#fireplxdge

warren vc pls don not freeze kalos my girlfriend lives there :(

      There’s a soft sneer, Urei crossing her arms and grumbling.

How would your character court the person of their dreams?

[ by involving them in his shenanigans, most of the time he tried the whole “asking out on a date” thing, worked, ended in a tragedy. he’s likely not gonna try to be lovey dovey from the very beginning ever again.

so now he just kinda.. ask them out in different kind of dates?

make ‘em join his crimes, mostly. wrecking some shit, mess with the tapu temples, maybe throw eggs at nanu and then hide. that kind of stuff

♧ - Howl

♧ - slap my muse’s hand away from something they shouldn’t touch

How... did he not hear him coming? That’s such a rookie mistake. Allium was so focused on the bag he found ont he ground - one left completely unattended, likely dropped by someone who didn’t think the area was dangerous and went to pick berries, or some unfortunate soul who had to be dragged back to Jubilife after being beaten up by a Shinx - he ended up reacting to Feraligatr’s growl a second too late. The slap barely hit before he was already up, a hand on the knife, the other up, ready to send both Feral and Sneasel against whoever might’ve dared to touch him, just to see...

A guy. A guy with Pokèmon. Six of them.

Overcompensating, much?

Bravery Sentence Starters || Accepting @fireplxdge

          “...Yes. She is yours,”

     The confession slips from ruby lips, absent of a tone familiar to Howl’s ears. Soft-spoken, a whisper rising barely above the wind that rustles the leaves of trees that surround them. It fills the silence that follows next, the sounds of nature, yet they seem so distant. Call and response of cries fades to a slurred, blurry mess of questions without answers. Focus narrows, vibrant colours losing their hue as they mix and distort. Had Sarana not been wiser, perhaps she might have confused it with an illusion cast by the Zoroark so faithfully standing by her side, whose wisps of mane grace the side of the woman’s dress. 

     It is too a heavy a topic to have ever brought up like this, she thinks-- without finesse, without tact, without care. But Howl, he must have been search for her; must have never given up on finding the creature not as she stands now, or perhaps her remains. His words lace themselves with desperation, but not anger-- they are a plea to perhaps the only being who might provide him with an answer. With closure.

          “I think I have known for quite some time. I merely... did not think it was safe to tell you until I was absolutely certain of two things: that she was remembering you correctly, and none of her resentment was directed your way.”

     How silly it sounds, saying such things aloud. The risks were real and devastating if they were to ever transpire, but so bleak compared to the look in the man’s eyes.

          “We found one another near the Alabaster Icelands. She was wandering on her lonesome through snow taller than herself, chilled to the bone. Looking for something-- or... I suppose... looking for you, now that I think back on it. But... it was already too late. She had already been reborn-- already perished in the cold.”

     It breaks her heart, truly, to see pokemon of such origin. For knowing eyes to peer into the distance and see not just any soul of the deceased, but one who has been allowed to take on a new form; new life. What made them so different from the rest, Sarana had wondered? Should it be considered a blessing, or cruelty of the highest degree? Do mother life and the almighty above converse with that who oversees the dead, and deem them befitting of such a fate? But how-- how could it be fair when it comes to children or infants, like those Zorua?

     Such questions, the medium has never gotten an answer to.

           “I am sure you’ve heard of her form. A reborn form of Zorua who have died from heartbreaking circumstances-- shunned by people and pokemon alike, left with nothing but pain and resentment in their hearts the moment they pass.”

     An uncomfortable shift. A hand raising to so gently brush through strands of the ghost-type’s mane, like she had done so many times before, ever since her beloved Erykah had been so small and vulnerable.

          “...And that is why I had to hold my tongue. Had she blamed you for her death... She would have taken your life the moment her eyes set on you. But it appears she harbours neither blame nor hatred for you in her heart.”

     Scarlet eyes soften, brow lifting in a rare display of weakness that loops through a perhaps far more common display of concern. What of their situation now? Would he want her back, now that the Zoroark has found a place at the woman’s side? Demand they sever their bond for his sake? Would he resign to their fates, and leave all as it is? Or perhaps ask to see the ghost-type more often? A man Sarana is not all that fond of, Howl may be, but she is not a cruel or malevolent woman. If it entailed Erykah’s happiness, it would be worth it. And so, she keeps her voice low and gentle, heart seized and ready to endure what might come next.

test my finely honed ms paint skillz

It took some time, but it was apparent that a small pokemon was following warren this entire time. A small Cubchoo, timidly walking several steps behind him, sniffling every few minutes. It was apparent that he wanted to be friends, but was unsure of how to approach.

“I believe someone has taken a liking to you, my friend.” N pointed behind the young man, to a Cubchoo who was hiding behind a small fencepost nearby. Oddly enough, he barely had any mucus dripping from his nose, indicating that this one was not so healthy. “You wish to be his friend, right?” N turns to the small cub pokemon, giving him a reassuring smile. “Please, come here. I’m sure my friend over her will be happy to take you in.”

Cubchoo

Gender: Male

Nature: Timid

Ability: Snow Cloak

Background: A formerly liberated pokemon, his previous owner passed away before the Driftveil City Rescue Center could return him. Thankfully, this one has had time to grieve, and now wishes to move on with his life and befriend a new trainer.

Living in a temple by himself definitely has pros, but the cons are still definitely as annoying today as they were yesterday. While intimacy is of the utmost importance to Ho-Oh, he must admit that sometimes, the idea of hiring someone to take care of the upkeep in the place could have its advantages. At the same time though, the temple’s finances are always tight, as they mainly rely on donations and people paying for burial lots and shrine spaces. So for now, he’ll keep doing the brain-numbing tasks and sweep away at the pathways between the gardens. 

Fuck, the gardens. He has to tend to those too. They’re alright for now, but having someone to take care of them would at least... Okay, yeah, he’s definitely finding a way to funnel some of that human moolah and getting someone to look after that. 

And just as he goes back to sweeping, the realization hits him. He keeps tapping the ashes from his smokes away, without an ashtray. Just making everything harder to maintain. UGH. Dumb bird brain. 

...okay, whatever, he’ll take care of that later. 

Leaning on his broom with a sigh, he notice a silhouette near the entrance and... pauses. Still takes his sweet time before straightening up. Looks back to the temple. Is tempted to YEET the broom into the fountain. Decides against it. Places it against a wall, carefully, yes, good, and approaches the young man. Extinguishes his cigarette in a nearby potted plant. Notices his fingers brushing against other cigarette butts hidden under the foliage. Shit, this one could die any time soon, whoops. 

He barely gives a bow, sniffs a little and—yep, there it is. He gets the usual shiver at the back of his neck when someone who has seen death faces him. 

Ho-Oh—Shouhei—clears his throat, tilting his head ever so slightly towards the other. 

Incorrect quotes || Selectively accepting @fireplxdge

Howl: Caffeine no longer keeps me awake while I work, so instead I have Sarana periodically send me texts saying ‘we need to talk.’ Howl: It gives me the right amount of adrenaline and fear I need to keep going.

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Sarana: Can I have some water?  Howl: *starts chugging their water bottle* Howl: *chokes from drinking too fast* Howl: *spills water all over themself* Howl, coughing: I don't have any water.

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