quiche bordering on the unhealthy - had prescribed that he meditate and reflect on his choices at least once a day while he lived in the city. She wasn’t the most mentally stable of his siblings, but he was feeling somewhat adventurous and figured that if his sister could find as much peace as she did despite living in her best friend’s basement, then there just might be some credit to her ideas.
----------A door closed behind him, followed by a short-lived series of footsteps. Not quite coming out of his dreamy trance, Cicaro looked over his shoulder and discovered a thin slip of a Florges with a wooden rake. Her expression shifted from astonishment to anger before she pouted her lips and stamped the bottom of the rake on the ground.
----------Excuse me? ” she piqued, “ I'm sorry, but I'm not sure if you saw the towering, locked chain-linked fence you had to clamber over to illegally trespass on my private property?
----------I'm just a poor peasant boy, ” the Furret explained.
escaping the spiritual turmoil of my castrated life; waiting idly before I can buy my next strawberry.
----------The Fairy pecked at him with a completely baffled look, the response barely registering past her sense of logic. She allowed herself a second to interpret the claim before she internally declared it nonsense and collected herself, outstretching her arms.
----------Oh, no, I apologize. I didn't know you were that kind of 'mon, ” she dryly acquiesced, one part sugar and two parts venom. “ So! Now you have until the count of three before I inflict self-defense on you. Is that okay?
----------Cicaro let out a sigh, resigning himself and beginning to roll up his scarf. Fear for his wellbeing and politeness got the better of him, and although he was irritated that he probably couldn’t get away with sneaking back here again, at least this shop owner gave him a warning before attacking him.
----------Forgive a fan, love, ” he entreated, “ I’m trying out this new age trend and, well, this seems to be the only hint of taste in an otherwise drab alley. I always forget to ask for permission when it comes to having things I admire.
----------A raised eyebrow signaled that the bomb within the woman’s spirit had been diffused. “ Oh, really? ” she quipped. She placed the rake against a nearby brick wall and wiped imaginary dust off her leaves.
----------Well, since you put it that way sweetheart, I'll give you an extra two seconds to answer, ” she calmly threatened. “ I demand your name. No theatrics; I'll have you know that I am an avid constituent to the community watch committee, and if you don't cooperate, I'll write someone to tell someone to quarantine your house.
----------She began to count. “ One-Mississippi ...
----------Cicaro. If I had friends, they'd call me Chic, ” he offered.
----------He went around snubbing out the incense, squeezing the smell from his nose - well, the area where a nose would be placed, if he had a visible one - when the smoke tunneled into his nostrils. “ It’s probably for the best you busted me. The cheapest incense I could find was from that store across the way, and the only eternal thing I’ve found is a migraine.
----------The Florges perked up to the mention of another store.
Cheap goods and chronic headaches? Was this store, by chance, Spirited Away?
----------Once the Furret affirmed with an uncommitted hum, she crossed her arms and looked over at him with incredulity.
Interesting. Well, I will admit: you don’t look like a Pokémon that’d support such a shady place, ” she commented.
----------I’m a drop in the upcoming flood of future impoverished citizens,Cicaro said, bundling ashtrays in his scarf. “ The need for rent money has driven me to a life of ‘pounding the pavement;’ whatever my mother means by that. I believe it entails trying to break the record of how many applications you can fill out before your fingers fall off. I might as well pick up something neat while I’m doing it.
----------Cicaro finally turned around and walked towards the Florges, picking through the threads of his scarf until he uncovered a transparent cassette tape case. He began speaking distantly as if he were narrating rather than directly talking to his companion.
Day Five marks buying things from spooky ghosts, trespassing, and plucking mint leaves to see if they can stay my oral fixation.
----------He opened up the case and procured one of the said leaves to pop into his mouth. This proved to be a terrible idea as expected, and he nearly vomited on his flowery guest, but the Furret swallowed the plant and bore the tormenting aftertaste.
----------The woman narrowed her eyes and tapped her chin once or twice as a thought intruded upon her. She tutted at whatever this notion was and gave it dismissive swat before reluctantly saying, “ Well, this is perhaps against my ... better judgment, but I am short an employee after last Monday's fiasco
----------She beckoned him into the store proper - introducing it as Forget-Me-Not and herself as Amaryllis - before pinching up an application from the front counter and boasting about the store's inviting, creative, and engaging work environment, family-centric and edified vision, and paid thirty minute lunch breaks. “ All of which that pink and purple pillock across the street refuses to provide, I might add, ” she insisted.
----------Cicaro cooed and critiqued the items the store sold. It smelled exceptionally nicer than the one across the street, and sported paintings of questionable quality.
----------So, what do you say? ” the Fairy invited. “ Are you interested and lacking a criminal history?
----------Cicaro was about to reply before he noticed that they left the back door wide open. An early morning had eaten the midday sky they left, and newly formed holes in the zen garden demanded answers. He had been pulled back into the present without realizing it.

- Discovered true minty hell!

----------All the players in the store stood still, waiting for Cicaro to remember his line. He gave a glance to the small blue creature busying itself with something in the project space, hoping that the image would provide the right phrase he needed to diffuse Amaryllis another time. If appeasing to her pride transformed him from a tramp to a potential employee in a single conversation, then surely doing likewise here would dig him out of trouble.
----------I’m sorry! ” something screamed. Immediately, everyone’s attention panned to Spora’s fur hat coming to life and scurrying out of the store. Taking this as some kind of divine opportunity granted by Arceus, Cicaro jumped towards his employer and gently clutched her hand during the distraction.
----------Oh, Amaryllis! ” he whimpered sympathetically. “ You wouldn’t believe the nerve of this strange man outside!

- Cicaro used Follow Me!

----------He kindly led her to the scene of his crime. “ As Spora might tell you, ” gritting his teeth on the utterance of his co-worker’s name, “ I hurried and took some vases outside. I didn’t want any harm to come to them as I worked; so, naturally, the safest place that came to mind was your meticulously groomed zen garden, no?
----------He pretended to look for any lingering signs of the strange man he devised. “ Not one second after the door closed behind me I was thrown to the ground! ” he pleaded, motioning to the imprint he left when he fell. “ I must’ve slipped into unconsciousness for a bit, because before I arose, sand was everywhere. On top of me, in the vases - just, madness! Here, take a look, they ruffed me up a bit, too.
----------Cicaro presented the light bruises he suffered from being smacked into by Sebastian.If it wasn’t for that sweet Samaritan chasing him off, ” he continued, “ lord knows what else may have happened. Where do you think that mugger was from; why attack me like that?
----------He let his body become sensitive to the point where it developed a noticeable shiver. It wasn’t particularly hard to do; a chill was already invading his whole body. This was the first time in a while he had told a lie this big, and he felt especially proud of his acting. He bated his breath and awaited in anticipation for his boss’ response.

hugh holland in "cracks: a sinnoh story"
-
-
Pair
-
Underground
-
Roleplay Theatre
-
Credits

Foxrally

Age 20
Male
a Torterra's back
Seen 3 Hours Ago
Posted June 30th, 2019
2,585 posts
6.4 Years

Status: Trying his very best to figure out what's going on


Click here to view Errol's application!


Held Item: Deck of Cards
Errol the Qwilfish

“Oh. My. Arceus. This book, this is amazing! Man, I’ve been looking for a book like this.” Blair squealed.

Errol blinked. What had just happened? Had Blair just shown something other than annoyance towards him? Is that the real Blair? he thought to himself, puzzled. I don't think there are any other Braixen in this store...

“Thank you so much! Oh am I gonna have fun!” the latter thanked him.

"N-no problem!" Errol stuttered, beaming proudly. "I'm glad you like it!" As Blair put the book aside and called for Druag to help her with the crates, Errol hopped aside in order to not get in the way. After they had stacked a few crates, the dragon turned to him. Errol flinched a little as the mighty figure lowered his gaze in direction. It almost reminded him of his mother's Intimidate, but more on the impressive side rather than the scary side.

"You could help me with that, champ, your spot at counter-level can make sure everything looks good from that normal height. I'm too tall to tell if I put the candles too far back. We can get to that after I finish helping out Ms. Blair, of course."

Errol stared at Druag, confused. Why had he just called Errol 'champ'? I don't think I've really won anything to be called a champion. No wait, nevermind! I remember winning a swimming contest a few years ago! It's strange how nobody else participated in the race, though. Mom even personally went to them to encourage them... he thought. Snapping himself out of his internal monologue, he nodded vigorously. "Yes, mister Druag! While you do that, I will go fetch the cards for the stand."

The young Qwilfish rolled over to the other end of the store, to the mystical games shelf near the bookshelf. Items stacked along the shelves included magic 8-balls, crystal balls, DIY magic sets, guides on how to win bar bets... and all the way at the top, various packs of cards including poker, tarot, tricked cards, and a vintage unopened pack of staryu-gi-ho-oh. Man, I wish I had enough money to buy that... I'd be so popular once school starts again! Errol thought to himself. Of course, he would never bring himself to do such a thing - his mother had raised him right - but a fish could always dream, right?

Errol looked around. There was usually a stool at each corner of the store for him or any other employees to use. There it is! He hopped over to the stool that was near the window and pushed it forward with his tail, moving it closer to the shelves. When that was done, using the same technique as earlier, Errol jumped up using his tail to get on the stool, which leveled him just enough for him to be able to grab a pack of fortune-telling cards with his mouth. After rolling back to the project area (and carefully not dropping the pack), he put the pack down.

"Here you go!" he chimed. "I saw some other stuff back there too, like a crystal ball. I think that's pretty important for a fortune telling stand, right?" he asked, looking back and forth between the Braixen and Druddigon who had been busy setting up the whole stand in his absence.
Paired to Ice and gimmepie
3DS Friend Code
0103-9972-1307
I make memes and other carcinogens

Jauntier

Where was your antennas again?

Male
USA
Seen April 6th, 2018
Posted December 23rd, 2017
661 posts
4 Years
Forget-Me-Not
6:05 AM | Main Floor



Dark, shaded eyes trained on the door to the Supply Room. While the Chimecho worked on the peripheral of his vision, Goro watched as shadows shifted about through the sliver of light between the floor and the bottom of the storage room's door. His ear twitched when he heard the distinct yet muffled wail of Amaryllis, and shortly after it was met with another outburst whose unknown speaker soon revealed themselves as they burst out of the room, too: a Plump Mouse Pokemon with a red tie slung over his face and tears flung back from the speed of his flight. For his squat stature, the Bidoof sure could haul tail as he fled by Goro and out the front door.

The Festival Guard blew a strong gust of wind from his snout, exasperated. He dropped the mulch in his hand onto the floor with a loud thud. Though he did not hesitate to follow after the Pokemon, he took his sweet time in an unhurried, lumbering pursuit.

As he stepped over the threshold of the front door and left the tinkling sound of store bells behind him, the ursine titan now loomed over the collapsed body of the Bidoof splayed out in the street. The mousy Pokemon looked as if he had already tired himself out of all that moderate activity, and laid there peacefully asleep.

Goro steadily exhaled.

He reached over to pluck up the small beaver in much the same way he would have the bag of mulch, but the sound of a familiar voice up a few stores on the quiet, empty street caught his attention. The words at that distance were not distinct enough to clearly hear, but the tone sounded hazardous. He looked over his shoulder and spied a drifting, displaced figure. He narrowed his beady eyes.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

6:05 AM | Supply Room


When the Bidoof screeched himself alive, slid off of his temporary host's own parasite, and flounced out of the room in tears, her fury was as hard as both the embarrassment she felt in having her secret Mismagius stress statuette exposed, and the angle of her twist towards the perpetrator's route of escape. The Florges had wild, dilated eyes that shot dirks in the fatty back of the beaver, and just as she had lifted her dainty little hand up to snatch the scruff of her stubby employee's neck before he was out of reach, another stubby something caught her other hand.

She whipped around to see the simpering sniveling face of Cicaro.

She would have let the mangled corners of her mouth split open so that she could shriek at him to get off of her, and allow her to stop her other dullard employee from making her look conspicuously incompetent in front of Goro, of all 'mons, but she couldn't even bear the barrage of words that befell her.

Every single word that driveled out of the pink ferret's mouth was just one more weight lugging her down lower. She was beside herself as he directed her to her disheveled sand plot, pointing at it, and then pointing to roughed up patches on himself, mentioning a crime, something of a stranger that attacked her garden, her precious garden, and her employee, roaming the back streets, assaulting Pokemon, suspicious strangers, suspicious--

She collapsed onto the ball joint that her strange anatomy could consider a merge of her knees, and she stayed right there on the sand-dusted asphalt. She doubled over as if she had been chopped in the gut, her arms on either side of her the only thing propping up her upper body and keeping her from burying her powdered face into pure grit. Her hands scooped up fistfuls of sand, and after a moment of uncontrollable trembling, she wrenched herself up, her hands letting streams of dirt trickle through her little fingers and catching on the wind, the petals of her voluminous mane shaking loose and falling out all about her just the same.

With a shrill voice, she let her words rise so that all could hear:

"IF YOU PEOPLE DON'T FIX THIS, EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU WILL BE FIRED!"



All employees were dealt a Reprimand!
EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU WILL BE FIRED!



* Walks into [Tavern]

Greetings

Xtrashy

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

Female
On the planet Earth
Seen November 23rd, 2016
Posted October 17th, 2016
144 posts
3.5 Years
Honestly Spora hadn't been much concerned when Samuel suddenly ran off. If he could still move like that then obviously he wasn't hurt to badly. Though looking out to see what was wrong with her boss she had also seen the apparent disheveling that had occurred in the back. Though she honestly couldn't understand why that would have her so upset, but then again to her the back was just an empty patch of dirt and rocks for the most part, with little understanding of why Amaryllis seemed to care so deeply about it. Though as Amaryllis shouted what seemed to be the ultimate threat, Spora just stood by wondering how she'd even go about doing that. Amaryllis fire all of her employee's was she even capable of running all of this by herself these days? Spora wanted to say that, she wanted to tell Amaryllis that she could fire the lot of them and to have good luck running things by herself on the day of the festival. But she couldn't.

Not because she really cared about Amaryllis as a pokemon, no there was no sympathy for her in that department, but because Spora was far too angry with whoever had called this wrath upon her, it was one thing for her to face her own consequences, but when her job was on the line because of someone else's mistakes, that's when she got more than just peeved. Cicaro mentioned a culprit of some sort, she wondered if whoever this was still remained outdoors somewhere? Regardless she needed to get out of here just for her own sanity. So she scuttled her way out of the room, through the store area, ignoring everyone else as she went out the front door, looking to see if there was anything out there to investigate, not even giving Goro a glance as she did, though a glance would mean little given her lack of pupils.
"I see now that the circumstances of one's birth are irrelevant; it is what you do with the gift of life that determines who you are." - Mewtwo, Pokémon the First Movie.

Junier

Fake Friends Forever (´・ω・`)

Female
Seen August 3rd, 2018
Posted August 3rd, 2018
984 posts
4.2 Years

Rina the Chimecho ~ Forget-Me-Not

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

Here's the deets:

__
Location: Forget-Me-Not; the project corner ↪ the aisles ↪ the bean-bag corner ↪ behind the counter, and back again
__
Mentions:
Amaryllis
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Held Item: Thimble
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Status: Worried and anxious ↪ Eureka! Working hard
__
[ work, work, work, work, work ]
-------The rug was small but served its purpose well enough and, now that Rina had given it a hearty dusting with her tail, she hardly doubted its belonging in the project corner. But it was lonely there with only the unstrung bundle of ribbon and pile of bells at its hem, so Rina set forth to gather the rest of the vases.

-------Her first sorrowful thought, when she couldn’t find them, was Spora had put them in some odd, inconvenient spot. She was a quirky-seeming thing, after all (“Quirky” alternatively meaning “horrifying”). The mushroom-ridden… lady was short so, perchance, they were on the floor along the aisles, or something silly like that. Alas, Rina only found ribbons neatly lining the edges of the shelves. Affixed with a frown, the Chimecho eventually had to come to terms with the second, just-as-plausible idea that the vases were not here at all. She swore she had seen then, though! Could they have been here before, only for some incorporeal force to have snatched them away? What would have done such a thing? Had Amaryllis gone all “on-second-thought” and—

-------Speaking of Amaryllis, she was throwing a right fit by the storage area, enough so that her huffing carried and turned Rina’s little glassy head. The Florges let out a bloodcurdling roar:

-------“IF YOU PEOPLE DON'T FIX THIS, EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU WILL BE FIRED!"

-------The Chimecho went ice cold. In that stand-still moment, it seemed very possible that the maned despot would soon-enough have all three of them booted from storegrounds. Quickly, Rina was to fulfill master’s wishes. With unprecedented disgust for her co-workers, with dread, but especially with urgency, she went flying. Forget the vases; Rina was searching wildly, all about the aisles farthest from the storage room, for anything else. Anything else, or at least anything that would work.

-------She found herself at the beginning again: the plush corner beside the front door. The bean-bag chairs seemed nostalgic even after a mere hour or so of work.

-------It was then Rina reached a rough epiphany. The remembrance of their first-ever gathering here in Forget-Me-Not: there was the sleep mask, a Kecleon and the project was supposed to be a…!

-------With haste the Chimecho dragged out one of the chairs with her tail, the image of the five-o-clock meeting fresh in her mind. She was visualizing the project just as she started moving another one. Her inventiveness had spiked considerably with Amaryllis’ newly-remembered words... But, look here, on the rug! That illusive thimble!

-------The nifty find wouldn’t contribute to the project corner, and Rina knew she’d need a plethora of things to truly capture her vision. Fortunately, she soon spotted a lovely and suitable green gazing globe. A rocky garden ornament in the shape of a Torkoal stood near it; she grabbed it too. The Chimecho also nabbed two hanging plants from just above—she supposed they didn’t need to be “hanging”, particularly, they could just be plants. Around that area, a cluster of glistening wind chimes stuck out to the little Chimecho. Impressed, she pulled them from their upwards shelf.

-------Rina collected her finds among the isolated bean-bags before returning to behind the counter. There were more unsung treasures lost here, she hoped, other than the little throw rug. The decoratives box with the tinsel and such lay open and welcoming with the date “12/25” marked on its side; Rina assumed it was Amaryllis’ birthday, as she would be one to adorn her store dramatically in her own name. Digging dedicatedly through the box proved worthwhile as Rina pulled out, peculiarly, a wreath. At first it seemed tacky but it quickly grew on her and the Chimecho decided to save it.

-------Her vision was changing to suit all the new additions but Rina was beginning to settle on something final as she heaved her haul into position. On the way she took with her some string, more ribbon and, despite herself, the canister of glue. It was a mesmerizing shade of purple with a label that read “WARNING: EXTREMELY STICKY”; that exaggerated detail should have alerted her but the Chimecho was trucking along.

-------Everything is to come together with one another just fine, she thought happily to herself, and Rina began to untangle the pile of ribbon.

Fen-kun

An RP Hermit

Male
San Antonio, TX, USA
Seen March 9th, 2018
Posted February 13th, 2018
276 posts
3.7 Years
The crippled dragon, who had seemed to be struggling with something or other, perhaps an old memory of days long since past, had helped Blair stack some crates, taking over with the top crates when Blair's dimimitive height of 3' 03" prevented her from continuing. Working together rather harmoniously without any back talk or sarcasm from Blair was a bit of a rarity when she wasn't dealing with customers. After finishing stacking the crates, the elder dragon had stated that his claws and the like probably wouldn't fare so well for the cloth; however, he did volunteer himself to get supplies to decorate the table with. With this in mind, Blair replied, "Hmm...well, if ya could pull out those amethyst beads we have somewhere-I don't remember where they were-and some of those mystical vases." The "mystical vases" were nothing more than ordinary clay pots decorated with an admittedly pretty turquoise glaze and some supposedly "mystical" cinnabar imbued into it.

Amethyst beads and mystical vases. Right. "I'll poke around in the back and see if I can't find em, Ms. Blair."

On top of the cases and beads that were provided to Blair, it also appeared Errol also pitched in, bringing along with him a pack of cards and mentioning where the crystal ball - an item almost crucial to entire stand - was.

Druag hobbled off toward the storage room on his cane, scanning the shelves as he went by in case the requested materials had been put out at some point. He shivered once as he moved and took it as a good sign: he must have taken his pill after all that morning; if he hadn't he would have been reduced to shaking fits about twenty minutes ago, he figured. He reached the back and swept his eye over the grubby room of crates and boxes. Dark rock, simple stone, look for the sparkle, see what has shone. His gaze blinked over something of a particular purple and he hobbled over to it, disappointed to find it had been only colored glass. Fool's gold, keep looking. He turned about, running his miner's eye over the dry cardboard veins in search of little purple beads.

"Ah! There we are." They had been in one of the lower cardboard boxes, behind where he had gotten the broom earlier. They were quite pretty but almost too round and light. Druag was inclinde to think they might have been fake, but when he brought them closer to his face he suddenly couldn't tell. "Hm. Not bad." He had never dealt with amethyst a whole lot, himself, so he admitted his expertise on that matter might be lacking. That had always been her job.

He cleared his throat abruptly, calling himself back to reality. He took up the box and carried it back to the tent quickly, and didn't stop to wait for acknowledgement before leaving it on the floor and returning to the storage room for some vases. The vases in question Druag remembered easily: quite a curious shade of red and largely unlike the more cool colors of the trinkets in the back room. They were lined against the back wall on a low shelf, and Druag snaked his long arm out to hug a good six of them to his chest snugly. His throat itched a little in memory as he caught the scent of cinnabar on them. Hm, I kind of thought that stuff was toxic. I guess it doesn't bother these town Pokémon if they don't have to sit in clouds of it. He still remembered that one time years ago when he had been asked to bring up cinnabar in someone else's cave, and had been told not to breathe the dust too deeply.

He hobbled carefully back to the tent with his precious red cargo and then, ever so slowly, he put all his weight onto his right foot and tail as he leaned his cane against the wall and used his now-free left hand to unload the vases from the cradle of his arm and onto the floor next to the tent. He took his cane back up and turned to the little fish, putting his voice back into that more chipper tone that grew easier to hold as work distracted him from his biting monologue. "I think that'll be enough to keep Ms. Blair for a while, you suppose we ought to spruce up the rest of the store a little, champ?"

Errol nodded. "Yes mister! But fiirst, I'll go fetch that crystal ball, so Blair can finish up with the whole setup." he turned around, but suddenly stopped himself. "Oh! Did you need me to get the chairs too? I don't think I can lift-" he stopped mid-sentence, and gazed up at the powerful dragon-type. Shaking his head and frowning determindely, he cleared his throat. "I mean, I can do it on my own!" I can't have Mister Druag do everything! I must learn to be stronger!

"No, no," Druag hurriedly said at the Qwilfish's insistence, "I can get those, champ." Truth be told, Druag couldn't quite imagine how Errol would manage it, except if he just pushed them over, and he didn't suppose that would be the fastest course of action. Still, something about the little guy's eagerness made Druag a little warm inside. Must be those Spelon Berries I had yesterday. He hobbled away on his cane and snatched the cashier's stool out of behind the counter. If whoever ended up manning the register wanted another stool, he'd find one for them later. He brought it over and set it outside the tent and then swept his head around the store. He was hesitant to get one of the stools that had been specifically put out for Errol's use, but he figured he could haul Errol around to anywhere the fish couldn't reach if it came to that. Druag moved over to the stool near the far bookshelf and took it, figuring it was likely to be the least-used, as Errol didn't seem like he'd have the easiest time pulling thick tomes off a shelf anyway. He brought the second stool back to the tent and watched Blair take a handful of decorations inside.

Now content that she had all of the materials to work with, Blair began to decorate the stand until she realized that there was one important piece missing, the crystal ball. She had remembered that Errol was going to get the ball. Blair, without looking up from wrapping the table with the amethyst beads that had been provided for her, hummed a little tune while she decorated the table, excited that she had a chance to participate in soemthing with magic rather than just peddling the goods to do those magical things.

After decorating the table with the beads, she took the jars that had been given to her and began to surround the table with some strategically placed jars (for maximum magical potency). Out of the jars they were given, she placed the widest on the table as support for the ball, adorning the left and right side of the table with space in the middle for a crystal ball. Speaking of, it appears that she forgot to get one or tell either Druag or Errol to go get it.

Errol quickly rolled out to the back of the store again where he had seen the ball. Thankfully it was fairly close to the ground, so he didn't have to use the stools this time. He carefully lifted the ball off the shelf with his tail, and rolled it to the project area where Blair was decorating. "Here you go!" he chimed. "Brought the cleanest and biggest one I could find." He was rather pleased with the fact he had gotten Blair in such a good mood, he had almost completely forgotten his usual shyness and intimidation around here.

After having the ball rolled over to Blair ever so gently with a proud expression from Errol, Blair picked up the pristine, crystalline ball. She picked the ball up ever so gently with her hands, still humming contently and adoring being able to do work with magic, temporarily ignoring her paranoia and distrust that she presented to the world as sarcasm, sass and abrasiveness. In this sort of thing, she could lose herself and ignore her own mental propensities, just like when she was a wee little Fennekin back home.

Blair perched and balanced the ball, nestled by the vase, completing the display. With a satisfied sigh, Blair crossed her arms and looked at the display, satisfied with the relative level of quality to the materials provided.

The project space thus effectively left in Blair's capable hands, Druag went to the store room one final time. He had noticed earlier when he had gotten the broom and dustpan earlier that there was a number of lit candles on the floor around the hatch that lead to the alleyway behind the building. At the time he hadn't questioned it or the potential fire hazard of leaving them in a room full of dried and aged dust-collectors, and he didn't question it now, either. Druag had worked with Ghosts a good deal in his time, and though he'd never dealt with a Mismagius personally, he was pretty sure they didn't have any sort of habits revolving around circles of candles left in unlit backrooms. He was quite sure that whatever superstition might have made Castiel make such an arrangement didn't demand it remain untouched. It had likely served its purpose before Druag had even arrived that morning.

Besides, these candles were already lit, and he didn't trust his dexterity to handle matches to light more or his knowledge of social no-nos to bring himself to ask Blair to do it. He didn't figure Fire Pokémon appreciated it when they were asked to be lighters, and wasn't about to try his chances in the matter if he didn't have to. He reached down with his big hand and managed to pick three up between his finger, careful to keep them upright and the wax from dripping. Then, he shifted his weight as he had done when handling the vases and carefully put down his cane and slipped three more into the cradle of his arm. He was dully aware of the heat from the flames and the wax, but his thickened hide disallowed it to pain him, and he actually rather found it rather soothing. Note to self, invest in candles. Hot wax is much nicer than a blanket, and at least I won't tear holes in wax.

He picked up his cane and stood back up, streaks of green wax smudging all over his chest. The peppermint scent was strong but not unbearably so, but that particular shade of green just seemed garish on Druag. "Hm," he mumbled to himself as he slowly approached the counter near the tent, "I'll have to rinse this off before the customers show up." He reached the counter and gently set the candles one by one on to it before taking one up his hand and turning to Errol. Druag could light more off of the lit candles if they all decided that every shelf should have some of them, but as it stood these six would need positioned throughout the store first. "Alright, champ, you've got a better eye than I would for this sort of thing, tell me where you think these should go." Taking orders from a fish, now? My, my, how very far you've fallen Druag. Druag pushed that thought off. He was too busy to be moping right now.
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