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Cannot believe how hard i've fallen into liking pokemon recently considering I never really grew up with the games and Shield was my first proper experience with the series. And now I'm sitting here with two pokemon plushies and having just ordered a box of cards. It's surprisingly nice
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third.
Jesse couldn’t adequately describe what he’d just seen on the screen in the main building. All he understood was that the two minutes he’d spent watching had been two minutes too many. He also knew how he was feeling was nothing compared to how she must be feeling. “Hey, has um... has anyone seen Annie?” Jesse spoke up over the distressed chatter, fiddling with his sweatshirt’s sleeves.
“’Better not be you who messed with this. It took me hours to set this up.”
“I just don’t feel like we’re making any progress. I need to be doing something. Someone has to listen --- we need to start making official plans. Now.” She’d spent so long training that she’d caused herself stress, which was made obvious through her body language. “I - I need to focus.”
dream or memory | 10th July
“Topher... Toph... T-Topher!”
TC jumped into awareness, as he shouted out. Breathing quickly, TC made a quick assessment of his surroundings (a simple tent, just big enough for a grown man to sleep in, with his discarded t-shirt on the tent floor and his rucksack beneath it) before letting out a small sigh and rubbing a hand wearily across his tired eyes.
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“So, how do we really know this place is abandoned? What if a train comes through in the middle of the night and discovers our presence? I don’t know about all of you, but a man truly needs his beauty sleep.”
Adrian’s words were light-hearted, but they did little to mask the nerves festering in the pit of his stomach. It had been weeks since their last contact with the Capitol, and his concern for his friends - or rather, friend - was growing. Keeping to himself was really only allowing his mind to wander back to when he’d been held captive by Coin, and the worry was starting to keep him up at night.
Rose hadn’t felt well for most of the night. Not being able to sleep or eat meant that she had no way to escape the strange feeling that something wasn’t right, and she’d spent the quiet hours in the cells dealing with the stress of not knowing what was going on. She’d considered asking the doctor during guard rotation, but whatever truth serum they’d pumped her with days earlier left Rose nervous about speaking a single word, even to a fellow ‘rebel’. So she’d suffered in silence, fidgeting with her hair, her clothes, even resorting to tapping the floor with her ruined nails when the silence became too much to bear.
It wasn’t until what she assumed was early morning that the noise of her nails shifted from a sharp clack to the dull slap of her fingers hitting linoleum and, confused by the sudden change, Rose glanced down to see what had once been pointed claws were now her familiar short, clipped nails.
“What the fu-”
She’d completely forgotten about the polyjuice. In trying to keep a low-profile since her capture, she’d forgotten to ask Dean or Michonne to bring her more. She could kiss a ‘low-profile’ goodbye now.
“Oh no.”
“Does anyone know where I can get fabric from around here? And not that cheap papery stuff, I need durable Lycra. I want to actually be useful, and so far I can only think of one reason how to be.” Training would never suit her, so perhaps she should aim behind the scenes instead, at something she was good at. Designing. Fashion. Sure, she’d need help to actually complete her outfits, but soldiers needed suitable gear to fight in, right?
