[PKMN OPEN] Off The Menu [T] [IC]

[Who's Kiyo?]

-

the silent auction

-----

Psychic Pokemon for the Retrieval and Rehabilitation of Ghosts, the group known colloquially as the "Spook Troop," are holding a fundraiser for their foundation. The tables in the Dining Room have been set up with clipboards and busts of fine jewelry, trinkets, precious antiques, and collector's items for people to mosey over to, a plate of finger foods in hand, and jot down a bid.

-

Train the New "Waiter." The restaurant is short on staff after one of Carmine's proteges is a no-show. The new busboy - a mute Octillery named Jean-Georges - needs to be taught how to wait on tables, and what better way to show him the ropes than by example?; One player, taking place in the Dining Room, Cigar Lounge, and Patio areas. You may bunny Jean-Georges' actions, but know that he is completely incapable of communicating with you linguistically.

-

Bathroom Attendant. Someone needs to tend to the guests in the Ladies' Room and provide toiletries or mints, and perhaps, a sympathetic ear. Do whatever they ask of you; One player - being male doesn't prevent character from doing this mission - starting in the Lavatories.

-

Receiving Guests. An onslaught of guests have arrived, and there are plenty of chores left to be done! Firstly, the Coat Check needs to be manned and completely reorganized - be sure not to get sticky fingers for anyone's possessions when shuffling around the coats to a system of your choosing - and secondly, PJ needs help carrying up pieces of art left in the Cold Storage and monitoring the Silent Auction ... make sure everybody who's there has a reservation. Up to two players, taking place in the Cold Storage, Coat Check, Dining Room, and Foyer areas.

Spoiler:

-

OOC Thread. Click (here) to go to the out-of-character thread. Be sure to ask Claudette, the first character being interrogated for The Guest List, a question!

-

Beginning. Everyone starts in the Foyer right after being presented the aforementioned list of duties by Carmine. The bird will stick around at the Host's Stand for a bit in case any of you have in-character questions or wish to converse with him.

-

Food Icons. You have been assigned a food icon! It will be present on any GM post that directly applies to your character. Afterglow Ampharos' Cadbury is represented with the Grain (Bread) icon, Ech's Vissi with the Fruit (Apple) icon, Grelzar's B.T. with the Dairy (Cheese) icon, Jauntier's Bailey with the Vegetable (Carrot) icon, and Your Daily Vitamins' Qui-Qui with the Meat (Bacon) icon.

-

-

-

-

​

-

VIPs. While you are free to create and interact with NPCs of various species in the pursuit of your goal, this map details the starting locations of GM-controlled characters that are either considered incredibly important clientele or plot-relevant. You may not bunny their actions but you are more than welcome to interact with them at any point, and some might interact with you. A list of their personalities has been added to the (Essentials) Post.

-

Takeout. Each one of you has been privately notified on the nature of your Takeout ability. PM the Game Master if you have any questions.

It is now 7:00 PM​

 

[Afterglow Ampharos]

♫ Slick


"Ah yes, the busboy. Moving up in his duties already, is he? I suppose the more versatile, the better, especially when we need folk to fill in work for others."

The Linoone looked up from the list of duties in his paw, just past Carmine's shoulder. He could see the Octillery from where he stood now in the Foyer. The octopus seemed octopied -- er, occupied, rather -- behind the bar with his many arms. Reaching down like that under the countertop, Cadbury could not tell what he was up to, but he could only hope the octopus wasn't getting suction-cup marks all over the glasses.

Cadbury moved his eyes back to Carmine. "He evolved just before he joined us, isn't that correct?" He'd seen the busboy at work, and he'd gotten the impression that tentacles are rather unwieldy appendages to own. At least the way Jean-Georges brandished them. Cadbury could only chalk it up to the jarring transition from no arms, to eight of them. And not a joint or bone to be found among the lot of them.

He bit the inside of his lip, his gaze back toward the bar as he thought. "I suppose I would be the best fit for training a new waiter. I can only hope he's a good listener. I can't imagine we'll be able to hold much of a dialogue." The one-way language barrier was concerning, but the numerous and uncoordinated tentacles gave Cadbury even more reason to pause.

Perhaps there was another duty he could take on instead. Consulting the sheet of paper again, he noticed something written beside the Bathroom Attendant job that he hadn't observed on his initial skim. "Oh -- males are welcome in the ladies' lavatory? Really?" Cadbury looked up to Carmine, as if expecting confirmation.

"For this task, I mean. Of course." An important clarification.

"This seems unconventional. Are you sure none of our guests will be uncomfortable with a man standing in the room while they use the facilities?"

Hm. That came out a little more blunt than he'd have liked. "Either way. I believe either of those tasks would be suitable for me." Cadbury turned to face toward the other employees of the evening. "Do you all have any preferences we should work around, or shall I simply take my pick?"

​

 

[Who's Kiyo?]

-----

Carmine distastefully scanned the slip of paper in his wing over and over, as if its words would rearrange into a different sentence. He inhaled deeply as he crumpled and tossed it into the bin next to the stand. "I'm not concerned," he murmured into a corded phone, "she dine with us regardless." Without awaiting a response, he hung up and took a moment to adjust his glasses before returning to reservations.

-----

Confirming one of the faces coming through the door as the musician for tonight, he checked something off in his ledger and scrawled a few notes down. When his pen started producing alien phrases like "evolved just before he joined us" and "males are welcome in the ladies' lavatory," the Trumbeak realized an employee was directing their musings at him.

-----

They concluded their distraction with an unsure "do you all have any preferences we should work around, or shall I simply take my pick?" directed towards the group. Carmine squinted at the Linoone and scraped the top and bottom portions of his beak together.

-----

"Perhaps - yes, you are listening to me? - I think," the bird said in a faux-friendly Kalosian accent, "that I prefer you got to work instead of debate whether a man in the bathroom is proper etiquette or no." He tried to end his "suggestion" with a tongue-in-cheek grin before the sound of glass shattering at the bar cut him off. He and Jean-Georges shared a plain-faced stare of mutual disappointment with themselves - the Octillery for breaking what was undoubtedly an expensive piece of capital, the Trumbeak for thinking hiring an inexperienced feral was an economic jackpot - before Carmine turned his glare back towards the stand.

-----

"And someone please go help that poor cephalopod before he makes me cut into your tips to pay off repairs."​

 

[Afterglow Ampharos]

♫ Slick


"Very well, sir," Cadbury replied, noting the urgency in Carmine's phrasing. He was already headed across the Dining Room with a brisk step. Though he was rarely too busy to refuse a polite "Good evening, madam," to the purple-furred guest he passed on the way.

Though he'd already passed her by, the Linoone lifts his nose, nostrils flaring. "Hm. Peculiar perfume on that one," he remarked to himself quietly.

As he approached the bar and greeted Jean-Georges with a similar good evening, the Octillery returned it with an apologetic look in his eye.

"Not to worry, I'm not here to reprimand you." Cadbury and Jean-Georges had already formally met, back when the Octillery started work here. He struck Cadbury as someone who was enthusiastic about working, but inexperienced in many ways. His attitude was just fine, however.

"Has Carmine already filled you in about what's needed of you?"

Jean-Georges's expression lightened up, but he shook his head no.

"Alright. If you're anything like me, you're proud of the work you've been doing as a busboy, but are eager to take on a little more responsibility, a less minor task."

The busboy's eyes brightened as they looked at Cadbury, and he gave a quick nod.

Cadbury grinned at his apparent excitement. "Good! Come out from behind the bar, then. I'm going to run you through some training on waiting tables."

With the popping sound of multiple suction cups in movement, the cephalopod climbed up and over the counter of the bar, joining Cadbury on the other side.

"...Alright," the butler said after a short pause, pushing down the urge to wince. "I understand you're excited, but in the future, climbing over any form of furniture is a definite no," he said, his tone firm but hopefully not severe.

"Come," he beckoned, moving to the nearest empty table in the Dining Room. His claws had already reached inside an inner pocket of his waiter's jacket, the one in "Finer Things Staff green," the one matching the bow-tie haphazardly secured around the Octillery's neck. Cadbury would be inclined to call his apparel a deep stromboli green, but that word didn't mean much to most of the people he conversed with.

He held out a small notepad with tear-out pages, as well as a pen. A good pen, at that, not a cheap variety. "Here you are. You can--"

Cadbury stopped himself. He was about to ask "You can write, can't you?" but he had just realized how rude that sounds, especially if the Octillery can. Just because he grew up in a colony, and only recently grew tentacles, Cadbury couldn't assume the worst of him. Still, Cadbury needed to find a way to ask the question while still being sensitive.

"How quick is your note-taking skill, Jean-Georges?" Cadbury asked, settling on a comfortable rephrasing. "Do you think you can write down the customers' orders as they come?"

​

 

[Your Daily Vitamins]

D A I Q U I R I
"It's ya gurl"
THE SALAZZLE

---

MISSION: Bathroom Attendant || ICON: Bringin' home the Bacon || EARNED: $0

---

----

She sniffed as she brushed her snout over her shoulder, scratching her nose on the fur trim. Her eyes were down as she picked at a stray thread on the towel that draped over her arm. She leaned her shoulder to the wall with her hip cocked out and a leg bent. Her long, winding tail laid out lazily on the floor as a neglectful tripping hazard, right in front of the door. Her long lizard toes each tapped against the tile floor, one after the other, just to give themselves something to do. She blinked a couple times as an eyelash fell in.

----

Under the distant smooth jazz playing from a couple speakers on the ceiling, strange sounds echoed out from the two occupied bathroom stalls. With one eye shut and watering from a stray lash, the Salazzle narrowed her other eye as she heard the hard clop of hooves repositioning themselves, a dry and flaky sort of scratching sound, and a few self-confirming grunts of several different implications. The Salazzle tried to tune out as soon as the first sounds of disturbed water reached her ear.

----

Seriously, what the hell kind of job is this even? Like…? Daiquiri thought to herself as she began rubbing her irritated eye, snorting. The freak am I getting paid to listen to a deuce, like, I'm dying. Daiquiri volunteered to take the bathroom attendant position for the time being. She didn't think much of it, she just didn't want to be stuck training the silent orange squid when she herself hardly had time to exercise proper fine dining the Finer Things way. Alternatively, she didn't want to try and chat it up with too many pushy preppy types at the auction. She figured the bathroom was going to at least give her time to collect herself before she had to go out there and rub elbows with all these elites. Unless the customers were going to get the occasional overripe fruit or undercooked meat that slipped out from under Lombardi's hawkish glare, she figured she'd not have any more than the two already in the bathroom for now. Besides, for the ladies room, Don't step up in here lookin' busted and ya ain't finna powder a nose, she earlier figured.

----

Now, Daiquiri glanced over her shoulder with her good eye to make sure the pointed bugle beak of Carmine wasn't poised for her neck. When he of course wasn't there - or anyone else for that matter - she hurriedly stepped over to the sink and turned on the faucet as high as she could. Not only did it help to block out the other noses, but letting the cool water jet in her slender hand, she bullishly splashed what she could into her eye. She blinked a couple of times after, her eye still stinging. As Daiquiri looked up into the wall-length mirror, she saw her neon green under-eyeshadow smudged over her squinted eye. That eye began to take a more irritated red color, which made her groan out peeved. Looking the rest of herself over, she found water had dribbled down her chin and heavily soaked part of the front of her coat. Very quickly, she took the towel that was on her arm and tried to pat dry some of the dampness off of her, only to find that she had gotten some heavy spray on part of the towel too. And on the counter. And the mirror. And the floor.

----

"This blows," She mumbled. Taking the towel to the mirror, she wiped off the water, only to leave a big green smudge. She had dabbed her face with the towel and it left a mark.

----

"Fff-" Daiquiri wiped it again with another side of the towel. The smudge just got bigger.

----

"Oh my gee, get bent" She hissed aloud. Deciding to take more measures into her hands even more, she reached for the liquid soap among the many bottles she had to put up on the counter from the bathroom attendant toiletries bag. She squirted a generous amount onto the towel, and as she began to rub the soaked towel of the green, she heard the bathroom stalls open. Startled, she whipped around, knocking the bottle of soap down where the loose cap fell off and it began to drain into the basin with the still high-pressured rushing water.

----

Standing there in the mess, wide-eyed as her dreadlock pompadour wig slid off-center of her head from her own torque, dripping and soapy towel in her hands, she cleared her throat.

----

"Uh… Hey, what's up?" Daiquiri tried to crack a smile as tears streamed down her burning eye. Her foreign accent was remarkably strange with inflections of the city and distant places. "I… got the soap runnin' for y'all?" She pointed to the insatiable mountain of suds now consuming the sink. "Dip your hands in? Hooves? I can also... spray your stall? If ya'll need it. I don't even -"

---

POST No. 1 || Previous - Next || DIRECTORY: x

---

 

[Who's Kiyo?]

-----

Jean-Georges blinked at the pad. He thoroughly processed the interaction and deduced - albeit incorrectly - that the gentleman had just given him a gift, and the octopus instantly flushed with embarrassment at not being prepared to exchange in turn. He quickly swiped up his trusty sketchbook from the counter and handed the Linoone a torn out drawing as an offering for his generosity.​

-----

The Rapidash looked up at the attendant, tears streaming down her face as well. "Oh, I ... I didn't realize anyone else was in here," she said, batting her eyes with a monogrammed handkerchief. Waving her expression off, she greeted the girl with a newfound sense of elegance. "Pardon me deary, I was looking for a bit of alone time before ... well, anyway, thank you for prepping the" - she observed the hoard of overflowing bubbles - "sink. Yes. Unfortunately, I won't need it; I wasn't using the facilities."

-----

A twinge of impatience with herself surfaced in her limp smile. "In fact, perhaps you could help me in another matter? I was, well, when I get anxious, I take off my necklace - today's was this delightful little crystal number I got from the home shopping network - and roll it around in my front hooves, and - wouldn't you know - these things are terrible, absolutely terrible at holding anything precious, so ... short story shorter, it dropped out of my hands and ..."

-----

She glanced over to stall she had just exited. "Um, perhaps you can suspect my dilemma."​

 

[Your Daily Vitamins]

D A I Q U I R I
"Tell me why you put diamonds on a horse"
THE SALAZZLE

---

MISSION: Bathroom Attendant || ICON: Bringin' home the Bacon || EARNED: $0

---

----

The lizard looked on blankly with her one eye at the Rapidash, sighing two plumes of acrid smoke out her nose.

----

You dumb beat 'why the long face' lookin'--

----

"Aww, lady," Daiquiri tried to knit her brow in a sympathetic fashion as green tears stained her left cheek. Not even looking back, she reached behind her and shut off the faucet, although she did look back in surprise when her hand had to travel through a giant glob of foam first. "Oh, what -" Before she could finish, she looked right back around at the Rapidash. "Uh - Whatever. I'll - I'll help ya out, you know, since, you know." Daiquiri shook off the suds from her entire forearm as she glanced down with a twitching eye at the horse's big clunky hooves.

----

How do you even put on a necklace, you're a horse? That and similar questions ran through her head as she now stood before the quandary of the bathroom stall. Throwing her soaked towel over the stall to hang, she rolled up her coat's sleeve up to her shoulder and took a deep breath, leaning against the stall and wiping her eye before looking back to the flaming steed on standby.

----

"You know," Daiquiri called back with a bit of a chuckle, "You're gonna have to pay me extra. My boss said I'm supposed to stay out of the stalls." With a big shrug of her shoulders at that, she closed the door behind her and got on her knees, staring the toilet bowl straight on.

----

With her other hand, she kept her sliding wig in place as she leaned in for a better look. The toilet seat was spotless for this hour, and there were no strongly unpleasant odors rising from the water. Just her luck though, as the necklace had bunched itself up right before going down the pipe, blocking itself from going any further.

----

Well damn, this is going to be easy, she thought. Reaching into the toilet to grab the necklace, she hooked a finger around the coiled bunch and gave it a firm tug to dislodge it.

----

It snapped. Some of the crystals in the disturbance of the water rolled free from the string connecting them together.

----

"WOAH WHAT THE FU-I MEAN DAYUM" came the shout as frantic splashing could be heard from her stall. Her tug had dislodged the necklace just enough that some of the stray crystals were rolling away into the pipe, too far gone from her reach. She tried to grab what she could with her slender fingers, but some inevitably got away.

----

Oh my GAW, this cheap ass necklace broke at my nail, like this lady got nickled, this is so DUMB.

----

As the stall door emerged, a wet Salazzle had her dripping hand out, a broken necklace missing some beads nestled in her palm. Daquiri gave the Rapidash a once over before giving a sniff.

----

"OK, so, don't flip," she said. "But it broke. Wait, like I snagged what I could, right? Cuz it was stuck in there? But pulling it out, I don't know, like they must've made that string from a single strand of the driest hair because it just didn't take much at all, let me tell you." She scratched at her head, a little bit under her wig. "Anyway.... Do you still want it, or...? Like I could get the janitor in here, he could break up the pipe but I don't know, we're busy people."

----

"Oh," she interjected, her itchy eyes shut tight now. "Plus there's my tip."

---

POST No. 2 || Previous - Next || DIRECTORY: 1

---

 

[Afterglow Ampharos]

Cadbury paused and blinked in confusion. The mute Octillery's actions were proving difficult to interpret. He hadn't noticed before that Jean-Georges had a sketchbook, but now he's the proud new owner of one of its drawings, it seems.

He glanced at the image, then looked back to the octopus. "No Jean-Georges, writing, writing. The written word," he insisted, tapping an open page of the waiter's notepad. It was even lined for easy alignment of each line of text.

"When the customer orders, you have to write down--"

The butler paused, his gaze catching again on the sketch he'd been handed. His brow furrowed as he studied it with more than the quick glance he'd given it earlier.

"Jean-Georges, this is stunning," he said, his frustration abating. He sounded almost in awe. The subject matter was certainly questionable, but that wasn't of concern. "Your artistic detail is… beyond expectations." How on earth was the Octillery able to produce art this detailed with his newly developed tentacles, but still drop and shatter glasses?

He looked up from the paper. "You know what? I believe we can work with this. Come, let's do a bit of role-play, shall we? We'll practice, while I guide you on what to do."

♫ Pure Class


Cadbury pulled out a chair at one of the Dining Room's empty tables, and slipped himself into the seat. "Stand here," he guided Jean-Georges, pulling him into position near the table. "Have your notepad at the ready. Now, for the purposes of this training, I will be the customer. After you ask the customer if they're ready to order, they will list items from the menu that they want," he said, opening the menu and pointing the tip of his claw to the list of entrées.

"If you cannot write it down, what I would like you to do is sketch a picture of each dish the customer asks for. Keep it speedy, no time for full details, as they'll be speaking quickly, and you'll want to keep up. Understood? Let's practice, then."

The badger turned toward the table, quickly getting himself into character as a customer. A refined customer, of course. He picked a couple entrees from the list, and turned his attention back to the waiter. "I'd like to order the Stuffed Mushrooms, and the Wedge Caesar Salad, to start." The latter was an odd kind of salad, more artsy than practical: a quarter slice of a head of iceberg lettuce, not at all shredded, presented as-is on the plate. With all the proper dressings, of course. Including bacon!

"And then, once you have those sketched, you'd move on to the next customer." Cadbury rises from his seat and quickly transitions into the next chair to the left, acting as a second customer. "I'll have the Grilled Corn on the Cob, please."

After giving Jean-Georges and his quick-moving pen sufficient time to sketch, Cadbury rises from his chair, and also out of character. "May I see how you did? Again, I'm not judging you on art, I just want it to be speedy and recognizable to our chef."

​

 

[Ihsaan]

/**
* BUN T
* TIME: 7:00 PM
* SEASONING: NULL
* UTENSILS: NULL
* CHARGE: 100%
* MISSION: "Entertain the Guests."
* PREVIOUS POST
* NEXT POST
/**

FULLY CHARGED AND READY TO WORK.

Bun T just wants to entertain.

---

Surveying the bustling restaurant in front of him, Bun felt a great heaviness in his non-existent heart. Indecision.

WHICH ONE OF THESE SNOBS DO I 'ENTERTAIN' FIRST. ALL OF THEM LOOK ABSOLUTELY APPALLING.

He let out the closest he could to a sigh and began weighing his options out. The waitstaff were briefed about the event beforehand, so B.T knew each guest's name. Another factor that concerned the Rotom was-

WHY DO THEY HAVE TO BE HERE. WHY. WHY. WHY. WHY-

The Spook Troop. The PRG. The people who so graciously adjusted him to the world. The same people who has been sending him bills for the one month he stayed there. He would have paid them if it were not for the fact that it would cost him half a year's salary. Half a year's salary for-

I SHOULD HAVE KNOW. I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN. I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN.

Anyways, he had to get the job done. Other than the Troopers and the VIPs, his fellow wait staff were present. Cadbury, ever so efficiently attending to poor Jean. The movement of the newly-evolved Pokemon's tentacles reminded B.T of a rather queer human book he had come across. Human anatomy was-

FOCUS. I HAVE TO WORK. ENTERTAIN THE GUESTS, ENTERTAIN-

Alright. The three closest guests to him were Delmonico, Kreuther and Perry. He decided to talk to the Lawyer first, for two reasons. One, the Kabutops looked more like a serial killer than a nurse. Two, he noticed his extravagant co-worker, Vissi, had been eyeing the pianist with questionable intent. He had no desire to alienate her, despite how painfully irritating she may be.
He rose to meet Perry's eye level, and made his way towards his guest.

THE LAWYER IT IS. I WONDER HOW THAT THING COULD EVEN MANAGE TO GET ITSELF INTO THOSE DISGUSTINGLY GAUDY CLOTHES. HOW DOES ONE GET THE JURY'S APPROVAL WEARING THAT. I MEAN-

The sparking body of the living light bulb cast a bright blue-green light across her cheery looking face.

"Greetings, Miss Perry. I am glad that you could make it to our Anniversary Ball. My name is B.T and I am part of our establishment's wait staff. If there is anything I can do to help you, be sure to ask. I hope you will enjoy your time with us."

The Rotom nervously waited for a response.

 

[Ech]

TODAY'S SPECIAL
Lemon Meringue Pie ❤ ​

I ​

​

-----

For a moment, Vissi was left to ponder -- initially she began assessing her options, but her mind began to dwell on the irksome figures that surrounded her and any semblance of assurance quickly derailed into indecisiveness. She began articulating her introspection as a solidified image to recompose herself and used this vivid mental block as a ward against these strangers; their large numbers invoked a dreadful feeling of being overwhelmed by something beyond her control and it was this fear that impeded her judgment. Evidently, she realized she had no other choice but to paddle through the thick smog exuded from the lively Poison-types who frequently tended to this tumbledown buffet out on the outskirts of the city. Rancid fumes crept up her delicate nostrils and her eyes were slanted in a permanent squint, presenting her comportment with a rather disdainful expression; of course, her countenance wasn't exactly dissonant with her mood. Though she had no desire to meddle with any of these rowdy inebriates, she silently observed them and instinctively compared their crude dispositions to the lesser-life forms occasionally found creeping across the floor as black specks. The prattling gradually grew from being notably bothersome to empty ambiance as she and her friend finally reached the counter for their seats, setting themselves in place for a routinely banter for their last girls' night out.

-----

All the tittle-tattle spouted from Vissi's pudgy friend were utterly drowned out, as the majority of Vissi's attention were expended to scrutinize the handsome features of a lone scarab in the corner -- expressly male, judging by the shape of his burly horn -- and mentally remarked on his robust exoskeleton shaded in indigo under the dim lights of this bar. Yet most noteworthy to Vissi were the emotions of confusion and misery conveyed by this specimen's visage; she personified this random Heracross as an individual struggling with disappointment and it was a sentiment Vissi empathized with. After drawing a few more imaginary comparisons, her fascination grew into a manic obsession, and Vissi unremittingly wondered why she wasn't being approached by this kindred spirit she decided to envision in her own head. The longer she stared and awaited for an arbitrary exchange, the more distorted this Bug-type Pokémon grew in appearance -- his horn melted onto his face as this yellow liquid, appendages changed shapes and sizes, and long white hair surged out the back along with a monstrous tail. It would have led to a nightmarish experience had it not been for Vissi's friend reeling her back to reality by expressly alerting her.

-----

" You interested in that stud over there or what? " the pink stout sprite snickered at her friend's outlandish behavior, all while she frivolously spun around on her stool. " V, babe, you've been grilling at that guy for like a full thirty -- maybe, you outta tone down a notch before he gets the wrong idea, hun! "

-----

Vissi broke out of her trance and rested her large fins onto the counter, and leaned against its surface to relax herself. She scowled at her friend, though the pinniped didn't intend to direct her frustration at her friend who predictably flinched from the abrupt gesture. After realizing that she startled her friend, Vissi let out a heavy scoff as she plopped her head onto the counter, its corrugated surface momentarily stinging her skin with its cool touch. She began quietly humming a simple tune to combat against the droning noises of this squalid environment. The clear liquid contained within her glass which had been served to her while she was profusely fantasizing was gently suspended into the air and her mundane melody constructed its body into various shapes, all dancing accordingly to the rhythm. The Slurpuff recovered from her prior shock as she witnessed her associate's distress, all while trying to ignore her spontaneous musical fountain. She dropped her lackadaisical demeanor and sat proper, though she had her gaze set onto the counter rather than on her troubled peer. She adjusted her stool by cranking on a lever located underneath the pad, gaining extra height so she could reach her own beverage that was placed on the counter next to Vissi's own refreshment.

-----

" Have you heard about this place called Precious Paradise? " she prevaricated, making a desperate attempt to illicit a conversation with gossip to ease the tension. " It's a fancy spa run by one of those sexy Milotic. It's down by that little quirky town -- I'm sure ya know the place! And, uh, if you're willing to spend a little extra on the side, you could even bathe with the owner! Like, oh la la! " The Slurpuff took a glance at her companion after finishing delivering her saucy tidbit, taking notice that the blonde seal refused to react to even a single word. The chubby macaroon-shaped fairy slumped into her seat, unable to hold in a pout out of frustration.

-----

After exchanging a painfully elongated moment of awkward silence save for the humming and the chatter from the background, Vissi decided to interject with an inquiry; the moment she began to use her normal voice, the liquid carried out of her glass dropped back into its former spot and the sound of its splash conveniently caught the Slurpuff's attention. " Fawn, how come you haven't expired yet? "

-----

" Um, pardon? " she responded with a perplexed gaze, " Please elaborate on that query, V. "

-----

" The smell, " Vissi specified as she turned to face her friend, " it's horrible, downright rank even. Isn't your nose highly sensitive to odors, or did I mishear the details on your species? Regardless, why on Earth are we spending our last night here? "

-----

" Oh, well. I know this place is a bit, shall I say, cruder than the usual stands we normally attend to. But, uh, well, I thought you might want some place that's quieter -- you know, where we can be nobodies so we don't have to worry about getting harassed by fans? Or as you like to call them, sycophants. The atmosphere here is pretty jazzy, and -- even though everybody looks like they wanna mug you and your children -- the locals here are quite lax about your business, so they never go out of their way to bother you. " Fawn carefully held her glass but her stubby arms could only keep a grip long enough for the Slurpuff to indulge in a quick sip before placing it back onto the counter as to avoid dropping her drink. " But the smell IS horrendous, though. I'm just a tough girl -- ya know me, V! I mean, I had to spend most of my energy pounding on my belly just to give our songs that beat! " She patted her belly proudly, though the act inadvertently caused her to expel out a tiny burp which was followed by a sheepish apology which was met with a giggle from Vissi. " Anyway! What's really on in that head of yours? " she decided to confront Vissi directly, " Don't you go worrying about me -- spill, girl! Lil' Fawn's got your back! "

-----

" It's just, here we are, my last day in this city, " Vissi broke her gaze with Fawn and turned to examine her glass, observing the tiny bubbles floating on top, " I contemplated on leaving this place for so long, and now I'm finally going to leave everything behind to start anew. And quite frankly, I couldn't be any more ecstatic for such a change.

-----

" And? " Fawn eagerly awaited for a continuation.

-----

" And, well. I found that coming to this decision was somehow a little too easy and even anti-climatic, " Vissi broke her gaze with Fawn and turned to examine her glass, observing the tiny bubbles floating on top, " I've never made any effort to hide my ire for this accursed career and how it ultimately inhibited me as a talented individual, yet I won't deny the fame had its special privileges and I would surely miss having that luxury. I mean, am I being a callous fool by tossing away all of this? She expressed an expression of doubt at her own question. " Perhaps, I should stay a little longer. I've yet to truly immortalize myself as an icon, and this city is being absurdly generous by granting me such a grand opportunity. "

-----

" V, babe! I already booked a ticket for you! " Fawn yowled in irritation, " Plus, the guy I talked to will be expecting your arrival so you can work at his fancy bistro as one of them SEXY waitresses. Not to mention, pretty sure Grody's not gonna let you back into the band anyway. Ya know, considering-- "

-----

" I know, you don't need to repeat it to me. " Vissi leaned back, inexplicably growing an urge to stare back at that Heracross she was eyeing earlier. " You know, are you able to tell me more about this place and the folks who run it? "

-----

" The Slurpuff began to inexplicably vibrate in her seat, seemingly out excitement regarding the matter. Oh, do I! " Fawn exclaimed avidly, " Oh, my gosh! Carmine is like the sweetest dork you'll ever know! Sure, he can be a bit captious, but that's basically his job as the manager! I would cut him some slack, given he's a decrepit little bird who could probably shrivel up and die from even a Snorunt's Icy Wind! Like, I actually don't know how old he is? He's probably ancient, but uh, don't tell him I said that! In fact, you probably shouldn't mention his age at all, if we're being honest. Also, you should make sure when he tells you to clean out that Coat Check, you don't-- "

-----

" Huh, okay. Interesting. " Vissi eventually succumbed to her temptation and she once again found herself staring blankly at that abashed Bug-type sitting in the corner, seemingly reveling in his solitude. And just like before, this Pocket Monster gradually deformed into some eldritch abomination the longer Vissi's eyes stayed on his figure, that tough exterior melting away into this soft yellow sludge that began dripping onto the floor, seeping across the wooden planks in a manner that made it seem like it was sentient. This substance, which erratically changed in color, began to saturate everyone and everything around Vissi and the entire bistro she and her friend were in began to change as well -- some of this substance even crawled onto her, constricting itself around her neck and fins as green binds. The daunting process coerced Vissi to momentarily shut her eyes to escape this travesty, and after re-opening them, she was met with an entirely different location as well as a new face in replacement of the Heracross she was so fascinated with.

-----

Vissi had not realized she had been staring at one of the guests at the foyer during her entire reminiscence, and given some of her co-workers had already taken up on their tasks, it was most likely for an uncomfortable amount of time. She immediately recognized the personage by their trademark glasses among other traits; Vissi happened to be a fan of Delmonico's work, going as far as to say that he may have even influenced her own productions. It wasn't clear to her if this woolly yellow pianist or even the others took notice to Vissi's elongated glare. Regardless, she refused to allow herself to look abashed in front of another maestro, and in attempt to avoid any chances for a bungling scene that would tarnish her integrity, Vissi decided to hastily make her way to the Coat Check room to avoid prompting interaction; cleaning out the Coat Check was the only job Vissi could remember among the various tasks received from Carmine.

-----

Yet, she quickly realized she had no reason to feel ashamed. After all, she herself was once a beloved celebrity too and she subsequently recalled the countless number of Pokémon who were willing to do anything in order to gain her attention, even if brief. Delmonico's state of Mega Evolution -- a phenomenon she was aware of, but personally unfamiliar with -- accentuated his dazzling features, and this intrigued Vissi just enough that she could muster up the courage to confront him directly; at the very least, she saw no valid reason to avoid a formal salutation. As she flopped towards the Coat Check room, Vissi delivered a playful smirk in her maladroit attempt to excuse her inexplicably long gaze earlier. She purposely stalled herself in hopes of invoking some sort of reaction from this stunning snack.

Spoiler:

 

[Who's Kiyo?]

-----

Seeing her necklace in tatters mutated Rivage's expression into one of sullen shock, but after a moment of reeling, the horse spoke in a completely unfazed tone. "You will most certainly be getting a tip," she enticed, "once you go into that supply closet and pick out a wrench or whatever you need to bust open that pipe for my gems." The Rapidash smiled blankly, and whipped her hair back. "I'll be strolling around the auction, feel free to come right up when you need to know how you're supposed to string it back together."

-----

Without another word, the woman picked herself up and exited the lavatory.​

-----

Jean-Georges enjoyed the spectacle of his silky friend jumping from seat to seat doing impressions of the guests. He wasn't entirely sure why the badger insisted he doodle during the improvisations, but he was happy to oblige and present his work when requested:

Spoiler:

-----

The Octillery pointed to the logo at the top of a menu, and shot Cadbury a joyful look while wiggling his tentacles. He hoped his sketch provided ample payment for the theatrics.​

-----

The Barbaracle in question looked up from fiddling with her gloves and searched around herself, trying to pin down where the voice had come. A reactionary, shrill squeal of glee came out of her when she noticed the pint-sized waiter. "I most certainly will if all the guests are as scrumptious as you, sweetie!" she said, the complement giving anyone sitting nearby hyperglycemia.

-----

"Hm, maybe you're a bit on the robotic side, but I've never been one to insult others for the way they talk!" she lightly critiqued, extending her ensuing chuckle a little longer than one should. "I'll have you know that Carmine is a very personal friend of mine, and never - not once - have I ever, ever said anything bad about that beautiful accent he has. Ah, if only my pipes expressed as much joie de vivre."

-----

She cleared her throat and her voice became slightly polluted with frustration. "Speaking of our mutual friend, I'd like you to deliver a message to him: that, well, I'm here, and I know this fundraiser hootenanny is happening, but I'd like to be seated as soon as possible," she mentioned firmly, "actually, I'll write it down for him, it'll be an official request." The Collective Pokemon searched for an item, but after a minute of patting herself down, her eyes grew wild with panic. Standing up and gawking at her empty seat only exacerbated the problem.

-----

"Oh no, no, no," she whispered, "sweetie - yes, sweetie - I need you find me something, very, very fast." She looked around and informed the Rotom of something quietly.​

-----

Delmonico slowly turned his head, a trail of pampered wool bouncing behind him, and stopped when his gaze met the beady eyes of Carmine. Gripping his cane, the Ampharos bore a blissful smile as he strolled right past Vissi.

-----

So focused on his conversation with the maître d', he neglected to hear the loud crash that came from the Coat Check. Carmine did hear it, however, and shot a glare of impatience at the seal.​

 

[Afterglow Ampharos]

♫ Ergo


After having a look at what Jean-Georges had produced, the butler sighed a long breath. "Your talents are wasted here, my friend," he muttered. If Finer Things hadn't such a full evening in front of them, he would have recommended Jean-Georges puts this skill to use redesigning the logo or decorating the menus. Perhaps another time.

Cadbury lifted his eyes from the splendid drawing to the slow-witted cephalopod. "I'm afraid we're not communicating effectively, Jean-Georges." He already knew the Octillery was mute, but he hadn't known until now just how poorly he understood spoken language, as well.

He hated to "dumb things down" for anyone, as it insulted their intelligence as well as his own, not to mention it looked somewhat unprofessional… But he'd have to make the sacrifice.

"Rather, I don't think you're understanding me." Cadbury tried his best to give Jean-Georges a patient look, though he wasn't really feeling similar. "I am teaching you how to be a waiter. You have seen the others and I being a waiter, yes?" He gestured to a table that actually had some customers sitting in it. "We ask the customers what food and drink they want, and we write it down on paper."

He had an internal moment of doubt. How can he possibly do this if he can neither speak nor understand? Neither ask for, nor parse the orders? How will he even know what the customers are ordering? Did Carmine seriously not consider this? Why must I be put up to impossible tasks?

"That's what I want you to do. It's fine if you draw what food they want instead of write it down, but you still need draw what they ask for on paper. Do you think you can try that?"

When the Octillery seemed to understand all that, Cadbury cast his gaze across the Dining Room, settling on a Wurmple sitting by himself. "Let me show you what to do," he said, taking a tentacle in his claws and leading Jean-Georges to a table near the patio.

"Good evening, sir," Cadbury said in introduction to the Wurmple in his fancy feathered band. The Linoone held his lapel in the paw unoccupied by tentacle-suckers, pulling up his posture. "I hope you're having a pleasant evening. My quiet co-worker here is in training to be a waiter, I don't suppose you'd be willing to help him practice? I'd like to show him how it's done, while accounting for his language barrier. All you'd really need to do is order a dish and exercise some patience."

Lots of patience.

​

 

[Your Daily Vitamins]

D A I Q U I R I
"12 Seconds A Slave"
THE SALAZZLE

---

MISSION: Bathroom Attendant || ICON: Bringin' home the Bacon || EARNED: $0

---

----

Daiquiri peeled her one eye back and the corners of her mouth pinched out as she nearly broke her neck looking offended. This quadrupedal customer clopped out of the bathroom on a sour note. All of the entitlement in that one was just enough of an indicator on how the night was going to go.

----

"Okay," Daquiri said to no one, alone. No second thought, she turned her hand flat out and let all the beads fall on the bathroom counter, some of them rolling into the overflowing sudsy sink. "Because I mucking look like the mucking plumber," she started to spit, hands up and wig vibrating. "Because I hold a towel so I can wipe the horse dook off your flaming ass. Because you think you can hold nice things in your dry clunky brick hooves. Ooooh, I am about to go Primeape up in this." She furiously scrubbed her hands and washed her face of all her make up - green shadow, eyeliner, penciled eyebrows and even flushed out her stray eyelash - before scooping up a big thing of bubbles and splashing it on the smudged mirror to soak the green stain.

----

She whipped around back to the offending stall, reached up, and tugged her hanging damp towel down. But just before leaving the toilet, she lifted her foot and slammed her heel angrily onto the trip lever, several times, attempting to flush down the lost crystals out of total, selfish spite. The clogged toilet started to overflow and the trip lever slacked in a way it wasn't supposed to. So she slammed the stall door shut, walked over to the sink, and rubbed the mirror as close to clean as she could. Rinsing out her towel, she rung it out before holding it up by the corners and blew a thin stream of fire over it. Immense steam sizzled off as she continued to dry it this way. Her technique worked remarkably well, although she overdid it a little and ended up singing some of the fine cloth. At least it was clean and dry.

----

A few minutes passed as Daiquiri washed out the sink of its towering bubbles, wiped down the counter with paper towels from the mounted dispenser, and pulled out her makeup compactor from her jacket to redo her look. When she was finished, she scooped up all the crystal beads and put them into an empty little glass bowl that the attendant bag provided. Taking her blue eyebrow pencil and a folded up square of paper towel, she quickly wrote on it:

SCENTED REAL CRYSTAL BEADS 2 FOR 25.​

----

She took one of the provided perfumes on the counter and generously spritzed the beads, before pushing that bottle to the back of the cluster of toiletries to keep it hidden. Then she wrote underneath of the ad a "PAY TO" and drew a little arrow pointing to the left, where she promptly stood, towel in hand.

----

"I'm not leaving this spot until my time is up," the Salazzle sassed by herself. "Not even an hour and these trifflin' little - mmf. I will make my money tonight."

---

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

---

 

[Ech]

TODAY'S SPECIAL
Acqua di Cristallo​

II ​

​

-----

An unanticipated return to her cues - or rather, the lack thereof - left Vissi both awed and bothered. Seldom was she ignored in public, and she drew a comparison to those moments strolling the streets of her former city; often would she skirmish with the demands of an audience hungry for spectacle and thus she never truly got used to being neglected like this. Her gaze couldn't help but continue to stalk the golden bipedal, his long flowing fleece serving as a lure for her eyes. How could he not notice me? How dare he not notice me! Why, I couldn't have made it any more easy for him! Vissi ranted incessantly to herself in private, and during her search for an adequate explanation, she nearly missed the hostile glance given by her manager. Holding a brief moment of incertitude, the thunderous roar that emanated from the room behind her was enough to put her mind back on track, and in response, she made haste. As her fins glided across the floor, she briefly scanned the contents scrawled on a chalkboard before entering the compartment.

-----

Inside the enclosed space which was dimly lit, Vissi was met with a surreal exhibit of decorative raiment, some were freshly stowed while others were crudely sprawled out across the floor in complete disarray. It was very evident that the Coat Check wasn't manned by anyone prior, and what was once seen as a simple chore for the former star suddenly required the same effort needed for an extensive spring-cleaning. Vissi awkwardly swam through thick heaps of rags that were saturated in fragrance. Enduring a farrago of branded perfumes and colognes, she combed through the items to uncover the source of the crash. The accumulation of gewgaws in the back end of the room was an issue Vissi felt that was criminally overlooked, so she had no reason to feign shock upon discovering an entire mass had caved onto the floor, infectiously bleeding into the pile of possessions deposited by tonight's guests. The entire plight evoked an elongated groan that expressly sang aggravation. After regaining her composure, she decided to separate the forsaken knickknacks from the guests' belongings as a start.

-----

No, this won't do at all, Vissi discerned a few but severe impediments regarding her pelagic physique. The most she could do was oafishly smack a few things around with her floppy fins or gently shove clothes with her snout albeit at a sluggish pace. After exposing her nostrils to pungent residue left on some garments, Vissi stood up straight and meekly howled out her frustration, being conscientious about her volume as not to alarm others of her ordeal. She was visibly upset but most of her ire stemmed from embarrassment at her own physical shortcoming as a legless Water-type. Vissi knew she had to resort to her voice if there was any hope on clearing this entire room, but she was rather uneasy about using her talent for menial work. Such a mockery, she derided herself as she cleared her throat in preparation. She jokingly painted the contents of this jumbled storage as the faces of a submissive audience, in an attempt to both humor herself with satire and to ease some tension through nostalgia. But rather than a song, only a tiny rasp managed to crawl out her orifice. Perplexed, she swirled her tongue around inside her mouth and noticed a disturbing lack of saliva. It was clear to her that she was too parched to rely on her aptitude as a sea dweller. Perhaps all this stress dehydrated her, or she carelessly forgot to drink any fluids before work. Regardless, she was thirsty and that was a problem.

-----

Not even a full minute had passed when Vissi slithered out of the room and back into the foyer. Though she just needed to quench herself, simply asking someone for a glass of water seemed far too silly for her uppish standards. Rather, she decided to practice independence and scampered towards the bar in her search for some refreshment.

Spoiler:

 

[Ihsaan]

/**
* BUN T
* TIME: 7:00 PM
* SEASONING: NULL
* UTENSILS: NULL
* CHARGE: 100%
* MISSION: "Assist Perry the Lawyer."
* PREVIOUS POST
* NEXT POST
/**

I AM LITERALLY THE WORST POKEMON TO BE IN AN ORCHARD.

Bun T just wants to help the hideous lawyer.

---

B.T was a little miffed at the horrific lawyer's remarks on his stature and tone-

GAHHHHH. WHO DOES SHE THINK SHE IS. THE WENCH IS JUST JEALOUS OF MY SUPERIOR BODY. ALSO WHAT IS THE POINT OF EMOTION IN YOUR VOICE. SHE SEEMS TO EXPRESS ENOUGH EMOTION FOR THE ENTIRE RESTAURANT. I DON'T CARE ABOUT MY VOICE. I DON'T CARE-

Well, perhaps he cared just a little bit. Anyways, his anger was not enough to dissuade him from doing the job, he had far worse experiences prior.

OH NO. THE PERSONALITY TEST. GET IT OUT OF MY HEAD. PLEASE. PLE-

For some reason, he pitied the boisterous Barabaracle as she whispered her request to him. In that small moment of intimacy she revealed her true nature, a whimpering and timid creature. Her facade seemed to be a mode of escape for her, a way to convince herself that she is not weak or afraid. Perhaps Bun was looking too far into it. Maybe he was just confused that an individual able to express their true self would not do so.

WHAT A WASTE. TIME TO HELP THE POOR LADY. TO THE ORCHARD.

"Absolutely Miss, I'll be right on my way. Thank you for your time,"

He had two options; exit through the foyer or exit through the back alley. Both routes were around the same distance, but he chose the latter. It gave him the benefit of greeting all the guests. Due to his 'scrumptious' stature, he was able to navigate swiftly through his guests while at the same time giving them the same pre-recorded pleasantries over and over.

"Greetings, I hope you are enjoying yourself?"

"Good day sir."

"Please enjoy yourself ma'am."

Every time he saw a face he blurted one of these umpteen lines out, he did not even bother to register their faces. He however, did notice his co-workers hard at work, which motivated him. He even passed by Cadbury and Jean hard at work…..drawing? Not letting this confusion impede him he gave them both brisk nods, or rather, the best nods he could muster and floated over the bar.

NOW. WHERE IS THAT DAMN HEIRLOOM

B.T walked to the orchard and began surveying the ground, looking for telltale glints.

THIS IS GOING TO TAKE A WHILE. AUDIBLE SIGH FOLLOWED BY DEAFENING SCREAM IN MY HEAD. OUCH. I SHOULD NOT HAVE YELLED THAT LOUD.

 

[Who's Kiyo?]

-----

Morimoto scanned every inch of their underwhelming ensemble as the badger spoke. With a condescending roll of the eyes, the Wurmple retreated into the comforting amber of his champagne. "Hundred upon hundred of dollar - for reservation alone - and it me who need patience?" he tutted through - at least what sounded to be - gritted teeth, "lucky for tentacle man he no my employee; I would eat him alive. I had 'language barrier' - I got through - why no he?"

-----

The caterpillar downed the last gulp of his drink and sighed. "Yes, very good - one drink more, whatever in glass - include dessert." He analyzed his hunger by tasting his own spit. "All of the dessert."​

-----

Aureole had been staring into her grimy compact for what felt like hours - but in reality was only a couple of minutes since she exited one of the stalls - as the Salazzle effortlessly reapplied her eccentric look and went about her duties. The mushroom chewed the corner of her lip in irritation when she failed, again, to properly use the eyeliner pencil in her trembling hand. She huffed and, without meeting the girl's eyes, resigned herself to asking for assistance.

-----

"I see that you're ... better at this sort of thing than I am," she said, indicting her face with a noncommittal wave, "normally I wouldn't bother; I mean, who do I have to impress? All these stuffed shirt cretins walking around, thinking they're who history will write about and ... well, gotta show them wrong in a language they'll understand; I'm sure you can sympathize." She picked up her bag of cosmetics. "Help me out?"​

-----

A loud "psssst" came from a certain Stunky as the employee past by her. "Hey toots," she called, "you dropped this ... oh, oh-oh-oh, what is this?" Claudette stared intently at the note before crumpling it up and tossing it to the seal.

-----

"Care to explain?" she quipped, stretching out a mischievous grin and raising her camera.​

-----

As B.T. investigated near the side of the building, he caught a glimpse of the window to the Coat Check slamming shut before a dented part of the rain gutter above him suddenly snapped and let loose an engulfing stream water on top of his head.​

-

New Player. Jauntier's Bailey will be represented with the Vegetable (Carrot) Icon.

It is now 7:10 PM​

 

[Jauntier]

[CSS-DIV=width: 900px; height: 650px; padding: 30px 30px 10px 30px; background-color: white; color: black; border-color: #C5E1A2; border-style: double; border-width: 5px; border-radius: 10px; font-family: Dosis;]

BAILEY
🐦 • 🐞 • 🐦 • 🐰 • 🐦 • 🐞 • 🐦
Smile, and others will smile back.

📌 I. Storage​

A warm glow illuminated the face of a Ralts from under his chin. In the darkness, the hooded oil lantern flickered, as the soft-edged light revealed the tall dusty racks of red wines, their labels printed with foreign names and listed years from an age when those were well-kept numbers. With sharp, darting eyes and a small, unwavering smile, the Ralts held the lantern by the base as best as his little palms could as he took in every visual reminder to recall his path back out of the vintage labyrinth. While he internally counted the paces before every turn in the large, dark room, he kept close behind the leading Spinda custodian.

"Mister PJ," Bailey began, the voice of a young babe out of the Ralts' mouth, "I wasn't aware that we kept relics from the original establishment down in the Cold Storage. Was there no concern that the temperature would damage paints or sculptures made from certain materials? Especially with how warm the weather is, or even up in the dining area for the auction, do you foresee a problem?"

"A'course I do, kid," the Spinda affirmed, in that plain yet jocular way of his. "... Carmine never been much of a history buff, if you get m'meaning."

As they made yet another turn, a stagnant chill caressed the boy's skin. They were not far from the presence of the Cold Storage.

"Mister PJ," the Ralts began again, a faint cloud of condensation wafting off his words. "What was it like, the church? What was their vision? What did they stand for?"

"Oh, it was run by a good lot of fellas; nice farmers who locked themselves up all day to pray for their souls," PJ mused, "way, way back this city was a wee baby of civilization: dirt roads, candles lighting everything, all the old things. People back then didn't have much to do, so they feared critters they mistook as gods." PJ took a puff of the Sunsteel Strike between his fingers. "Either that or make 'em up. This one's ticket was the Wishmaker, and I'll give you three guesses as to what he did."

"He… made wishes… come true," was the deliberate answer. His and PJ's lanterns finally fell upon a great steel door, its handle wrapped in chains, from which dangled an unclipped padlock. The single viewing window reflected their light right back in a white glint as anything the glass didn't catch was caught by the thin sheet of frost that clung behind it.

The Spinda was caught off guard when his hand slipped from the cold handle and the door opened of its own accord. Or rather, on the whim of Lombardi, who was revealed to be on the inside of the freezer. Both sides gave a confused, passive nod at each other before the Typhlosion squeezed past the duo with her own lamp.

Chef Lombardi? Bailey thought. He followed behind the Spinda as they crossed the threshold into the freezing grasp of the Cold Storage. As they passed the tall deep freezers installed early in the giant walk-in, the Ralts let an observation set in his mind: while indeed this room keeps perishable foods considerably iced to use as fresh fodder for services, the head chef left with none.
​

STATUS

[/CSS-DIV]​

 

[Your Daily Vitamins]

D A I Q U I R I
"Oh yeah, I beat a face"
THE SALAZZLE

---

MISSION: Bathroom Attendant || ICON: Bringin' home the Bacon || EARNED: $0

---

----

She raised a penciled-in eyebrow as this dried, veiny mushroom shambled up to her with her head down. For a brief second, Daiquiri's eyes widened as she thought OH DAMN BUT SHE WAS HERE THE WHOLE TIME, WHAT ABOUT MY MAGIC CRYSTAL SCAM, DO I GOTTA CHANGE UP MY RAP, but as the Pokemon began lamenting about the social affair, the Salazzle actually tuned in. She glanced over to the side with a thoughtful expression. Yeah, she could do more than sympathize, the image flashed in her mind of a towering pink beast, glaring down over an untouched plate of berries at the kitchen table. Blinking it away, she nodded.

----

"Yeah, golly, hon. I totally get it." She popped a squat to get a better look at the downed mushroom's face. She tried not to recoil back in shock at the shaky scribble around the Pokemon's unsettling and sunken pitch-black gaps that resembled a simple, frowning face. Daiquiri had never seen this species of Pokemon before, and wondered if it was just age or if they all had this browned shade to a dimly-glowing phosphorous skin of wrinkles and dark spots. But by the marks on her face and the way the Pokemon's head and hands constantly trembled, this was a much older Pokemon. Daiquiri remembered others back in her hometown, the way the elderly trembled just the same as they crossed the bank into the warm river, where their children and other charitable townspeople would help them bathe and wash off the sweat and desert sands.

----

"I can deffo beat out a hot look for you, like, you're right to come to me," the Salazzle chirped with a smug look, as she reached up over the counter and plucked up a wet wipe. "But I'm just a bathroom attendant, and the only make-up I got is from my personal stash, so if you wanna look extra, ya gotta pay extra, mmk?" She started to wipe the rogue liner mark off the elder Pokemon's face. "So howboudah?"

----

"Oh," she continued, cocking her head over to the counter, "and we're selling scented crystal beads. Yeah. They were donated to us. Get the Mothimball smell off your clothes. Suck out wack vibes. Don't get your karma bent and all that. Buy them all and make a necklace out've 'em. 25 a pop, Qui-Qui givin' y'all the BEST deals, ya yaaa, you tryna get some? I know you are, cuz you not tryna cube it with them squares tonight. Get 'em."

---

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

---

 

[Ech]

TODAY'S SPECIAL
Vellum​

III ​

​

-----

Before she return a response to an aloof murmur, Vissi flinched and came to an abrupt halt when a crumbled ball of paper pelted her cheek. The note rebounded and softly rolled across the floor in the direction of its thrower, stopping after a short distance. Vissi reached out with her fin, scooping litter off the ground. Her gaze had discovered a sneer and this venomous expression accompanied with that accursed black box filled the Water-type with unease. Her attention drew to the note that was softly held in her grasp, its content still sealed within its scrunched up condition. She carefully unraveled the piece to uncover its message and grew scandalized once she finished reading it.

-----

Vissi broke away from the skunk, her intentions hinted with malice, and she slithered hastily towards the bar, carrying the parchment with her and trying to mask her fret with a look of gall. As she neared the stand, she noticed no one was behind the stick to serve her a refreshment. Mildly irked, she decided to simply help herself and tend to one of the spotless salvers placed idly on the stand, neatly brimmed with an assortment of drinks and appetizers. Despite the wide variety, it didn't seem like there was any plain water for the seal. After taking a seat, Vissi decided to take a wine glass with something clear and discreetly grazed a few samples from the colorful selection, unable to help herself from indulging in a brief collation. Though she turned her attention to the back end of this stand, Vissi could still feel that skunk eyeballing her from behind; she presumed this Poison-type was still stalking her, taunting her for the wretched note Vissi received.

-----

Does that slattern know who I am? Vissi compulsively thought to herself, locking out the rest of the world for her rumination. Just leave me alone, I'm not in the mood to be dealing with paps tonight. She prayed to herself that for that pianist, through happenstance, to approach her during her moment of wallowing in woe.

Spoiler:

 

[Ihsaan]

/**
* BUN T
* TIME: 7:10 PM
* SEASONING: NULL
* UTENSILS: NULL
* CHARGE: 30%
* MISSION: "Find a device and/or the heirloom."
* PREVIOUS POST
* NEXT POST
/**

BLUB. BLUB. BLUB. I THINK THAT'S HOW YOU DROWN.

Bun T just wants to survive.

---

The loud snap of the dilapidated gutter was followed by the heavy gushing of rain water onto an unaware Bun. Water was not good for the Rotom, especially water filled with impurities. The charge stored within the light bulb began leaving it swiftly and discharged through the murky liquid. Due to the heat produced by this potent electricity, some of the liquid began to steam away, but the broken gutter seemed to be the gift that never stopped giving.

THE IRONY. IT IS AS THOUGH THE RAIN WATER IS TAKING REVENGE FOR ALL ITS WATER BRETHREN THAT HAVE FALLEN TO THE ELECTRIC-TYPES. WHY ARE MY THOUGHTS POETIC. I FEEL. I FEEL WEAK. VISION. FADING-

His body began flickering erratically and drooped lower and lower. He flew out of the bulb in a bid to save his life. The custom-made bulb fell down onto the grass and thankfully, did not break. Although he did go through therapy with the PRG, too much time outside a device still makes him very uneasy. Frantically, the Rotom began flashing around the vast orchard, looking for a pen and another device to possess. No matter how weak he would get, he wouldn't go back in without results.

DAMN THAT LAWYER. WHY COULD SHE NOT SATISFY HER URGE TO CAUSE PAIN TO ANOTHER MON BY SAY EXTORTING MONEY FROM POOR CLIENTS. THAT'S WHAT NORMAL LAWYERS DO. I FEEL WEAK. NEED TO FIND A DEVICE. NEED TO FIN-

The more he continued his desperate search, the lower his body drooped. If he did not find a device in time, he would pass out. Hopefully, it would not come to that. The glass body he had abandoned slowly bobbed in the pool of disgusting water.

WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME THEY CLEANED THE GUTTER. I MUST ASK PJ-

Mundane thoughts always helped B.T keep calm.