HIRE ME, GUILD MASTER! Username: NaomiNaomi. Pokemon: Ivysaur. Pokemon's Name: Fenton. Pokemon's Nature: Hardy. Pokemon's Characteristic: A little quick tempered. Pokemon's Quote: "Keep 'em eyes open at all times!" Guild: Buttery Biscuits Rescuing Group. Prompt Answer:
The Ivysaur stared dumbfounded at the parchment of paper, stiff from both flattery and anxiousness as he read the message again. And again. And again. Suddenly, the slice of paper fell free from the grip of his Vine Whips and clattered softly to the floor. He twitched from the tension of his shifted muscles, croaked a bit, than shouted to the top of his lungs:
"I accept, I accept! By tha of gratitude of tha great Goddess, I accept!"
Fenton hopped around, kicking off into a dance towards an unknown diddy before realizing he was celebrating only in the company of himself. That didn't stop him from gushing uncontrollably though. His outstretched Vine Whips clutched lovingly to the brush of scarlet across his cheeks and he almost giggled out, "Ah, I get ta see the Goddess! Oh, she's sucha sweetie! I couldn' be happier, ahhh!"
Than, realizing again that wasting time fluttering with excitement over his predicament instead of, well, honoring it, Fenton hightailed his way out of his chambers and straight to Divya and Idan to obtain the tribute. To the quirked brow of Divya to the rearing grin of Idan, he left the agency quicker than a panicked Rattata with its curled tail aflame with enthusiasm, darting along the path to the Steel Woods without any sense of urgency. Despite the outer limits of Armonia brimming with hostile rogue Pokemon, the Grass-type had only one thought on his mind: meeting the lovely Inamorata.
The verdant thicket of the Steel Woods brushed along the Ivysaur's pudgy legs as he crawled through, balancing the tribute that was twined around his bulb. It was wrapped neatly in paper to prevent the elements from wearing at it, but it only caused major discomfort for the Grass-type. Each twist and cringe caused the material to slide across the magenta bulb on his back. It made him itchy -- too itchy -- and he had to stop every so little while to relieve himself of such an annoyance. With his drive, Fenton tried to reason he should've been there already, but his attempts came to no avail. His trip was taking longer than usual and to have it worsen, there was a sudden, jolting cry for help in the distance.
Quirking his head up, the Ivysaur blinked and hesitated. "Tha' wasn' a-" Before he could continue, the cry bellowed again and Fenton huffed in contempt. "Ya gots ta be kiddin' me . . . "
Fenton tried to ignore it, trudging forward with the single thought, "Fer tha' Goddess, fer the Goddess," tugging him along, but the shout again tangled his heartstrings. An internal dilemma was set: get the tribute to the Goddess or assist the little cry of help? Finally, he settled on an answer: "Sorry kid, I gots a mission ta complete."
Marching along, the cries of help grew louder, and Fenton clutched his eyes tight and tried his best to ignore it. The temptation was there, driving him to take the turn back, but he pushed along. Suddenly, it dawned on him like a distant memory. The pledge that he made when he first joined Buttery Biscuits Rescuing Group. A simple promise only to himself and himself alone when he was an earnest Bulbasaur: "I want to help people! No matter who they are, I wanna help them!"
"Good grief," Cursing himself in a thousand and one different tongues, Feyton slid left and ran back the way he came. "Hold your Ponytas kid, I'mma comin'!"
The forest's undergrowth fluttered as the Ivysaur sped through it, wiggling the tribute above his back this way and that. When the forest opened up to a clearing, Fenton arched his eyes up to what seemed to be a wounded Meowth in the distance. His speed didn't stall as he raced up to the downed feline and looked him over.
"Hey, kid, are ya all right?" He asked, nudging the cat's forearm. "I'm here, I can 'elp, tell me what's wrong, c'mon . . . "
The Meowth turned his weak face to Fenton, breathing heavily with his mouth held ajar. He croaked, about to answer the Seed Pokemon until his lips curled into a maniacal grin. "Gotcha!" He purred and without hesitation, flexed his claws and hit the Ivysaur with such an intense uppercut, he was punted back by force. Fenton slid to a stop on his side, crumpling the paper of the tribute under his weight. Shakily coming to his feet, he came to see himself amongst a group of Meowths and Persian that pounced from the thicket and encircle him. He was completely surrounded and all of them had their eyes set on the tribute.
"Crud. Ya rogue Pokes don' play fair, huh?" Fenton chuckled, wincing at the pain in his lower jaw.
The Persian laughed. "Mmm~ One can't play fair if they thrive out here, friend. It's a eat or be eaten world."
Fenton grinned, "I don' taste too well, mate. Kinda sour in the middle."
"Well, then, we'll just chew you up and spit you out. Group, get him!"
The swarm of five or so felines suddenly made a mad dash towards the Ivysaur. Flexing their claws out, each one made a swipe for his hinds. Going on the defense, Fenton dodged left, than right to avoid their sharp talons. After a few swift and almost fatal moments, Fenton saw a pattern: they were not aiming for him, but the bindings of the tribute. When one caught his hesitation, he untangled a Vine Whip and flipped them off, downing the group to four.
One of them, angered his friend had fallen, burst through his great strength. Even when Fenton shot his Vine Whip straight towards him, he twisted aside. and suckered himself onto his face. The Ivysaur blanched,, curling his Vine Whips around the Meowth and forcefully trying to pry him off. It wasn't working. The other three, seeing the distraction as a good opportunity, pounced on Fenton next and stripped the tribute off of his back.
"Oi!" He cried when he finally flung the Meowth off. "That's fer the Goddess!"
"Haha!" One of the Meowth's quipped. "If you want it, come and get it!"
Fenton charged at the Meowth, but it in turn propelled it to his friend. Again, the Ivysaur descended on the catcher, and it threw it to another pair of open claws. Slowly and surely, the Ivysaur began to lose his patience of his little game of Aipom in the middle. He stopped for a bit, trying to quell his temper, but his try came to nothing.
"What's the matter, friend? Giving up already?" The Persian asked, waving his tail about in delight.
"Give it back, mate. It ain't yers and ya know it." Fenton growled.
The Persian chuckled heartily, "You'll be surprised what petty items can get around here, friend. Now, why don't you carry on and act as if nothing happened here?"
"I ain't leavin' 'til I git tha' back. It's fer someone special."
"Give it back." Fenton held a scrutinizing gaze with the Persian, who seemed untouched by the Ivysaur's glaring intimidation. "I mean it, mate, hand it ova'."
"Or what?" The cat granted him a toothy grin. "You’ll tattle on us?”
“Far, far worse, mate.” Fenton’s bulb began to grow. “One last time, give it up.”
“Not going to happen, friend.”
Fenton pursed his lips. “Yer choice,” and without any second delay, a large glob of green sprouted from the Ivysaur’s back and was launched at the group. You see, Fenton isn’t Fenton when he’s angry. Even worst comes his impatience when he has a mission on hand. His headstrong confidence and bubbling temper are like soot and salt. Take a step in his path and be prepared to be shoved out of way; even forced.
One by one, the Meowth’s fell to Fenton’s energy ball, until the remainder of the scene was Fenton alone huffing in the middle of six downed souls. He trudged over to the tribute, grasped it up with a Vine Whip, and slumped out of there. By sundown, he reached the limits of Inamorata, and brought the wrapped parcel to her. Despite his bedraggled appearance, Fenton did not hesitate to slide off the paper and present it to her in full via a pair of outstretched vines.
“F-Fer ya, milady,” Fenton offered, redder than a sunburned Jigglypuff. “Itsa um, the tribu- Ah!” Suddenly, the tribute crumbled under its own weight, and the Ivysaur’s small smile diminished. He sputtered in disbelief, trying to piece it together, and couldn’t help holding back his excuse, “M-Milady, oh goodness, I don’- I was comin’ here an’ I got inta a fight an’- These Meowths an’- They attacked me an’-”
“Oh goodness!” Inamorata cried suddenly, cutting the Seed Pokemon off. She shook his head and granted the Ivysaur a pleading pair of eyes. “Never mind the tribute! Are you all right?”
Fenton flushed. “I- Yes. I’mma doin ‘right, mi- um, milady. Just a little worn . . . “
Inamorata sighed with a small smile of relief. “Oh, thank the skies . . . Just for me, you fought off such devilish Pokemon. I am truly honored. Thank you.”
Fenton only welled a deeper shade of red. “O-Of course, milady.” he replied. It was all worth it just for that smile.
Give us a creative quest: A famished Snorlax took the generosity of a poor Butterfree a little too seriously and has eaten the entirety of her Oran crops! To top the predicament, he has fallen asleep in front of the stream providing water to her irrigation system. Using any means necessary (but no physical harm, of course), wake the bottomless pit from his deep slumber and provide the Bug-type an Oran Berry so she can replant her orchid.
Sorry its so long. Hnnng. I spoiler'd the response to keep this post from stretching the page.
Flicker: -pauses for a moment, a slight frown as Ludwig isn't exactly giving the reaction he had hoped for- ....herm... -attempts to make the shadow face have long fangs before they melt into a drippy sort of ghoulish face- ... ? >,>