[NRP] Margarita & Moogermint's Journal

[MoogerMint]

➔ ➔ ➔ Countermeasures
One needs defense as much as they need offense

Margarita's antics were usually a cause for worry and speculation into the mental workings of the child's mind as much as they were a cause for inherent vexation. It didn't help matters that when she got preoccupied trying something new out, or having fun with anything in general, she tended to take it a step too far and remain stoked for it. She could be a single-minded little bugger, even better than most, in that respect.

While it was most commonly an irritating turn of events for everyone involved save for the grimer herself, it also happened to be an elaborate form of leveling up, even though Margarita wasn't even aware of this fact. She was constantly stretching her imagination, using her excessive supply of energy to propel herself toward completing a task she set herself to do, and all while stretching the extent of her stamina. It was actually a pretty well-rounded training regiment, and one that only managed to increase her neurotic abilities.

Despite Terpsichore's best intentions, her insistence to teach Margarita of 'class' and 'knowledge' tended to backfire much more often than help matters. Perhaps it wasn't the best idea to start with fairy tales, but the grimer seemed so much more interested in learning of them than she was of anything else... and gauging her attention was always the hardest part. So the shroomish girl had relayed these stories to the lavender-haired grimer, who in turn let her imagination roam unleashed more flexibly than before.

This time, it was with the help of Paprika. The two of them (or rather, the one of them plus an inanimate object) proceeded to figure out who all had the same genetic composition as a slug. While completely flustered, Terpsichore was at least grateful that some knowledge outside of tall tales managed to get through to her teammate. That was perhaps the single good thing that came of the situation, though.

"Margarita, I need the salt," Nix sighed, repeating himself for the fourth time in a span of five minutes as he continued to hold his hand out. In truth, his food had long since gone cold in his search for the mineral, but the added time spent trying to wrest it from the annoyingly chipper child wasn't adding to the gratefulness.

She giggled, hugging the shaker of salt closer to her face, "But I already gave you some! You melting yet?" Leaning in, the girl tried to examine Nix's face better as she kept the salt to her side, just out of reach of the much taller man. "Hmmn, don't look like you are..." she took note with a scrunching of the face.

"Margarita, what's gotten into you?" Nix sighed, finally saying something else than a request for the shaker. It made her laugh, but didn't offer any further insight.

In fact, she was tempted to add another dash of salt to the man, juuuust to be sure he wasn't going to melt. However, at the last minute, she decided to high-tail it out of there, getting the feeling that if she didn't now she would have to surrender her friend to the 'authorities.' She was a mite too slow, however, and ended up running into a familiar green form, knocking her back and almost against the card table. She coughed out a flabbergasted, "Men in black, men in--! Oh... Endy, hi!"

The scyther seemed a little less than pleased about walking in on the middle of this mishap. He was tempted to turn right back around and forget about it, but decided against it. Maybe it was because he owed Nix, or just because he was fed up with Margarita's hyperactivity, both were plausible answers. "Just do what he says, Margarita," he stated firmly, exasperated already.

But the girl clung more possessively over her shaker of salt, wide-eyed as though trying to get her 'older brother' to feel bad about ordering her to do such a traumatizing thing. She shook her head, and her stance became more defensive. Endymion rolled his eyes, but refused to budge. "C'mon, Endy, move outta the way already!" the girl complained.

"Um, how about... no. Just listen to Nix, okay? It's easier that way," he attempted. Unfortunately, he was using logic to try and get through to the child.

And Margarita was having none of that. She was a slippery one, and she was beginning to feel backed into a corner. She made a dash for the exit, directly to the side of the scyther in front of her, but Endymion was too quick on the uptake. Despite trying to be careful about it, Pursuit wasn't a soft-hitting move, and the boy was already affected by annoyance. It didn't take much more force to knock her fully into the table behind her this time, ending with the lightweight frame of it collapsing under her small body's force. "Watch it!" Nix called out of reaction, concerned for the grimer that appeared so much more delicate now that she was a changed poké-human, "Are you okay?"

Margarita ignored the worry, however, bristling with an irritated scowl from the floor. She wasn't a newcomer to pokémon battles, and she was right up there with the resistance should they befall her. She was, however, quite rusty... and honestly could barely remember her attacks. So the girl decided to hit inspiration and do whatever, which happened to be rather unexpected. Hopping to her feet, she rushed forward, and thumped Endymion on the chest with a well-placed middle and forefinger in a circular array with her thumb. Hopping backward, she waited a couple seconds for a reaction.

Endymion had no idea what the point of that even was, though. He glanced down to see if it did any damage (if he hadn't had an exoskeleton where she prodded, he may have bruised slightly from the impact). Finding nothing, he readied another Pursuit should she try to escape again. Seeing this reaction, Margarita's expression was unreadable but no longer frowning with focus. She made another mad dash for the entrance to the tent, and this time was met with no resistance.

The boy turned around, confused as he watched her run off further into the fields they were stationed in. Nix wandered over to the scyther's side, a questioning glance on his own face, "What... was that?"

The bladed figure turned back to the man, a passing realization visible in his eyes, "I... think she used a new move on me."

* * * * *

Level: 5 --> 15
MARGARITA has learned DISABLE

[[ Word Count: 1,082 ]]

 

[MoogerMint]

➔ ➔ ➔ It`s a Flying Type!
Not everything was meant to earn wings

It was strange how adapting to a new lifestyle made it so difficult to revert to a previous one. It had only been a short span of time in the scheme of things that Margarita had arbitrarily decided to travel the world, only to stumble upon a distracted field researcher shortly after. Who knew the world was full of such strange individuals? To her, everyone else made her feel like she was normal! But they were so funny, too, it made it difficult to ever want to go back to her backwater home!

And backwater it was. She had been told that it was dangerous outside those sewer grates by her other colony members. Nobody was ever seen again once they crossed that threshold, after all; or at least that was the local legend. Well, if that was true, then there was really no wonder as to why it happened that way! There were so many more things to see and do out in the big open world than there was trapped under a colony of surface-dwelling Gaians.

While the passing thought occurred to the girl that she may, deep down, miss her extended family in the only home she had known up until about a year ago, the fact that she never really thought about them too often allowed for a less sharp sting. Honestly, they had better things to worry about anyway. In fact, chances were good that they had long since written Margarita off as dead. It was probably for the better that way, for she wouldn't want anyone dwelling on worry over her, especially when she didn't really worry about them. Wouldn't that make for the awkward understanding?

She didn't understand why she never got so stir-crazy when living in the underground tunnel-workings of the city, so cramped with relatives and various areas that were off-limits. Now that she was out in the exposure of actual weather and degrees of light, she couldn't seem to do enough.

Rather, the grimer corrected herself, there's not enough to do when camped on the outside of town for a month. It felt like she had done everything there was to do while parked out here! Besides, it wasn't like she was allowed to go into town, at least without an escort. Who in their right minds wanted to be responsible for the quirky grimer-girl, though? It seemed as though everyone was sick of her unpredictable antics by this point. She was hard to control, and apparently hard to understand enough to get along with. Geez, everyone around here was just so testy! Nix didn't seem to mind her nature too badly, but he had to keep going into town... something about reporting and his job and... buh, boring stuff. She almost hoped the month was almost over, just so she could have some tolerance around here.

Oh well, it hadn't all been bad. She had helped a lot around the encampment, getting to know her teammates a bit better, meeting a few new pokémon... she even got to see her master Myrrh-Myrrh again! That was as unexpected as well as it was a pleasant surprise!

Glancing to the salt shaker sitting contemplatively to the left of the half-buried rock Margarita found a seat on, the girl felt it was necessary to assure the spy of her status -- despite being neither sentient nor actually capable of reading the grimer's jittery thoughts -- "You're still the best spy there is, Paprika. I still want to learn that, so you're still my mentor, right?" The lavender-hued child looked a bit worried, reaching over to lift the salt shaker to her eye level, scouring the glassy surface for a hint of betrayal, "I'm as loyal to you as ever, you know. Besides, wouldn't this make me even better of a student? Learning other skills at the same time? You want a more intelligent disciple, would you not? Myrrh-Myrrh is sure to help with that, she's so smart!"

Paprika did not flinch, the shaker remaining unshaken in its stony expression.

Margarita's concern melted into a frown before, quite suddenly, giggles erupted from her stomach, "You're so good at that! I know, I'm sorry, you wouldn't hold a grudge like that. You're a spy, but you're no turncoat where it wouldn't benefit. See? I'm getting better!" The child carefully set the powdered mineral down before she even attempted to kick out her feet, wiggling her toes, "I could work on interrogation some, though, couldn't I?" Perfection came with practice, though, so why not try it on the master of the arts and get some feedback in return?

The pilfered table salt refrained from interjecting opinion, as though the poké-girl was fully capable of deriving meaning from the silence. Of course, she was very confident in her abilities to read her friend to such an extent.

The child sat contentedly with the 'answer' provided, a brimming smile on her face as she stared at the scenery, attempting to see the wind as it blew past. She always thought it was bizarre not being able to see something that was everywhere, that one could feel and almost touch... she was starting to think that maybe she actually could see it, but her brain just didn't recognize the image. Or maybe it was like glass!

Glass... that brought another thought to mind through her abstract maze of a mind. Turning to the salt shaker again, the short girl voiced a query, "Could you help me with something else, Rika?" The child waited for a response, but got none in turn; Margarita took this as a cue that the spy was listening, "Everyone else here has been passing the time by learning new moves. Could you maybe... possibly... help me to improve one? Pleeeease?"

The fact that she was speaking with a container of flavoring did nothing to injure her persistence to speak with it as though it were any other individual. She clasped her hands together and wrung them out, sliding off the face of the stone to get her point across. Pausing as though to listen for any indication of breathing from the metal-lidded canister, another grin broke out across her face, "Oh thank you, Pap-rika-rika!" She giggled and rolled back, making a soft gasp as she swatted a couple of fingers to her mouth, "Sorry, I forgot you didn't like it when I played with your name like that!"

Rolling onto her belly, she propped her head up with her hands and started swinging her feet through the air. "Ah, you will be helping me with Fling! I've always wanted that skill, but I never quite got it right!" she began explaining. A frown graced her face momentarily, but a giggle broke through before it completed, "No no, I won't throw you why would I do something that horrible? The pepper was a stunt double that time, I wouldn't have thrown it if it were alive. What, you thought I didn't know that?" She wiggled a bit in place, hopeful that she had actually managed to pull something on her superior despite doubting it was even possible. Settling back down, she shook her head, "No, I don't know Fling specifically. I can throw things, but never with accuracy. With the skill, you apparently can't miss. Got any tips?"

Raising an eyebrow, she seemed to be listening to something that was not audible to the naked ear. She rolled to her side and sprung her torso back upright with an arm. Reaching over to a pocket, she yanked out a notepad that was bare of any lead markings across its blue bars and smirked, "Here's the weapon for now! I found it on Nix's desk. He wasn't using it, and won't be back until late, so... nobody can get mad at me for borrowing it!" Never mind that chucking the notepad at an object may damage it beyond repair, Margarita wasn't built to think that deeply into consequence lest it ruin an otherwise good plan!

Springing a pointer finger toward the nearest tree's base, she indicated a juniper bush before turning back to the salt shaker, "I'm going to try to hit the bush, and once I can get that right, I'll aim for the lower branch on that tree there," she next pointed to the neighboring tree's only low-hanging branch, limbs bare from the winter's chill. "Sound like a good idea, or should I rethink that?" she asked, expression turning serious.

After a moment, Margarita rolled to her feet and faced the bush from where she stood, her stony perch almost resting against her calves. She hopped a little, tossed the notebook a couple of inches into her other palm, and chucked it binding-first. Stumbling a bit, she was curiously perplexed to note that... the notepad hit the direct middle, "Whaaa? Paprika, you're lucky! I've never done that before!" It must have been a fluke, because she had only really been able to hit things a handful of feet away from her before, and this was a good couple of yards.

She retrieved the pad of paper and attempted the move again. And again. Every time she tried, she got a similar result. Scratching her head at the absurdity, she most certainly didn't get it. With a wrinkle of her nose, she snorted, "You didn't even give me any pointers yet, though! If I kept missing before, how can you say it's 'skill I've managed to implement'?" Blinking, she glanced at Paprika in the grass for a few seconds, nodding her head, "Worth a shot. Suppose that would prove it or not, huh?"

Again she brought the notepad back from the bowels of the shrub. Dusting off the twigs that snagged hold, the banded grimer-girl took no heed in the fact that the face of the writing tablet was prominently scuffed, and the bark had cut shallow chocolate markings across the surface. Some of the pages were now tattered, but heck, didn't Nix's old one look like that? There wouldn't be too much of a difference...

Aiming at the tree branch this time, the height-challenged child focused on taking aim a bit longer than she had with the bush. She hadn't even tried before, so she was sure it was either luck or, as Paprika had suggested, actual skill. Could she have learned it so easily, just by trying a little harder?

It seemed Margarita's imaginary friend had her case proven. The notepad flew through the cold afternoon air, only to be cut short with a sharp jab to the thin branch of the tree. Margarita stared in fascination -- and near-disbelief -- at this strange occurrence. It seemed there were many more things about how the world functioned that she was still unaware about.

Who knew that practice would make perfect?

* * * * *

Level: 15 --> 30
MARGARITA forgot HARDEN
and learned FLING

[[ Word Count: 1,807 ]]