The once-grand theater known as The Orpheum was definitely low on Haru’s list of places he ordinarily liked to visit - most of the time he would much rather be exploring the dangerous parts of the city to test his mettle or traveling the wilderness beyond Aether’s walls in search of cool Pokémon to add to his team but here he sat in one of the old theater’s seats regardless of that, his still unhatched Pokémon egg balanced gently in his lap. What could have possibly caused the normally rambunctious sixteen year old to change his mind? Well, for one thing, it was raining outside - and not just drizzling! No, this was a true deluge with big, fat water droplets. It was so severe that even after spending the better part of an hour inside the theater's marble walls the teenager’s coat and hair were still kind of soggy. And while that kind of weather might be fine with Mizune, the other two members of his team absolutely hated it and after running through the mess outside Haru was inclined to agree with the Charmander and Drilbur on that one. Not to mention there was his egg to worry about; what if the water cooled it off and made it even harder or impossible to hatch? Sure, he'd never heard of anything like that actually happening before, but the blue-eyed trainer didn't want to risk it lest he be stuck egg-sitting forever! Yet the first and foremost reason he was seated there today was the one he most hated to admit to anyone:
He really, really wanted to see today’s show.
As a battle-loving Pokémon maniac, Haru was definitely not the artsiest guy around. He drew well enough, sure, but his singing flat-out sucked and plays usually bored the snot out of him. And he was okay with that. Today was different, however, simply due to the particular production playing out on the stage below: The Battle on the Mountain. It was an uncommonly old play based on an ancient legend that supposedly predated the city. In it, two trainers - the very best in the world - faced each other in battle at the top of the world’s highest peak, and in between rounds of fighting the scene would shift to the trainers’ pasts, explaining why they chose this path in life and how they became as good as they were. Both those scenes, charged with the emotions of two trainers who had dedicated their lives to perfecting their skills along with the battles - which could be better, since the Pokémon actors weren’t allowed to use real attacks for fear they would damage the aging theater further - had this modern-day trainer hooked like a Seaking on a fishing line. He idolized those trainers, known not by name but only the eye colors the story gave either of them, and he attended every showing of the play he could because of it. Maybe it was stupid to respect fictional characters as much as he did but hey, no one ever said Haru was smart.
“Alright, here comes the final showdown!” He half-whispered excitedly while leaning forward in his seat to get a better view, one arm wrapped carefully around the egg to keep it from falling while his eyes glittered in anticipation. The unhatched creature was the only Pokémon he had out at the moment, as both Charmander (who stubbornly refused every nickname he threw at him) and Lagann were sleeping right now in the comfort of their pokéballs and Mizune had been banned from being released inside the theater for chewing on the antique furniture last time he was here. Speaking of which, for the final round both of the trainers in the play used their signature Pokémon: Pikachu for the Red-Eyed Trainer and Typhlosion for the Gold-Eyed Trainer. While it would normally look like the Typhlosion had the upper hand due to being fully evolved and significantly stronger, the Pikachu had years more experience in battle and they were always played as equals on stage. In fact, at the end of the battle - spoiler alert! - the stage would fill with smoke, leaving the play’s ending ambiguous. Sometimes it burned Haru not to know who won but it was probably best that it wasn’t clear. Otherwise, there would be something less magical about it, something lost in knowing the definite outcome. Wondering about the different ways each trainer could have won was half the fun of watching this play, and so he watched as sparks and flames once more flew through the air, the scene unfolding before him one that was always familiar but at the same time ever new.
- - - - - it's an inner war we all fight.
Words: 748 Tagging: Anyone - I need these eggs hatched. :'D Notes: The Taillow egg is 2/7 since I moved it here from another thread and the Totodile egg is 1/7. Pokemon in party: Totodile - Mizune - level 5 (in ball) Charmander - No nickname - level 5 (in ball) Drilbur - Lagann - level 8 (in ball) Taillow Egg - ???? - not hatched Totodile Egg - ???? - not hatched/invisible
Post by Lydian Bellecourt on Jun 2, 2012 12:29:42 GMT -5
There were many words people would use to describe Lydian Bellecourt. Creepy could be one of them, along with downright terrifying. Psychopath ranked right up there, as did antisocial and self-destructive. A lot of people said he'd likely end up dead in the gutter, but Lydian liked to disagree with that. He was the kind of person to think that, as much time as he spent in the slums and the shadows, that he wouldn't end up dead there. It was his home. Thinking he would end up dead there was just as absurd as thinking someone would end up dead in their backyard. To him, it was utterly unimaginable. Really, if he was going to die, it would probably be in this old, decrepit building. It was a big place filled with seats, many of which were extremely uncomfortable with the springs tending to stab someone right in the ass, that is, if their stuffing wasn't already spilling out and making the seat impossible to occupy. The structural integrity, he thought when he had taken a cursory examination upon deciding that this place would do for a temporary sleeping place, was already pretty unsound and full of rotting wooden beams. He doubted that it would take much to send the whole thing crashing down, especially since he was living there and he could be rather volatile at times. With his powers, if he was angered, he doubted the place would stand for more than a few months. Still, it would be a pain in the ass to find a new place, so to save himself the trouble, he would try to rein in his temper.
Not that he was thinking about that right now. Right now, Lydian was stretched out across three or four seats in the back row, a black leather jacket - which he'd found abandoned in a row on the second day and pilfered to soften the springs digging into his back - thrown over them. His eyes were closed and his breathing was slow and even with sleep. That's right. Lydian was sleeping right through whatever show was on. He'd found that, after a few days, he was quite adept at managing to knock himself out shortly after the first scene began and awaking again just prior to when the ushers ended up kicking him out. It really did help that most of the attacks were faked now. If he had been in the presense of a battlle where the punches were actually thrown, he probably would have woken up quickly, on edge. It wasn't his fault about that entirely. If anyone was to blame, it was the Houndoom whose blood he had been forced to intake when he was younger. The damn thing's ability, Early Bird, had carried over to him, meaning he was usually a light sleeper and would wake in an instant if something went wrong or if he was threatened. In some cases, it had saved his life, warning him when some dangerous, fully-evolved Pokemon were heading his way, but in others, it was a pain in the ass that prevented him from getting a decent night's sleep when the Flying-Type Pokemon were being particularly loud. It had taken him a few days to get used to the noise of the theatre, but he had managed it and could now sleep in relative peace.
His breath continued to move, huffing in and out and stirring a few strands of his black hair where they had fallen over his face. His crimson eyes were hidden behind pale eyelids with soot lashes striking over the skin. On his silver chain of a belt were a handful of Pokeballs, and on his face was a fairly peaceful expression. From the look of things, he would get to sleep all the way through this show too, a first since usually the displays of light and fire ended up waking him up, especially with the smoke that would stir his lungs and the noise that would batter his ears. Lydian liked sleeping. He didn't get to do it often enough.
Pity to the fool dumb enough to arouse his wrath by waking him up.
OOC: Wake him up. C'mon, do it. You know you want to~
Soon enough, it was all over: real battles rarely lasted long to the viewers, even though it might seem like an eternity to the trainers involved, and the choreographed stage-battles were no different in that respect. In fact, since the moves used in these productions were just for show, they arguably sped by even faster and within minutes of the young trainer’s excited whisper-outburst, the Typhlosion and Pikachu were charging each other while smoke slowly enveloped the stage. Sighing, the teen leaned back in his seat and drummed his fingers against the top of his ever-mysterious egg companion, grinning quietly to himself. Yes, this play was definitely the best, never failing to fire him up for another round of training each time he saw it! Unfortunately, however, the weather had other ideas today, and as riled up as Haru was at the moment he was still extremely reluctant toward the idea of going out in the rain to train just Mizune. Training should be done as a team after all!
Okay, then what should I do now? The redhead wondered as he tried and failed to stifle a yawn - the gloomy atmosphere brought on by today’s storm was making him kind of drowsy. Maybe he should stick around the old building until the rain stopped? Another round of thunder that had nothing to do with the play’s Pikachu actor suddenly shook the ancient walls, roaring like Raikou itself and causing Haru to wince and nod in silent agreement with that plan. If anything, it sounded like the storm was getting worse, so staying inside was definitely the best way to go. Even an admittedly reckless guy like him knew better to go running around when your water-type buddy might get electrocuted by a stray bolt of lightening!
Sure enough, the staff started ushering the theater patrons out pretty soon after the actors took their final bows with the well-trained Pokémon right beside the humans. Briefly, the young trainer wondered if he could get any of his team interested in doing something like that, but as far as he knew the Orpheum owned all the Pokémon actors rather than the people who played their trainers. Besides, trying to act just because of one play was pretty stupid. Haru shook his head to banish the thought as he heaved himself out of his seat, balancing his little egg-buddy in his arms carefully. He had more important goals than becoming a fake trainer anyway; he was going to be the genuine article, and a kickass article at that! Once he was the strongest out there, maybe people would start making stage productions about him and his greatest rival.
Besides, there was a lot resting on his promise to grow strong. If Epispect ever found out about his sister, he would need all the power he could get if he wanted to protect her and the rest of their family. Realizing just where his mind was going with this, the teen gave his head a sharp shake as if to dislodge those gloomy thoughts before they could spiral out of control. He hadn't come here to mope about his lot in life, no matter how the dreary weather outside tempted him to sit there and throw a one man pity party, complete with streamers and insincere cards. No, he had to focus on something else!
Come to think of it, he still needed to find a good rival. He had run into a girl once before that looked like she might fit the bill - she sure was mad enough, anyway! - but nothing more came from their meeting than a few insults and another soaked shirt for him. Then there was Teddy, who was...well, the Umbreon gijinka didn’t like Pokémon battles enough to be good rival material. Besides, friend or not, when Haru thought about the possibility of actually fighting his dark-haired pal in anything but a practice battle, he realized he didn’t have the guts to do it. It was embarrassing, but he just knew that he couldn't fight the other, no matter what. I should probably stay out of his way for a while and find myself a real rival, he thought glumly as he walked up the isles - and no, that was not a childish pout crossing his face, he was just deep in thought! Maybe once the weather let up he could go to the park and start challenging people as trainers often gathered there, hoping advantage of the abundance of wild Pokémon in such an accessible place for easy leveling.
Suddenly, a flash of dark hair in the very last row caught his eye and the trainer had to wrap his arms around the egg tightly to keep from dropping it in surprise. Was that Teddy back there? Quickly, Haru dug through his mind for a good excuse for being in such an unlikely place, but by the time he drew close enough to the sprawled-out body to realize that it wasn’t his friend he’d only come up empty. At least it was just a false alarm, so he hadn’t needed to whip up one of his terrible lies, as the man taking up a whole stretch of seats was definitely not his friend despite the dark hair - and the guy was actually sound asleep! Curious, Haru wandered over, brows furrowing as he took in the strange young man. Had he just fallen asleep during the play out of boredom? No, he looked too at home there for someone who just randomly passed out in the middle of a show.
“Is he a hobo or something?” the boy murmured to himself, getting closer for a better look at the sleeping weirdo. He should probably wake the guy up before the ushers did just so that he didn't go stumbling off to other parts of the theater half-asleep. However, just as he was leaning in to shake the older teen’s shoulder, one of his Pokéballs shook free from the pocket of his hoodie and fell to the floor, hitting its opening mechanism and opening with a bright flash of light and a delighted squeal from its usual occupant. As the light cleared, Mizune the Totodile stood there in her full glory, glancing around at the familiar site of the theater with wide, excited eyes. Oh crap! The teen thought, looking around frantically to make sure no ushers that he recognized were nearby, lest they kick him out into the storm for violating Mizune’s ban. As soon as he saw that the coast was clear for now, he started whispering at the little water-type to get back in her ball, but of course the ever-mischievous creature was not going to let him get away without causing some kind of trouble. Chortling to herself, the Totodile hopped up onto one of the unoccupied seats beside the Houndoom gijinka and before Haru could finish hissing a sharp “Mizune, no!”, the tiny reptile quickly chomped down on the older boy’s hand.
- - - - - it's an inner war we all fight.
Words: 1168...I swear the others will be a lot shorter! DX Tagging: Lydi Notes: The Taillow egg is 3/7 since I moved it here from another thread and the Totodile egg is 2/7. Also, Mizune is stupid and she needs to stop getting Haru in trouble. :| Pokemon in party: Totodile - Mizune - level 5 Charmander - No nickname - level 5 (in ball) Drilbur - Lagann - level 8 (in ball) Taillow Egg - ???? - not hatched Totodile Egg - ???? - not hatched/invisible
Post by Lydian Bellecourt on Jun 11, 2012 12:16:09 GMT -5
Lydian had been wandering in this maze for a long time. He didn't know how he had gotten there, and he didn't know where he was going. All he knew was that there was a large maze in front of him, and that he wanted to get to the end of it. One hand rested in the pocket of his black hoodie, and the other hung at his side, a Pokeball minimized in it. Wet seeped into him, no doubt a result of the over-saturated loam beneath his feet and a general heavy feeling to the air from all the water vapor inside it. All of a sudden, a Mist began sneaking its way around the corner, tendrils of the smoke twirling around his legs, caressing his body like a lover. Confident of his own skills but wanting a little bit of scouting done, he tossed the Pokeball into the air. "Lancelot, come forth," he commanded in a strong voice, not the least bit surprised when a Bisharp appeared before him, giving a salute.
"Bisharp," the loyal Pokemon stated, bowing before his Trainer. The Dark-Type walked ahead of his Trainer, going through a mirror, which merely rippled with his passage as if it were only a pool someone had dropped a rock into. Without missing a beat, Lydian himself stepped through the mirror, his clothes changing from his usual attire to that of an elegant white suit-jacket, a black button-up shirt with red tie, a pair of white pants, and black patent leather shoes, a black top hat with red sash sitting pretty on top of his head while a blackwood cane with a white diamond tip completed the ensemble. The cane thumped alongside his stride, but he did not seem the least bit lost, not here. He moved confidently, footsteps echoing loudly on the cobblestone flooring beneath his feet, unintimidated by the fearsome sets of armor flanking the hallway, their swords raised in the air. He walked past doors on either side of him, their heavy oak closed and bolted against him, until he reached the end of the hallway.
He pushed the large double-doors open without the least bit of hesitation, striding into the room that had obvious scorch marks across much of the stone floors and walls, even a few tapestries hanging forlornly, their contents eradicated from the circular holes burned into them, the edges of which were still ashen and almost seemed to be smoldering. There was a set of armor on the floor, obviously devoid of a person despite the fact that the parts were not scattered far and instead had remained almost entirely together, the sole exception being the head, which had bounced several feet to the left of the fallen metal. He didn't pause to look at it or move it from its position, instead striding over it and dropping to one knee, his head bowed so he could not see beyond the fine netting of the lace veil that kept him from seeing the man who sat on the throne that was the centerpiece of the room, its coloring and sharp edges reminiscent of obsidian. "My lord..." he murmured softly, his gaze fixed on the very foot of the small dais the throne was raised up on, "I am at your command."
Lydian woke up from his dream a split second before there was a sudden pain on his right hand, which was bent up above his head. He hissed in pain at the sting of teeth, having no doubts in his mind that sharp teeth had pierced the skin. He bolted up to a sitting position, glaring daggers at the thing that had dared to bite onto him. A Totodile. Lydian fucking hated Water-Type Pokemon. They were right up there with Fire-Types in his opinion. They could all burn in Hell for all he cared; that is, except for Houndours and Houndooms. They were okay. "Bad move, Totodile," he growled darkly, crimson eyes narrowed as he prepared to shove a fireball right down that thing's gullet before he remembered where he was. The theater would likely catch if he did something like that.
Luckily, he didn't have to endure the indignity much longer. He let Lancelot roam out of his Pokeball while he would nap, and the little Pawniard darted back to his side right then, just in time to use a swift, abbreviated Aerial Ace onto the poor Totodile's head in order to free Lydian from those jaws digging into his palms.
OOC: ... Lancelot to the rescue! And yes, that is my idea of what the Guardian's castle would look like... and Nicolae showed up in there... subconsciously... *shot*
The aftermath of Mizune’s hasty bite was both immediate and frightening as Lydian’s eyes snapped open in a vicious glare, the concentrated hate gleaming in them startling Haru, who took a quick step back out of pure, instinctual fear. The boy was no coward, that was for sure, but the look in those blood-red eyes - Really freakin’ blood red! - was downright unnerving and had the redhead wrapping his arms around the blue-shelled egg more defensively than ever. Even if he was not the one the dark-haired young man was currently glaring to death, he still had to fight down the sudden unwelcome impulse to grab his Totodile and run for his life. And who would blame him if he did? Now that the stranger was awake, everything about this “hobo” absolutely screamed dangerous from his sharp movements right down to the venomous hiss of his voice. The redhead winced at the sound, wondering what Mizune had gotten them into this time while his heart pounded in alarm. What if this guy one of Epispect’s hired killers? He definitely had the bloodthirsty look Haru expected from a professional in taking lives, that was for sure. But if he was one of their hunters, why would he be napping in a place like this? No, it was more likely that the dark-haired guy was a different kind of trouble all together.
That thought did a little to abate Haru’s fear and sent a small tremor of excitement through the trainer’s body. Maybe if this guy was pissed enough, he could convince him into a battle later. Someone that scary-looking had to have some equally threatening Pokémon with him, and like the fool he was that thought riled the hot-blooded trainer up enough to forget his initial fear. Of course there was always the chance that this guy was a gijinka, in which case he might be screwed, but that was a risk everyone took in this day and age. It was hard to tell who did or did not have Pokémon DNA running through their veins unless they were actively using their powers or else had some other trait that gave them away, such as the higher body temperatures some fire-type and dragon-type gijinka possessed. But who was going to get close enough to a stranger to check that way, especially one giving off strong “I will end you” vibes like this guy was? Haru almost had to laugh at his inability to make up his own mind; one second, he was terrified of this guy, and the next he was absolutely itching to battle him because of that fear. After all, if you were scared of something, you should try to fight your way through to overcome it...right?
Meanwhile, Mizune seemed to be anything but afraid of Lydian as she merely grinned against his hand and squeezed her jaws harder at his warning, her own red eyes glittering with mischief - at least until a black and red blur sped towards her and landed a sharp Aerial Ace on her forehead. The tiny crocodile let go of the hand with a startled squawk, more surprised by the sudden attack than genuinely injured as the air blade left little more than a shallow scrape in its wake, red bubbling up from the tiny wound as she stumbled back and took a tumble off the chair, landing flat on her behind with an indignant squeak. She wasn’t down for long, however, as she sprang to her feet once again to get a good look at her attacker. A Pawniard, his arms tipped with gleaming blades, and no doubt one of the Pokémon belonging to the man she’d bitten. A low growl escaped her throat as she prepared to complain about how unfair a sneak-attack was - completely ignoring how unfair it was of her to bite someone still half-asleep - when a light tap on her back from her trainer’s shoe cut her off. With a questioning whine she looked up at her trainer, trying to look pathetic although from the snort he gave at her look chances were he wasn’t buying any of it.
“You know, one of these days I might listen to mom’s suggestion and muzzle you.” The boy muttered at his partner, though from the slight smile tugging at his lips his threat was an empty one, repeated over and over to the point where it lost its edge. The Totodile seemed to believe it, though, as she “hmphed” and crossed her arms in annoyance, still glaring at the dark-type with every bit of malice her little body could muster. Which was not a great deal, all told; Mizune might be a mischievous thing, but the water-type was hardly a bad Pokémon. She just didn’t know when to quit. With a shake of his head, Haru turned his attention back to the other trainer, deciding that whether he was hoping for a battle or not he should probably at least give the guy some kind of apology since Mizune obviously wasn’t going to mon up and say anything. “Sorry about that. I think someone dropped her while she was an egg or something and now she thinks it’s okay to just bite anything that gets within three feet of her face.”
- - - - - it's an inner war we all fight.
Words: 884 - doing better? Tagging: Lydi Notes: The Taillow egg is 4/7 since I moved it here from another thread and the Totodile egg is 3/7. And sorry for the post being shitty. Pokemon in party: Totodile - Mizune - level 5 Charmander - No nickname - level 5 (in ball) Drilbur - Lagann - level 8 (in ball) Taillow Egg - ???? - not hatched Totodile Egg - ???? - not hatched/invisible
Post by Lydian Bellecourt on Jun 24, 2012 11:52:28 GMT -5
Lydian looked down at his hand, clenching it lightly and growling lowly in his throat at the sight of ruby tears welling from a series of symmetrical bite marks. At his side, Lancelot let out a little panicked sound, darting to some seats a few rows down and rummaging around in the stuffing that had been ripped open, muttering softly to himself. Honestly, he had only put the roll of bandages here for precautions! He knew his swords were sharp, so he had gone looking about a few days ago. It was been scary too, a Growlithe had tried to steal his head thinking it just a helmet, and he had nearly been lit on fire a few times. He wasn't a toy! He was only a Steel-Type Pokemon! Sulking a little, he continued rummaging around in the stuffing, just knowing he'd left it there... or maybe it was a row further up? Clambering over the seat agilely, he began searching in earnest, knowing he had to take care of his Trainer. Lydian would need some care to dress his bite marks, and since there weren't anyone else, it would have to be Lancelot, swords and all. Lydian, meanwhile, was trying to treat the wound himself. Or rather, he was not treating it. The Houndoom Gijinka brought his hand up to his mouth absently, licking at the torn shreds of flesh as if he received such wounds every day. His tongue ran over the skin in an almost loving fashion, gliding about to collect every single drop of blood and bring it to his lips. He glared at the Totodile darkly, mentally swearing vengeance. Stupid thing, he was a fearsome Gijinka. He could kill the little Water Pokemon so hard it died to death. After a prolonged moment so tense he might as well have had a Mean Look, even though Houndooms didn't learn the move naturally and he hadn't taken the TM serum for it. He then looked up to examine what was obviously the Trainer of the Totodile who had bit him so coldly and without warning.
The boy had short red hair and a gentle blue eyes, a blue Pokemon egg clutched in his arms up to his chest. Lydian thought he looked fairly decent, though not the kind of person the Houndoom Gijinka would consider going for. He watched Trainer and Pokemon interact through narrowed eyes, though he then turned his attention towards glaring back at the Totodile with all the considerable malice he felt he could afford it when a single ounce of uncontrolled hate or anger could light a spark in him that could very well send the place up in flames. He then turned his dark gaze on the boy, somehow knowing that he was a human, a boring plain old human. An apology. He growled low in his throat. "I do not blame you, though a Trainer should train his Pokemon better." He dipped his head low again, licking at his wound. In all his years of being around Pokemon, both with and without Sunshine - that traitorous Vulpix - he had never before been bitten that hard. Lightly nipped occasionally on a particularly stubborn Pokemon or one that slipped past his guard... and gnawed on in a battle where the situation demanded it... but not to the point where there were deep indents in his skin that were oozing blood to the ground. He wasn't overly fond of the taste of blood, so he tended to try to avoid those types of attacks. His Gijinka DNA compelled him to lick his wounds the same way an injured Houndoom would, trying to use the healing balm in their saliva - perhaps one of the only things there was to stop the festering and pain of a Houndoom's burn - only he didn't have any as a Gijinka. It was too weak to do him any good.
Lancelot let out a delighted "Pawniard!" when he managed to find the roll of bandages, pausing in his tearing apart of the open stuffing of the seats that had already been torn open. Gleeful with the discovery, he then scampered up over the seats in delight, running to present his Trainer with his prize. Lydian nodded at him, thanking him in his own tight-lipped, fiercely proud way as he took the bandages from the Pawniard and began to unwind it to cater to his bite wounds. He'd rather not bleed all over his clothes, thank you very much.
Yeah, now that Haru got the chance to listen to him properly, there was definitely something creepy and unnerving about this guy. It wasn’t just the way he spoke; the guy was seriously growling! I guess the chances of him being a gijinka then are pretty dang high, the boy thought with a sharp intake of breath as the older teen lapped the blood from his hand, red eyes matching the color of the droplets he spied leaking from the wound in between lashes of his tongue. Such actions only heightened that feral aura of his, unlike if say Teddy had cut his hand on something - again - and tended to it similarly as such actions would likely cause his friend to resemble a sulking Skitty more than an Umbreon. Haru had to stifle a snicker at the mental image that popped up in his head then and there, not wanting to piss this guy off too badly, but it was hard to keep a serious face with that mental image in his head!
It took a bit of self-control and another glance at Lydian’s fierce glare to accomplish the feat, which left the redhead time to mull over the other’s words. They stung, of that there was no doubt, and the not-so-subtle insinuation that he was a poor trainer had him gripping his egg a little tighter in an attempt to steady himself from snapping back at the guy that damn it, he tried with her, but Mizune was forever a flighty spirit who had little disregard for rules and no matter how annoying it got at times he was not going to break her the way some trainers did to their Pokémon in an attempt to better control unruly members of their teams. That wasn’t how his pops taught him how to do things and it was definitely not something he would ever sink to doing on his own. For all her flaws, the Totodile was a good Pokémon, and despite his occasional suspicions that she had it out for him he liked to think that she was not as vicious deep down as she appeared to be with her constant biting.
Still, he thought as he cast a glance down at the reptile, I really hope that smack on the head did better at teaching her not to attack people than I did. At least she seemed to be calming down, her attention momentarily focused on Lancelot as he picked through the nearby seats in search of something. Knowing her, she likely still wanted to sink her teeth into the blade-armed dark-type for attacking her, but at least she hadn’t leaped over to sink her teeth into his head the moment his back was turned. It didn’t help that snapping at a foe with her powerful jaws was her natural reaction in fights as well, even though she did not known Bite yet and therefore attacking them that way was as good as useless. He acknowledged that chomping down and clinging to an opponent made it easier for her to land Scratches on her foes, though. “Okay, I admit she lacks discipline, but I’m hoping we can channel that aggressiveness to our advantage someday.” He replied after a moment of thought, doing his best to brush the insult off. Getting riled up at jabs toward his training abilities was one of the things his mother was constantly nagging him about, thanks to a few shouting matches he’d had in the dojo with other students, and he was trying to get a handle on the habit. Maybe this would be a good opportunity to practice.
After a moment of rooting around the Pawniard seemed to find what he was looking for: a roll of bandages, Haru realized when the dual-type returned to his trainer’s side to commence with his first aid. Feeling responsible - and with good reason - the teen fidgeted in place as he watched Lancelot work on the bandaging. A sudden idea struck him at the sight, and he shifted the egg in his grasp so it was pinned between his body and his left arm while leaving his right free to retrieve something from his back pocket. “Argh, where is - okay, got it!” He said after a moment, pulling an item capsule from behind his back and opening it with a poof to reveal the emergency Potion that he’d stored inside. “I know these are supposed to be for Pokémon, but they work fine for disinfecting cuts like that.” He said, offering the tiny spray bottle of medicine to Lydian as a sort-of peace offering, unsure if the other would take it or snarl at him for sticking around.
- - - - - it's an inner war we all fight.
Words: 787; I'm sorry these keep getting shorter and shittier! DX Tagging: Lydi Notes: The Taillow egg is 5/7 and the Totodile egg is 4/7. Sorry the post is crap. DX Pokemon in party: Totodile - Mizune - level 5 Charmander - No nickname - level 5 (in ball) Drilbur - Lagann - level 8 (in ball) Taillow Egg - ???? - not hatched Totodile Egg - ???? - not hatched/invisible
Post by Lydian Bellecourt on Jun 30, 2012 7:27:00 GMT -5
Lydian didn't pay much attention to the human, determining of low importance compared to the wounds. He was used to having to treat wounds, mainly because he had a habit of pissing off those who were most likely to attack him. He'd gotten into a good many scraps in his days out in the wilds, especially against powerful Gijinka and Pokemon, though he'd like to think he was able to give out just as much as he got. After one last lick or two of his skin, he called it done, more or less, and began unwinding the bandage roll, mentally measuring it with his estimates and personal knowledge of roughly how much bandaging he'd need to fix the wound, occasionally having to pause to lick away stray trails of blood. If he didn't try to keep the blood garishly dripping down his arm from doing such things, well... he'd be ruining the point of the bandaging, now wouldn't he? "Aggressiveness can go a long way, but only when you also know when you're over-matched by an opponent and that it is best to retreat before you are roasted." There. He'd tried diplomacy. At least now if the boy wasn't stupid enough to slink off and leave, it wouldn't be Lydian's fault. Entirely. After all, he'd put in the effort to push him away peacefully. Not his fault if it all went horribly wrong. Lancelot at his side made a sheepish shrug and bow, attempting to apologize for his short-tempered Trainer, before he went to try to help Lydian unroll the bandages.
Lydian groaned when he heard the boy exclaim something, looking over to see him holding a Potion out in his hand towards the temperamental Gijinka. "I can handle this on my own!" he growled, eyes lighting up with restrained fire from deep within his heart. He then dipped his head to lick off the wounds to clean them one last time before he looked at Lancelot. The little Pawniard let out a little noise, scrambling to his side to take the plastic roll in his blade-like arms so that Lydian could start unrolling it, measuring. As soon as the moody Houndoom Gijinka thought he had enough, he added another revolution to be safe and to give himself enough to tie it off before he nodded. "Cut it here, Lancelot." he commanded firmly, and the Pawniard responded with an obedient nod and a press of his blade to the bandaging until it gave way beneath his arm. Lydian then began wrapping, failing before he groaned. "Blade, Lancelot?" he requested, needing something flat to keep the bandage from slipping before he could even begin to fix his wounds.
OOC: ... Sick post is likely too short and very crappy.