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 Posted: Fri Apr 22, 2011 6:52 am
Locale: Lucky Island, a pier leading out from a boardwalk and beach, near town. Late morning.
The bright light of the coming noon reflected on the sides of a glass tea-tumbler, highlighting the light reddish liquid inside as it did the light chop of the vast seas surrounding the chain. It was very warm to the touch, the heat seeping easily from the glass to faded jeans. It was easy to forget it was there, and it sat nearly full on the worn wood of the pier, next to a lonely fishing rod, set up with line dangling in the water. No bites, not one.
Breaking away from her sketchbook, Ivy plucked the tumbler from its spot and brought it up for a sip. Lemon and honey herbal tea with a slice of candied lemon floating on top. It was sweet and smelled lovely, coating the throat as it went down. A small sigh escaped her lips as she put it down and tucked long tendrils of wavy brown hair behind her ears. Bringing her knees to her chest, she tapped on the paper with the end of her pencil and looked out onto the open sea. Not much in the way of excitement, it seemed, but for a few boats way out and the occasional giggle of a family from the nearby beach.
Watching the water crash into the swells and rocks below, she followed a lone Magikarp as it flopped against the little waves, probably unsure of how it was dropped off into the shallows. It struggled, and Ivy leaned her chin on her knees, thinking to cast her rod right there towards it. However, as soon as she moved her hand past her tea, the fish pokemon breached and dropped with a small splash back over the jetties. It swam quickly, frightened, and was soon but a sparkle under the water's surface.
Ivy pushed the glasses back towards the bridge of her nose and smirked, leaning back so that her legs hung over the edge of the pier. She set her sketchbook on her lap and began whipping her pencil over the paper, forming the beginnings of a magikarp.
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Posted: Sat Apr 23, 2011 11:53 am
"Nothing biting, huh?"
The voice speaking was soft, as if any louder would scare the already absent fishes. Steps came closer and a man in his early 30s sat down a couple of feet away from her, settling down his own fishing rod. "Its the same as the other piers. You might have better luck renting a boat and go a mile or so into the water"
Raziel tilted his head just so, so his good left eye could take a better look at Ivy and her drawing. A plume of his hair covering his right eye and eyepatch. "or are you just here to pass the hours?"
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Posted: Sat Apr 23, 2011 5:47 pm
So absorbed was Ivy in her sketchbook that even Raziel's soft voice startled her. She turned her head just enough so that she could make him out in the corner of her eye. Dropping her drawing hand into her lap, she paused, looking back out towards the waves with an inward scoff.
"Fish must not be hungry today, I guess." Ivy's voice was also soft and wistful, carried by another sigh. She dropped her gaze to the light sketch, then stole a glance at the twice-forgotten tea. She could feel her shoulders tense as the man sat down, the creaking from the salt-stained wood just audible over the crashing of the water into the pillars beneath them. The line of her own rod was pulled gently by the wind and waves, the spinner whirring in time, mocking them. It was true, she would probably have better luck out in the open sea, but she'd be more vulnerable too, and it wasn't a risk she wanted to take alone. Shaking her head of her thoughts, she leaned her head back into a briny breeze, locks flowing like flags on a sailship as she turned more to face him.
"More like waiting for something to happen. Though luck seems to have different plans." She smirked and pulled a leg back up on the pier, then glanced over him and his fishing rod.
"How about you?"
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Posted: Sat Apr 23, 2011 9:19 pm
1622 watched silently from several feet away. She was mostly interested in the skyline, but every now and then she would steal a glance at the people nearby...wishing she was part of that world but not sure how to get in. For the moment, she settled for signaling the Sawsbuck next to her.
He released a round of Aromatherapy, sweetly scenting the breeze that wafted towards Ivy and Raziel. "Thanks, Gaillard," 1622 whispered, with what little voice she had. She rubbed his neck.
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Posted: Sun Apr 24, 2011 9:44 am
Picking up the netball at the end of his line, he coated it with some brownish paste before lazely throwing it out into the water to join Ivy's. He took out a thermal and poured himself a cup of strong black coffee. "Its my day off...so, i am here to let the day pass by me with no mere thought but what's for dinner."
He brought the rim of his cup up to his lips, but before he could take a sip, a sweet aroma invaded his senses. Craning his neck slightly, he spied his surroundings to see what could cause it. ".....does that smell familiar to you?"
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Posted: Sun Apr 24, 2011 10:05 am
Ivy watched intently as Raziel prepared his line, smiling to herself at the little 'plop' the ball made as it was cast. Glancing briefly at her own line, she made a mental note to buy more netballs, and maybe some poffins or treats for the walk home.
"Day off, mm? A great day for one." She mused, watching as he unscrewed the top of his thermos. She was about to ask what he did for a living when he reached for his coffee. The thick, bitter smell of the coffee tickled her nose and mixed with the salt in the air, as well as the strange floral sweetness that suddenly wafted over them. She knew it couldn't be her tea or his coffee, and she'd been to the sea often enough to know that it wasn't anything that was native to the area. Picking herself up, careful not to knock over her tea, she stood lazily on the pier and stretched her arms over her head, using her sketchbook as a makeshift visor. Looking down at the rocks and sand, she could see nothing that would give off a scent even close to that.
"Unless you just put on some cologne..." her voice trailed off as she took another breathe from the Sawsbuck's attack. "...Maybe a vendor from the boardwalk or something? Smells good."
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Posted: Sun Apr 24, 2011 11:28 am
"I don't wear cologne....it alerts pokemon that you are coming..."
Raziel took a very deep breath through his nose, and as his lungs pushed the air right back out, a serious look came to his face. He watched Ivy look around for any sign of what it might be, but by her expression, she seemed quiet as clueless as he was. "Its not from a vendor....the most i can tell you is that is pokemon related....however, I don't know if its the scent of a grass pokemon, or if its a move. I really haven't expanded much research on flowering pokemon yet..."
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Posted: Sun Apr 24, 2011 4:45 pm
1622 puzzled over whether to send Gaillard out to soothe their concern, or to hide him. She hadn't actually captured him, since she had no money for pokeballs, and if she let them see him he might very well become their next pokemon. She also wasn't certain she wanted to be seen herself, though at the same time she burned with the desire to meet other people.
1622 bit her lip, fighting with herself for what was not the first time.
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Posted: Mon Apr 25, 2011 1:30 am
If the girl and her sawsbuck were still struggling between the want of companionship and the fear of being seen, then, well... they wouldn't have to mull over it any longer.
"Nanners!" a young girl cried (perfectly unashamed, surprisingly) as she ran towards the pair, her hand outstretched. Distress was evident in her features, but even more was the cause of it: a large tropious of considerable bulk and height who was approaching the source of the sweet scent. Although it went at a leisurely pace, its size made even the simplest of steps a bound for its much smaller trainer, who struggled to keep up, and the sight of both of them would have been enough to reveal the unfortunate pair's location.
Despite the obvious command, Nanners was too enticed by the smell to obey, giving little more than a soft grunt in acknowledgment. It was not out of hate that he did this, but the fact that the trainer was still new to him. She had not caught him on her own but had, instead, received him as a gift, which did little to aid her in garnering his respect and, while it was true he was a docile creature and usually did as requested, it did not mean he obeyed everything he heard, especially not now, when the reward for doing such was so much less appealing than the soothing scent wafting around his form. Thankfully, his new trainer was not the type to force her Pokémon back into their Poké Balls, and he continued on his way with little to stop him.
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Posted: Wed Apr 27, 2011 7:02 pm
Craning her neck into the scent, Ivy closed her eyes, and ran a hand through her hair. It was quite enticing, and come to think of it, she hadn't smelled anything that distracted her so much before. Raziel's comment made sense, and she murmured her agreement. Figuring Raziel must be some kind of scientist or researcher, she almost felt embarassed that the thought hadn't even crossed her mind with all the schooling she had done back at the Academy for battle strategy, among other things.
"Mmm... a pokemon, huh? I wonder what ki--," her voice bottomed out as a trainer's voice yelling "Nanners!" and the stomping of a large Tropius overtook it. Whipping her head towards the crashing of the big brown pokemon, she didn't know whether to smirk or be slightly afraid. They were relatively safe on the pier, yet the expression of delight on Nanners' face was pretty hard to ignore. She shook her head, taking a step towards Raziel.
"Do you think that's the culprit?" She wondered, standing on tiptoe to see where the pair was running to. She couldn't clearly see 1622 and the Sawsbuck, though she could make out a sillhouette as she shielded her eyes with her sketchbook and pointed at it with her free hand. "Or... that?"
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Posted: Thu Apr 28, 2011 8:43 am
The vibrations of such heavy weight pokemon reached Raziel well before the he heard the girl's voice, he wonder why the girl didn't just called the pokemon back to its pokeball. Why put people and property in danger? One of the good points of pokeballs is being capable of getting rampaging pokemon out of the scene as quickly as possible. He was distracted from his thoughts by Ivy's stepping closer to him.
"Hmm?" It took him a second to recall what she had said. "Well...at the top of my head, I can't say...but..." He took out a modified pokedex and flip it open, quickly imputing the pokemon's name. "No, the only scent move Tropius knows is Sweet Scent, and tropius itself smell of fruit. The aroma engulfing us is not Sweet Scent, this is more subdue and flowery, the strength of Sweet scent kind of makes you gag a bit...." He turned to look at the second figure she had point out. "Perhaps, but i can't say I can identified it from here."
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Posted: Thu Apr 28, 2011 12:50 pm
1622 held her ground, asking the Tropius via body language to respect her space.
(what else is there to say? XP)
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Posted: Thu Apr 28, 2011 7:50 pm
The strange girl’s message was clear, even when not outright stated, and Nanners found himself slowing to a stop, his head lowered and tilted questioningly towards the human. He wondered how such a conflicted situation could have come about, with the aromatherapy luring him in, and the wills of both his trainer and the girl trying to keep him out. Didn’t they like it, too? Was it not as comforting to them as it was to him? It was true he could smell it from far away, but what was wrong with wanting to be closer?
Confused, he looked awkwardly around, wondering if it would be best to stay or leave. Neither option seemed to come with happy results and, upset, he began curling his neck inward, trying to get at the fruit around his neck with little success.
Faylinn was panting by the time she reached Nanners’ halted form, but it didn’t stop her from exclaiming a victorious “Gotcha!” as if she had caught up to him by will alone, and not because his legs had stopped their forward march.
She clung to his long neck momentarily in a brief hug of relief before clambering upon his back, plucking one of his banana-like fruits as she did so in a way that showed she had done the same many times before. She peeled it and proffered it to the now tropius, who now appeared appeased (if his eager chewing and delighted cries were anything to tell by) and, from her perch, would have looked around to see what exactly it was that had allured him if something else – larger, louder, and certainly much more conspicuous despite having been noticed only from the corner of her eye – caught her attention.
“Look!” she yelled, motioning with her banana-clad hand and unintentionally making Nanners turn with it. “The sea!”
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