#scarymiss

38. Are they basically negative when facing new things? Suspicious? Hostile? Scared? Enthusiastic?

{Mei likes change, she likes new things. Although you’ll catch her complaining most of the time, she honestly welcomes the prospect of things that are new. She doesn’t like things to stay the same.}

40. How is their sense of humor? Do they have one?

{Mei likes most kinds of humor as long as she doesn’t consider it lowest common denominator (like.... the really low brow stuff, I suppose). She’s deathly serious about herself, but is willing to laugh at anyone, regardless of the situation. I guess you could say she might have more of an interest in meanspirited humor, being a huge asshole who likes to pick on others and all, but she does laugh at anything as long as it’s somewhat clever.}

49. What about voice? Pitch? Strength? Tempo and rhythm of speech? Pronunciation? Accent?

{This is generally what she sounds like, but I’ll of course go into a little detail.

Voice is a little more high pitched than that. She’s always confident in herself and she makes sure she’s heard in a conversation. She tends to talk pretty fast. Friends would always make fun of her because she would sometimes be difficult to understand.

✺- Something your muse finds pretty

Fire types, if it wasn’t obvious enough already lol! But also, sunsets/sunrises! She really likes those, specifically when she can witness them without any light pollution. The more fiery and colorful the sky’s colors contrast in the sky the better they are for her.

✆- What your muse’s phone gallery is filled with?

Either various pics of her Fire babies doing things she finds adorable (which is everything) or pics she snags for her reports. Depends on which phone she’s using (because she’s such a media whore she has more than one).

⋆- Your muse’s future dream and why

What animal are they most like?

A Lillipup! Bianca has the tendency to get curious and a little overexcited about things that are of interest to her. She comes off as very friendly too.

Three things they are fearful of.

Loud and sudden noises, loneliness, falling behind.

Last text your character received and sent.

“Dinner is wrapped up in the fridge. Don’t work yourself too hard!” -Mom

[ 4 years ago ... ]

It had taken his completely embarrassing ineptitude to stop a child from reaching and defeating the admin within the Slowpoke Caves, but eventually, it seemed the higher ups had finally realized that Grunt 2152 was not fit for guard duty.

Granted, the whole state of affairs did little more than display that Team Rocket was ill-equipt to fight children in general, but in the interest of keeping his head, he hadn’t said anything. Thankfully, his decision to keep his mouth shut hadn’t ultimately ended in his job being terminated, nor forced him to be stuck taking stock in HQ for the rest of his days. Instead, they’d sent him and a few of of his fellow worthless bastards to Unova, under the impression that because one was capable of speaking other languages, it meant one was perfectly fluid within all of them. ‘Redemption’, they’d called it. ‘Put yourself back into Giovanni’s favour for his eventual return to us’.

In his personal and candid opinion, if the old man fucked off from the shame involved with getting his ass whipped by a kid, there was probably next to nothing that would bring him back while it was still happening to his best and brightest, let alone under-trained grunts. But he hadn’t said that either.

He hadn’t said much of anything, really, until he was stuck wandering lost on the streets of a foreign country with a city name he couldn’t pronounce (was it Cast-ella or Case-lia?), having gotten separated from his squad after they’d split up. They were supposed to be searching for... well, he wasn’t really sure. Smugglers? Apparently there was some talented drug runners here that could possibly give Team Rocket’s supply chain an edge to make up for the ones that dropped the moment they heard the Old Boss was out, but... well. Asking around tended to land you into trouble.

So naturally, Barker had let the others who actually spoke the language to do the investigating while he entertained the idea of getting pizza. He recognized the picture well enough on the sign, at least. Still, it wouldn’t have hurt to make sure, and upon seeing a woman in uniform exiting the building, he decided to ask.

“Euh... a moment, madame? Have you get ...‘the goods’?”

♔ something my character finds physically attractive.

“Physically attractive? I suppose someone who is well built would be most suitable. In times of emergency it would be troublesome to worry about them when I have to make sure everyone else is ok, so I suppose someone who is agile and quick thinking would be good as well. Oh, I suppose you didn’t ask that far did you,”

✗ something my character does not find attractive at all and it would be hard for them to tolerate it.

DEN: so jr peed in my bed again todayDEN: do u think i should put a diaper on himDEN: he doesnt like that tho :( he gets rashes DEN: my poor little furball D:

“C’mon, Mary, give me a smile,” prodded DJ Ben, playfully sticking his fork at her.  He speared a meatball and tried to feed it to her, but Mary shook her head.

“I just can’t help but feel as if something’s wrong,” she replied, her voice earnest.  She looked down and crumpled the napkin on her lap.  Ever since her borrowed pudgy Pidgey left on their mission—Dasher and Dancer and Comet and Cupid… even Blitzen—an overwhelming feeling of dread came over her.  DJ Mary glanced back up at her date, who stared at her curiously.

“Well, I mean—if something went wrong, it’s certainly not your fault. Those Pidgey are professionals, like us. They know what they’re doing.” Ben smiled and plopped the meatball in his mouth, moaning with pleasure.  After he swallowed, Ben leaned back in his chair and held his stomach.  “Oh, god!  I forgot how good these were!  Are you going to eat that—?”

Mary used her utensil to swat Ben’s creeping fork away.  He laughed and focused on his own plate.  She stuck out her tongue at him and finally ate a bite out of her spaghetti.  Ben was right, this is marvelous!  But was he also right about the Pidgey?  Had they even made an around-the-world trip like this before?

…What if the wind carried them off-course?  What if one of them was seriously injured?!

“Mary.  Mary!”

DJ Mary snapped to attention, realizing that she was breathing exceptionally hard.  The hand holding her fork was shaking.  Ben was kneeling by her side, wetting his napkin in his water.

“It’s going to be okay,” he murmured, gently resting her hand on the table.  He then dabbed the damp napkin on her forehead and on the back of her neck.

“I’m f-fine.  Really,” Mary forced a laugh.  Ben grunted and went back to his chair when she insisted she was all right.  They spent the next several minutes in silence, Ben watching her like a Braviary.  Under his watchful gaze, Mary reluctantly ate the rest of her meal.

When she was done, Ben checked his watch.  “We should head back to the office,” he said, moving to help her out of her seat.  “It’s nearly time for your big announcement.  I’ll even hold your microphone—for moral support.”

Back inside DJ Mary’s booth, Mary sat at her chair while Ben completed the rest of the preparations.  With a wink and his signature smile, DJ Ben closed his eyes, clapped his hand over his face, and pointed at the list of participants entered into the raffle.  He held up a finger to Mary and counted, “Eenie, meenie, miney, moe.  Catch a Persian by the toe.  If he hollers, let him go… my mother… said to… pick the very best one… and you… are… not… IT!”

Ben did this three more times until all of the winners had been chosen.  “Here you go, Mare,” he said with a grin, handing her the names.

Mary couldn’t believe what she just witnessed. Well… she could.  She really could.  “Thank you, Ben,” the DJ replied, struggling to hold back a giggle.  What a doofus!

Ben winked and shot off a finger gun.  “Knock ’em dead.”

As promised, as soon as Mary went to turn on the microphone, Ben held it, too—effectively holding her hand.  “Good evening, ladies and gentleman!” Mary announced, putting on her most professional airs and ignoring her silly co-worker.  “The time has finally come to announce the raffle winners!  You’ve waited all week for this, so here it is!  I’m pleased to announce…”

DENNIS, SHAUNTAL, and SIEBOLD—Congratulations!  Your names were the first to be drawn in the raffle.  You may now pick one (1) shiny Pokemon as your very own, so long as it is an Normal, Psychic, or Fairy-type.  There is no need to wait for the other winners to make their pick; everyone can choose whichever type they desire, regardless of what other types were chosen.

@scarymiss

                  --- travelling to castelia for work was never fun, but with such a large city and only one pokemon centre, it wasn’t uncommon for the nurses on shift to ask help from neighbouring cities. misuzu never enjoyed doing these, hating having to go through the desert in between the two cities, but she’d always begrudgingly do it anyway, hating the idea of rejecting others.

thus, here the little nurse was, running around the streets of this big city with her blissey toddling behind her, trying to keep up with her trainer’s pace, trying to figure out where the heck this ‘emergency’ was. seriously, misuzu wouldn’t have to be doing this if there wasn’t some seriously big emergency going on somewhere in the city that was so bad the trainer couldn’t even run to the pokemon centre.

alas, she’d been running around for goodness knows how long now and she hadn’t found this incident anywhere! she’s honestly starting to doubt the existence of it. surely it hadn’t been some prank caller, hell bent on taking time out of her busy life?

she’s never been the sort to ask for help while out on the job, but it looks like that may be her only choice this time. hazel eyes scan the area, looking for anyone who gives off the air of a local before a much taller woman catches her eyes, and she jogs over.