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Old 06-10-2017, 04:09 PM   #45
Raves
...try a little harder.
 
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Location: Life and love make fools of us all. Gods reject the existence of love and life.
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La Ville des Farceurs et Voleurs

Raves:
You cross the street, torn between your indifference towards the suffering of man, and the Mawile's pity. It isn't as though the van isn't long gone by now anyway, and therefor only so much your problem, and so you walk with only vague and noncommittal plans to do anything about what you've seen. There is trash gathering in the gutters, you notice, as you cross the road under the orange glow of streetlamps.

While by no means cold, it is a cooler evening than might be expected for this time of year. On the opposite corner, you find a girl's plaid flannel button-up lying on the concrete sidewalk. You hadn't noticed the child wearing it, but the wrists are still looped together, as if it had been tied around her waist. Perhaps she had dropped it in the struggle? You don't have much time to determine if the item is worth your attention, however, because you find yourself right outside of a bar, and no sooner do you happen upon the sweater does the front door swing open; a man being ejected violently by a bouncer's Mienshao. He hits the pavement violently, six inches from the toes of your boots, and rolls. Rising up on his elbows, he rips a Pokéball from his belt. The bouncer -- a man with blonde hair and a sandy goatee -- arrives in time to be blinded by the brilliant white light of a Pangoro materializing there on the street. Looking for a fight, the irate customer is on his feet now, spitting out a mouthful of blood.

It lands on your shoe.

What will you do?



As the pair walked down the street, the woman noticed the garbage blowing in the wind collecting in the gutters, the sight before them that led them in this direction at the back of her mind. Cruel as it seemed to not care about a disappeared child, the fact of the matter was that it was of little concern to her, as the Mawile grudgingly agreed. The setting sun rendered the temperature cooler than usual, likely due to possible weather fronts in the marshland, yet the roads remained bathed in the warm glow of the streetlamps above.

The pair stopped briefly upon noticing a discarded sweater, knotted arms hinting attachment at the waist. Whether it was the kidnapped girl's or not was of little concern to her, but what was however was the heavy landing of a man on the concrete beside her, ejected from a bar by a Mienshao of all things. She couldn't tell whether or not the man was inebriated in any way, but could practically feel the justified rage emanating from him as the Mawile stood by her in a defensive posture, horns rising just behind the head as the man slowly rose to his feet after releasing a large muscular bear, a Pangoro it seemed, to meet the bouncer, a suave type with sandy hair. The customer was most certainly far from amused, and proceeded to spit blood out...onto her boot.

"...how bothersome. These boots don't clean up as well...perhaps a spot of polish would be required..." she muttered, staring at the crimson spot on the black boot with only a hint of irritance, before raising her head and addressing the two men, voice like a serpent in tone. "Gentlemen and not-so-gentlemen, what would the trouble be here? Perhaps one had too much to drink, perchance? Or a disagreement of sorts?"

Awaiting the response, she was well aware the removed man would, in his infuriated state, lash out at the nearest figure, that being her. A wiggle of her fingers on her hand conveyed orders to the Mawile by her on plan of defensive action: intimidate with presence, sweet scent to soothe rage, play rough any who strikes.
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