Thread: Adoption Center
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Old 06-22-2017, 05:04 PM   #247
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Originally Posted by Missingno. Master View Post
The Adoption Center. A mixture of all sorts of Pokémon wound up finding their way there. Some were abandoned by their Trainers. Some were merely dropped off by Trainers who knew they couldn't continue to give them the care they deserved, in the hopes that they might find a better life. And some... some were merely separated from their rightful Trainers by sheer bad luck, and were waiting on said Trainer to return.

How to tell such Pokémon apart from the others? Well, generally, they tend to act especially antisocial towards prospective adopters. Not out of any sort of dislike, but due to a desire to only be adopted by one specific person, whenever that person would find their way to the Adoption Center. Unfortunately, it becomes difficult to discern such Pokémon from Pokémon that are simply antisocial for other reasons, like a Yanma who has so little control over the shockwaves his wings produce that he stays isolated for the sake of everyone else's safety.

In the case of one Maractus, however, exactly what his deal was became as clear as a Yanma's wing one fateful day. This Maractus's story? Recovered off of a sinking ship that was en route to Fizzytopia from Orre. With the shattered remnants of a Poké Ball all around him, and no sign of a human still on board, the Grass-type was assumed to be released, abandoned, and as such was pitied. And yet, the Maractus showed no signs of abuse, no signs of ill treatment. On the contrary, he was found to be in remarkable health, even knowing the Secret Power attack, suggesting the Trainer had put some effort into raising him. He seemed fine, well-adjusted, content, patient... until Trainers started coming in and looking at him. Then he would turn aggressive. Any attempts to pet him were met with a Spiky Shield. Any attempts to talk to him were met with the silent treatment, with a side order of Cotton Guard for good measure. Any attempts to offer the Maractus a spot on one's team? Met with a blast of Secret Power. Visitors very quickly learned to leave this Maractus the hell alone. And Maractus was just fine with that. Any of his fellow prospective adoptees who dared ask about his behavior were met with the same answer. "I'm waiting for someone."

And today, that someone arrived.

The employee behind the counter glanced at the man walking his way. "Can I help you?" he asked.

The man gave a smirk, eyeing the employee from behind his head of spiky blond hair. "I sure fucking hope so," he responded, idly playing with the Shiny Charm he wore around his neck. "I'm looking for a Maractus."

"Well, we got several of those in here," nodded the employee. "Shall I show you to the-"

"Looking for one in particular," interrupted the man. "This one would know how to use Secret Power."

"Wh- wait, that one?" the employee asked incredulously. "Sir, I don't know if you're aware, but the Maractus you speak of has earned himself, ah... a reputation of sorts around here-"

The man chuckled. "I'll bet," he agreed. "Lemme guess- all calm and chill normally, but turns up the aggression when someone comes in to look at him?"

The employee stared. "How do you know?" he asked.

"Call it an educated guess," smirked the man. "Now, you gonna show me to the fucking Maractus?"

"I don't like your language, sir," the employee frowned.

"Nor I your face," retorted the man. "But that's neither here nor there." As he spoke, he lazily dug 50 out of his wallet, clutching the wad of cash in his left hand. "This'll cover it, what with the TM move, yeah?"

"...Yeah, it'll cover it," replied the employee. He led the man off towards the cage where this particular Maractus was being kept. Maybe once he saw how aggressive the Maractus acted, he'd change his tune...

The man's smirk turned to a genuine grin as he approached the cage. A thick layer of Cotton Guard was obscuring the occupant's identity, but this seemed not to bother this man. He dug something out of his pocket, an odd grey device. A P*DA, the employee realized- the Orre region's answer to the Pokédex. The P*DA opened up, and as this man aimed it at the wall of cotton, an image of a Maractus showed up on screen.

"Maractus, the Cactus Pokémon. Type: Grass. Uses an up-tempo song and dance to drive away bird Pokémon trying to prey on its flower seeds. Resides in arid regions," droned the P*DA.

"Rrrractus," came a growl from behind the cotton.

At this, however, the man simply chuckled. "Yeah, you can drop the act, Miror. It's me."

"Marac?" came a hopeful response from behind the cotton. The Grass-type hopped around the wall, and his eyes lit up as he spotted the blond man smiling at him. "Marac! Maractus!" he cheered.

"Hey, wait-" the employee began, but the man opened up the cage. However, this merely prompted the Maractus to jump into the man's arms for a hug. He didn't even run afoul of the spikes. The employee was floored.

"Heh. It is fucking good to see you again, Miror," grinned the man. "Damn shipwreck, am I right?"

"Marac, Maractus," nodded the Maractus, evidently named Miror.

"...Um, sir-" began the employee.

"Yeah, yeah, the fucking money," nodded the man, thrusting the wad of cash his way. "And I take it his ball broke, too, so yeah, got it covered," he stated, producing a Poké Ball from his bright red backpack. "Welcome home, dude," he grinned, tapping the Maractus with the ball. It sucked the Grass-type inside and clicked shut near instantaneously.

"Wait a sec- sir?" said the employee, following the blond man as he headed towards the door. "Who are you?"

As the man reached the door, he turned back to look at the employee. "The name's Gavin," he stated. "Gavin Golurkson. I'm a Shiny hunter from Orre, and thanks to that motherfucking shipwreck, I had to shell out 50 bucks just to get my starter back. Now if you'll excuse me, there's a whole region full of Shiny Pokémon out there. And soon enough, they're all gonna shine for me," he said with a grin. And on that note, Gavin exited the Adoption Center, Miror's Poké Ball in hand.

OOC: Adopting the level 1 male Maractus with Secret Power, putting him in a regular Poké Ball (#1 of 50), naming him Miror, and declaring his Ability to be Storm Drain. Payment: 50

The staffer was on a tirade for hours. No matter natter where he went, or what he did, it was impossible to separate him from the asshole who waked into the Adoption Center that morning. The other staffers did their best to calm him down, but he was livid, grossly offended, and -- at points -- on the verge of quitting.

As he helped the volunteers prepare food plates for the indoor kennels, he could be seen swinging his knife around, to the fright of the young girl standing beside him at the counter, raving about "that blonde prick" who adopted the problem Maractus.

While he scraped out the aviary's dirt floors, the interns spreading seed outside for the wild visitors could hear his rake loudly tamping the ground as he complained to the birds that the "fucking shiny hunter" had the nerve to insult him to his face. His face!

During the evening cage cleanings, each balled up newspaper went into the trash with the same white hot rage, the staffer muttering under his breath about how Gavin and the Maractus were meant for each other, the "pair of aggressive twats."

Tate was manning the front desk, staring at an environmental report for the the swampy region what the bird keeper seemed to call home lately, tsk'ing at something or another, when the staffer marched up, jacket in hand and slammed a piece of notebook paper down on the slick wooden surface. Tate looked up, bewildered.

"What's this?" The manager asked, sounding tired. Something was always happening in this place.

"My two week notice!" the staffer replied, haughty and determined. There was a thud, as Tate's forehead hit the counter.

"You're volunteer labor, you don't have to give two weeks," Tate mumbled against the counter, leaving a wet spot on the wood. "Is this because of that Garret dude?"

"Gavin," corrected the staffer, with great purpose. Tate stood up, pinching both eyes behind thick glasses.

"The public sucks, okay?" said the manager. "Like, we all know that. That's why we work here, with Pokémon. Now, I don't know, go hug Nani, and stop waving knives at my interns, you're scaring them."

Tate pointed across the room, at a Machop in an apron, who was busy sweeping the floor. Looking up, she dropped the broom, and held ot her arms, clearly eager for the hug. The staffer recoiled, not nearly so game, and picked up his notice, evidently thinking twice of it.

"I'll uh-... I'll go rake the Grass-type enclosure," he muttered, as he walked past the disappointed looking Machop. Tate returned to the environmental report, but paused, looking up one more time.

"Trim the Hoppip while you're out there!" yelled Tate, after the staffer.

Adoption of Lv. 01 (M) Maractus confirmed.

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