Thread: FB Bar
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Old 03-25-2013, 09:58 PM   #1670
Hayward
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Join Date: Dec 2008
Location: Chi Town
Posts: 818
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***OCC: Special thanks to my good friend MZ for allowing me the opportunity to 'borrow' one of his characters. Hope I did it justice and hope y'all enjoy the cameo.***


Fwooooooooosh! The wind blows across the plains of the FB countryside and a battered teenager dressed in a black jacket and black trousers clings desperately to the back of his scraped up Blitzle as it dashes wildly across the grassland at a tremendous speed, while his other, equally-bruised companions, a tiny plasma light bulb with thunderbolt shaped appendages, an overgrown she-wolf, a lithe mystic, and a giant steel condor, race to keep up at his side. Wearing a determined look, the lad, Will Hale from Pacifidlog Town, adjusts his riding goggles and urges his striped steed on; silently wondering how long they can continue outrunning the rampaging Druddigon which is rapidly gaining on them.

Over hills, through woods, and across fields, the great brute has chased the lad and his Pokémon, enraged at their interference during its midday feeding time. As fate would have it, while traveling the route to their next destination, Will happened to spy Druddigon terrorizing a tiny farm nearby, and with the help of his companions, attempted to put a stop to the slaughter. However, the Cave Pokémon’s natural strength, toughness, and sheer force proved too powerful, easily surpassing that of Will's well-trained squad, leaving him with no choice but to flee.

Just then, Druddigon rears up from behind, gapes its vicious mouth wide, and lunges forward ready to strike, however at the same moment, Blitzle begins to shudder and pant, an action which causes her to zigzag erratically to one side, leaving the crimson-faced dragon’s ferocious fangs to clamp down on nothing but air, and startling her rider, who grits his teeth and fears that his hard-working Pokémon has finally reached the end of her limits and is about to faint from exhaustion.

However in the next moment, to everyone’s surprise, instead of collapsing, Zebréo’s stubby little legs suddenly begin to elongate, her body fills out as her mane lengthens and now ends in a starburst-shaped tail, and two lightning bolt-shaped horns gradually fade into view on her forehead. As Druddigon lunges forward for another go at Zebréo, the electric equine easily surges ahead of its snapping jaws thanks to a new found quickness which has apparently accompanied her change in physical appearance, once again leaving the fearsome beast chomping on a mouthful of air.

Will bolts in astonishment at the realization that Zebréo has just evolved into her second stage, the lightning-quick Zebstrika, and wastes no time in instructing her to make use of her advanced speed to carry them on to safety. The Thunderbolt Pokémon nods her head in understanding and suddenly shoots off across the plain like a firecracker, almost instantly leaving their reptilian pursuer behind.

Watching as its prey sprints away, Druddigon lets out a boisterous, angry roar that echoes over the countryside like an ominous clap of thunder, before turning and stalking off across the grassland in the direction of another farm…

* * *

Some time later, Will and his companions have arrived in town and now stand out in front of a pub known as the FB Bar. The lad comments on their grubby condition and chuckles that it will be a miracle if they are even allowed inside. As he gazes at the swinging, double-doors of the quaint little tavern, the muffled noise of conversation mixed with laughter, and the occasional cries of Pokémon issue from within; a welcoming sound that invites them to come inside and relax, rest their weary bodies, and recover their strength.

Will glances at the wiry Medicham at his side, wondering if the perceptive mystic is able to sense any dangerous emanations about the place. As if reading its trainer’s thoughts, the Yoga Pokémon Medéo turns to Will, a quizzical expression on its face, and shrugs.

“Yeah, I agree, mate,” Will casually remarks as he bends down and gently scratches his Mightyena Hynéo under her chin. “I don't see why not either.”

Zebréo and Skarméo the Skarmory prefer to wait outside however, the armored avian opting to perch herself on the corner of the pub’s roof, while Zebréo, still exhausted from running more than a marathon, begins to doze off on her feet. Will promises to bring them some refreshments in a few moments, then nods in the direction of the bar and whistles for Hynéo to follow him and Medéo inside. The Rotom Rotéo also decides to accompany them, though being a living ball of energy, needs neither food nor drink to sustain itself and is simply grateful to be included as a part of the group. Flitting along happily above Will’s shoulder, it spastically fades in and out of view as they enter the small tavern.

* * *

Creeeeaaaak. Creeeeaaaak. The double doors swing open noisily on their hinges as Will steps inside the dimly lit chamber, quickly surveying the scene before him with his grey-green eyes, as Medéo and Hynéo shuffle in at his side and Rotéo suddenly fizzles into existence overhead.

Immediately, the lad can tell that the FB Bar, packed with people and Pokémon, is also filled with something else…history. A long rich one. It isn’t hard for him to believe that the place probably has quite the collection of stories to tell. Stories of the trainers and Pokémon who have preceded him. Stories of comings and goings. Stories of friendships made and severed. Stories of victory and stories of defeat. Happy stories. Sad stories. Love stories. Death stories. Stories with happily-ever-after endings, and stories with no endings because they're still being written today.

Standing in the doorway, drinking everything in, Will is suddenly hit with the realization that he’s thirsty. Powerfully thirsty. Thirstier than he’s been since he can’t remember when. So, mouth dry, he strides to the bar, with his Pokémon tagging along behind, and nods tersely at the burly man behind the counter.

“What’ll it be, runt?” the bartender barks in a gruff voice.

Fresh Water,” he replies, choosing to ignore the man’s irreverence. “Five bottles.”

The bartender acknowledges the order with a grunt then shuffles off to fill it, leaving Will, Medéo, Hynéo, and Rotéo, alone at the counter for the moment…
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art by kiseki

Last edited by Hayward; 03-26-2013 at 10:31 AM. Reason: a bit of grammar
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