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Old 07-10-2017, 09:38 AM   #74
134
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Join Date: Feb 2017
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La Ville des Farceurs et Voleurs


Raves:

You concoct a plan to both assert dominance, and get under the drunkard's skin. The Mawile obeys your orders, taking the Pangoro's paw in his own with a grip suiting of a Steel-type such as himself; it's firm, too much so, but the Pangoro is a big girl and she squeezes back tightly, with enough for to break brick. She doesn't mean to hurt him, of course, she just doesn't know her own strength; the two are now locked in a vicious hand-holding, neither of which are willing to let go for very different reasons. Mawile looks a little uncomfortable with this turn of events, but he is both a consumate gentleman and eternally dutiful, and gives his new suitor a wink and a nudge before blowing her a sweet kiss, which loats up to her on winds as delicate and innocent as the wings of faeries. When it strikes her, she seems to recoil, the gesture burning her skin for some reason, but a lifetime spent weathering her body to fighting and some dark inclinations leave her perhaps a bit enticed by the strange, slightly painful experience. She leers down at him, intrigued, which catches him off guard and renders him momentarily defenseless; which is unfortunate because she's become quite worked up and takes her frustration out on him, her large body descending upon him in a crushing, amorous embrace.

The bouncer, still watching, has lost all composure and has descended into utter laughter, as the drunkard -- completely through with both your mouthiness and his Pokémon's lascivious behavior -- fishes another Pokéball from his pocket.

"I knew you were useless," he spits at the Pangoro, who looks up, startled and a bit wounded. "I never should have traded for you. Worthless, stupid, ugly fuckin'-"

At this point, the Pangoro bursts into tears. She pulls away from Mawile and buries her face in her paws, weeping loudly. The drunk rolls his eyes, and tosses his Pokéball into the air, summoning a massive creature covered in vines -- a Tangrowth. It whips the ground with its arms, ready for a fight.

"I'm sick of your mouth, bitch," the drunk slurs. It doesn't look like the Tangrowth will be nearly so easily charmed as the Pangoro, who is utterly devastated by her trainer's cruel words. Looks like you're in for a real fight this time. What will you do?





Le Cimetičre des Cœurs Oubliés


Maskerade:
Staryu and Munchlax rush to see what's going on in the bushes, and you're left with no choice but to follow, despite this very much being not your problem. Combing through the brambles and the branches, what you find is a little grotesque: one of the gourd-like eggs has been burst open, and two jet-black Rattata are feeding on the mushy innards. Three more are trying to get to the rest of the clutch, but the parents are working valiantly to fend them off, even as their lost egg is drug further away by the two feeding upon it. They swing their wispy, hair-like vines at the rodents, who gnash their teeth in return. The Gourgeist shriek in unearthly tones and the Rattata screech and hiss. The two that feed make sloppy, wet noises, and their claws scrape loudly on the egg casing. The symphony of sounds is eclectic and overwhelming and perhaps a bit nauseating to boot.

The large male tries to drive them off with a Shadow Ball, but though it hits two of the three, it doesn't seem to do much damage. The Gourgeist, however, do not seem to fare very well against the many Bites they are suffering at the hands of their assailants. The female takes a particularly bad Crunch and collapses, breathing hard. In fear for his mate, the male performs a Pain Split, but this leaves him quite worse for wear as well, and he still has to fight to defend his clutch.

Odds are, they will not be able to defend their nest alone for much longer. The Rattata have them outnumbered, and have the type advantage. You could help them, but you're right -- it isn't your problem. What will you do?


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