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 Posted: Sun May 01, 2011 3:20 pm
 Full-sized images: [Skitty] and [Poochyena]
Haaay gais. ;D
IT'S RP TIME. GET YOUR RP ON. YEAH BABY.
Price: FREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
Prize: Skitty and Poochyena! There will be TWO winners, so no. You don't get both of them. >8T Silly trainer. I'm only giving you one pokeball.
Starts: Sunday, May 8
Ends: Sunday, May 15
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Posted: Mon May 02, 2011 8:18 pm
Rules!
Basic shop rules apply! No whining, begging, etc.
Be original and creative; don't copy someone else's entry or anything of the sort. If I find out that you plagiarized your entry, you're out of the contest.
You are allowed to edit your entry up until the end date. If you do edit your entry, please leave an obvious note somewhere saying that you did. :I
Quality over quantity! To put it bluntly: I don't want to sit there and read 10 paragraphs of fail, but I also don't want some kind of 2 paragraph cliffhanger! Do the best that you can, but you don't need to feel like your entry needs to be some kind of novel. It's good to be descriptive, but don't spend three paragraphs talking about the color of the sky.
Your entries should be in the third-person - as if you are roleplaying. Make sure to check for spelling and grammar~
You may not co-own or enter for a friend/give away your patient.
These two are not RP required, but I would really appreciate it if you did RP them.
Yes, you can give them powers in your entry (they should still be reasonable), but if you happen to win then you still have to get said powers approved in the power and trait approval thread.
Information!
No! You will not win both of them.
No! Skitty and Poochyena do not have to be connected to one another in any way, shape, or form. They can be childhood friends or complete strangers or even enemies. I don't care.
No! You do not need to answer all of the questions in the prompts/background.
Yes! You can enter this contest with a friend so that your entries correlate with one another. Just remember to leave me a small note saying that you guys are entering together so that I know.
No! Just because you enter together with a partner does not mean that both of you will win. Sorry, but I might tear you guys apart. ;A;
If you have any questions, feel free to PM me! <:
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Posted: Mon May 02, 2011 8:29 pm
LE PROMPTS!SkittyBackground: You grew up in a nice place. It's pretty obvious by the way that you dress; you lived a relatively comfortable life before coming to the Asylum. But exactly how cushy was your life? Were you the daughter of a senator? Or were you just a spoiled only-child? How did your upbringing affect you? How exactly did you end up in the Asylum anyway? How does it feel to be in such an unfamiliar and grimy place? Are you shocked? Angry? Scared? PoochyenaBackground: Life wasn't always easy. You didn't always have someone there to give you a hug and you definitely didn't always have a meal sitting on the table. Did you grow up on the streets? Were you a filthy street urchin? Or maybe you were an unfortunate child trying to help make ends meet for your starving family? What kind of person are you: are you a little nicer to people because you know what it's like to have a sucky life or maybe... maybe you're bitter? And... what the hell did you do to get yourself thrown into the Asylum? Prompts!Prompt 1: Confrontation You've just arrived at the Asylum and somehow you've already gotten into some kind of trouble. You were following after some little pichu kid and now you're being chased by one of the... not-so-friendly patients. Do you stay back and try to fight the violently patient or do you try to escape? What do you do to escape? Prompt 2: Fresh Air You were wandering through the Asylum when you managed to find your way to the court yard. How do you feel about this? Prompt 3: Hunger Hunger was beginning to set in and you were lucky enough to find your way to the cafeteria. It's gross, crowded, a bit dank... what is your reaction to the "food" that was served to you? [size=18][b][u][/u] USED THE [strike]MASTERBALL[/strike] POKEBALL![/b][/size]
[size=9][b]Pokemon:[/b] (poochyena or skitty)
[b]Name:[/b] (name that you're picking for the pokemon)
[b]Background:[/b] (give me some background info on the character)
[b]Prompt:[/b] (which prompt did you choose?)
[b]Entry:[/b] (type away~!)[/size]
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Posted: Sun May 08, 2011 7:50 am
Entries!
BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH
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Posted: Sun May 08, 2011 1:30 pm
.F r u t i e P o p. USED THE MASTERBALL POKEBALL!
Pokemon: Poochyena
Name: Bryson
Background: Bryson wasn't always a homeless rebel that just happened to be held in prison ever so often. He was a good child, always doing what he was told and never lying to his parents for if he did, he would immediately throw up and apologize right after. What changed him? Well let me tell you up front: His parent's did NOT die. I repeat, they did not die. He wasn't bullied. He didn't have a life threatening event. Bryson just... snapped. By the age of fourteen he began to shape himself. He went from a blond prep to a black haired goth, only to find out he didn't fit in with either. That's when he noticed her, The girl of his dreams. Skitty, a little darling he had his eyes on. Sadly, she was dating the jock of the school and she was rich. She was out of his league. He dropped out of school, abandoned his family, and slept n the streets. Soon drugs and cutting himself were his only way to numb the pain till the main event happened. He tried to stand up to Skitty, who was being abused by her boyfriend, only to pull out a knife on him and threaten to kill him. When Skitty tried to stop him, he slashed her, raped her due to his emotional state, and ran away. He was found later that day in an alley surrounded by homeless cats, and taken in and sent to the Asylum as they found him mentally unstable. If he could go back in time, he wished he could take it all back.
Prompt: Hunger
Entry:
"Hey there pretty boy!"
A voice echoed after the young man in grey as he walked down the dark hallways. At least there was some light for the path before him. The boy stopped, turned around to see if there was anyone following, and continued on his way. He could hear the sounds of what could be silverware getting louder and louder till there was a slight entranceway catching up to him. The room was no different in lighting but there actually people in th-
CRASH
"Get the ******** off me!"
"I'm going to kill you!"
Right before Bryson's yellow eyes were two patients fighting each other on a table. Well, one was trying to push the other off as he had thumbs pushed into his eyes. Screams of pain filled the room, sending slight shivers down his spine. Was this the place he was to be subject to for most of his life? How was he going to survive? He scooted past the crowd that circled, chanting for a winner, to the counters of workers in aprons and hairnets serving... mush?
"What do you want kid?"
'Kid'? He was not a ki- grrrRRRROWL! W-was that his stomach? It seemed to be days since he last ate a meal but this stuff before him... It wasn't even edible! "I'll take whatever." He grabbed a plate from the stack to his left and held it out to the the dirty worker in front of him. Slop was planted onto it and given back. He could have sworn it just moved. He took it to an empty table and played with it with his fork. The sounds had stopped and the fight ceased to exist, only the noise of other patients talking to each other surrounded him. 'Don't make eye contact' was his only thought as he pushed the slop away from him. There was no way he could live through this.
edited May 15th, 8:18pm EST
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Posted: Sun May 08, 2011 6:35 pm
x blame it on the ---- x USED THE MASTERBALL POKEBALL!Note: I am working with Ishmeluv in the role-play response. Our posts will correspond with each other. Pokemon:
Poochyena
Name:
Striker
Background:
Striker was abandoned on the streets when he was just a kid. His mother and father were already struggling with their lives, and didn't need nor want a child to have to struggle along with them. At first the seven year old was angry, destroyed that he was left alone to fend for himself at the age of seven. It started with minor fits of being upset, breaking down on the streets, and shifted into rage, attacking random people for food. It was around this time he developed chronic headaches and black outs, which he never quite understood. But he got his own family, a group like him, of dogs that were left by themselves. These "mutants" seemed very much so willing to help care for him. Or at least he called them mutants, or special people. Some even talked about a place where they escaped miraculously from hell on earth. He never really listened to it, instead, doing his part to help his little "pack". After all, they had to worry about food in the now, not in the past. If they couldn't eat and fend today, there would be no tomorrow. Taken under the wing of their pack leader, Striker did all he could to help, up until he was sixteen years old, and something that changed his life happened. (Life changing event will be in the role-play prompt.)
Prompt:
Fresh Air
Entry:
He hated here. Absolutely hated it. It was almost like everything he did, everything he wanted to do, was denied. He didn't like following all these rules, or wondering from one place to another on a set schedule. He wasn't some house pet, bred to do whatever they pleased when they pleased it. No! He was Striker! He was a tough boy with a tough past, and like hell was he going anywhere without some sort of fight! Which was why now, at this very moment, Striker was following his own path. He was walking on his own time, away from anyone else. He didn't know if any one person was following him, and honestly, he didn't care. He was going to do what he wanted at the moment, and he wasn't going to let a single thing stop him.
Striker's tail flicked as he turned another corner in the large facility. The floor squeaked under his shoes, making his ears flick in irritation. He glanced down and then back up, only to see a door that looked like it had a window on it, even though said window was shaded and bared. Curiosity struck the dog like creature, and he moved forward in the shadows, wandering quietly toward the door, before peeking through the window, eyes flinching closed from the brightness. The flinch caused him to hit the handle, and open the door, which, in turn, made Striker stumble out into the brightness of the courtyard.
The first time he'd been outside since he got into this joint.
Striker's ears flicked back, flinching some, before his nose twitched, the smell of the air catching him off guard. He flickered his gaze open, staring around the bright outside world. It'd been forever since he'd been outside. He'd felt like a house pet, locked up in there, and it was driving him insane. More so than he already was. Walking quietly forward, he wandered about curiously, eyes flickering, his tail swishing in an almost joy like manner from the prospect of being able to run with out worry about a corner. But something seemed to go wrong. His eyes flickered, almost flashed a darker shade, his hands flying to his head, a sharp pain crushing into his head. He leaned back against the wall of the building, eyes closing, his bangs falling between his fingertips to brush against his face.
Flashback:
He was running, and running fast. For some reason, something was chasing him. He honestly hated being chased. He didn't mind attacking, but being chased was something he despised. He remembered their pack leader yelling at them to scatter, and so, Striker ran. And ran. And ran. He wheeled around city streets, hopped over random things in his path, and skidded through busy streets, getting honked at as he did. He could hear the shouts from people behind him, screaming at someone to stop him, to grab him, to just get him back to them. But there was no way Striker was going to get captured by anyone! Like hell!
But, his headache was coming back. He had them often now, and usually he blacked out when he did. Striker lifted a hand, rubbing his temple with a wince, before he turned another corner, only to screech to a stop. He blinked, bright eyes locking on the scene before him. A group of people seemed to be pulling an almost pampered looking female into a van. She had a lot of pink, and looked like himself almost, with the tail and ears and the like. The pink female seemed resilient. Scared. His eyes closed tight, a sharp pain hitting the back of his head, before he was feeling like he was falling into nothingness, blackness.
In all reality, Strike's eyes had snapped open, and he growled loudly, feral like, eyes almost flashing a darker shade than his normal bright color. He ran forward, ears back, tail floofed up as if his fur was on end. He was there in seconds, snarling, attacked the men, biting into their arms and throats, slashing out. He fought, and slashed, and dodged, doing all he could, and taking some injuries as he did. He could feel blood running down part of his shoulder, but ignored it, snarling and moving forward in the attack. His eyes flashed to the girl, already in the truck, before he wheeled to hit someone else. It happened in a flash, but somehow, he was down, and he was loaded into a truck with the female that he had been trying to save. He got one last glimpse of her, before the world was black around him.
End Flashback.
Head pounding, Striker leaned forward, hands on his knees, using it as support. His eyes flickered up, staring at nothing but a large gate. His head was pounding, but it seemed to be easing away. He sighed, lifting his eyes up toward the sky. He didn't remember anything past him seeing the female being put into the van. After that, it was blank, a darkness. And when he awoke, he was alone in a large room, with no one there. It was a few hours, and then some stupid tests were ran, and he was put into a cell or something. He didn't know what was going on. He sighed, eyes flickering closed, his head leaning back, ears pinned against his head.
Striker missed his freedom. Edited to have more back story on: May 09.
Will probably edit again when Ishmeluv posts her entry.
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Posted: Sun May 08, 2011 7:03 pm
USED THE MASTERBALL POKEBALL!
Pokemon: poochyena
Name: Bite
Background: Bite was kicked out as a youth to the streets by his father. He never knew his mother, and what he remembered of his father was someone constantly grouchy. Bite was raised by his father to be strong, to be someone who did not need to rely on others to survive, and to be smart. The daily smacks to his head quickly taught him to 'man up' so as to not embarrass himself by being a pansy boy. After a particularly bad day, his father kicked him out of the small garden shed they had been calling home. Bite, tired of his constant abuse, took it upon himself to 'man up' and never looked back. Perhaps if he had tucked his tail between his legs and crept back he would not have ended up in the trouble he had fallen into. In order to survive, Bite became part of a gang of street toughs. He was not top dog in the gang, but his ability to take a beating and his nature to never back down earned him mild respect. Following the leader of the gang, Bite engaged in questionable activities. Namely, grouping up on lone or couples walking the streets at night or when in a place out of sight. Robbing these people of their wallets and jewelry, Bite managed to ensure he had enough to eat at least and was able to crash at the homes of those in his gang when the nights were particularly cold or wet. Luck turned on Bite eventually, and on one of his attempts to shake down a seemingly defenseless young man, he found himself staring at the wrong end of a badge. His mates fled, scattering like so many scared mice, and left Bite to deal with the man that had turned the tables on them. Bite was not about to back down of course, as that was what his old man had taught him, and he had engaged in a scuffle with the man...a rather poor decision on his part, as the lone man turned out to be a part of a operation meant to catch his particular gang. Bite lived up to his name and managed to leave a good gash in the man's shoulder before being peeled off and cuffed. Bite was taken to jail and locked up with a few of his fellows who had not managed to escape. In anger, Bite turned on them and left a nasty gash on the face of one of the ex-gang members before Bite was hauled out of the holding pen and placed in solitary confinement. From there, Bites aggressive nature led the officers to believe sending him to the Asylum for a time would be the wisest action. Bite is filled with anger over the constant string of abandonment. His mother, his father, and then the people he had thought he could count on the most.
Prompt: Number Three
Entry: With a nose like his, Bite knew he'd find food eventually. He could track just about anything down once he had caught a whiff of it's scent. In a place like this though he had to admit he had a hard time tracking down the source of food itself. Perhaps it was because, as he entered the cafeteria and looked upon the food on random patients trays, it didn't strike him as actual food. Bite gave a small sniff of the air and then stuck his tongue out the corner of his mouth in a disgusted expression. Bite crossed over to where the trays were set and slid it along the line. His yellow and red eyes flickered from the tray, and to the staff member doling out the portions. Bites tail curled between his legs as he looked at..goop? What was it? It was squishy and yellow orange. It looked like melted wax. Bite looked up at the server and moved along down the line to where he picked up a plastic spoon.
Bite carried the tray to a table with a empty section and sat down. Despite the large crowd jostling about in the cafeteria, he was grateful for the three seats that were empty. The food looked unappetizing. He didn't want to eat it. So instead he poked it with his spoon for a few moments. He was hungry though, and he needed something to keep his strength up. With a soft sigh, Bites ears pinned back and he poked the spoon into the waxy substance. Lifting it to his lips, he tried to ignore the overpowering smell of damp and mold that was making him feel a little sick. Bite managed to get the spoonful into his mouth, but the strange taste and texture caused his throat to close up. He gagged on the bite and turned his head away. This was -not- food! This was...was melted earwax and mushroom tofu or something! Bite pushed the tray away and glared angrily at the food. He both could not and had to eat this garbage!
Bite glanced unhappily at the servers and felt his stomach rumble. If he had some dirt, maybe if he rolled this stuff around in it, then it would taste somehow better. Shaking his head, Bite attempted to scoop more of the goop up, but he let it flop back down onto the tray. Okay...maybe he could find something better to eat...one of the staff members had to have some real food. If he could just sniff it out then maybe he could get them alone. If the old bully tactics had worked on the street then they ought to work here yeah? He just needed to find himself a new gang... Bite's eyes swept over the gathered crowd. Or...he needed to pull one together. Bite's lip curled upwards as he narrowed his gaze. He'd just keep an eye out for some of the weak willed ones. That would help take his mind off the bland taste of this wax. With a happy growl, he shoved the food into his mouth, and cringed as he gagged again. Ugh!
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Posted: Tue May 10, 2011 12:41 am
USED THE MASTERBALL POKEBALL!
Pokemon: Skitty
Name: Antoinette
Background: Antoinette came from a family that had a long history of mental sickness and instability. Her father was born sickness-free, as well as intelligent and highly ambitious. Years of college taking computer programming and shop class allowed him to create a line of life-like robotic kittens to rival Zhu Zhu Pet Hampsters. The idea caught on quickly, and he rose in fame. He was soon married to a woman obsessed with looks and beauty and they had a single child, a unique little girl born without the ability to speak. Or so they thought. From a young age the little girl was commanding and seemed to be without emotion. The servants also seemed to die around her, often committing suicide under suspicious circumstances. Still, they treated their only child like a young princess, and gave her whatever she pleased. When her mother finally refused a request, she mysteriously disappeared soon after. With the loss of his wife her father fell to the family insanity, killing himself as well. In his last letter he blamed his mute daughter for the death of his wife, and she was carted away to the asylum, still commanding, still pompous, still arrogant, and still dangerous.
Prompt:Prompt One
Entry:
The little girl without a voice graced the Asylum with her presence, walking the halls silently, learning her environment and plotting the best way to get what she wanted. Those who looked upon the girl smiled adoringly, swayed by her charm and cute looks, unable to help themselves. She simply smiled, and staff threw themselves at her feet to give praise and adoration. With her doll-like looks and innocence any who read her file could not believe that such a sweet and young girl could possibly kill her own mother.
Today was a day much like any other. Antoinette walked the halls of the Asylum, learning the ins and outs of how this place was run. She hadn't been here very long, only a few short weeks, but already she had many under her sway. So many of the patients here were sick *****, actively scamming on little boys and girls, making her job ridiculously easy, especially as nearly all of them were male. Many children in her position would be scared to be surrounded by so many psychopaths, but her mind was cold and analytical, and she saw this as just another opportunity.
Today she strolled a hall containing a group of peds, a section of the Asylum she hadn't yet been able to exert some measure of control. She didn't have full control of this ability of hers, this wicked charm that made the men around her hand over whatever she wanted. For years she had been practicing, using it to order around servants with a glance, cause them to quit or commit suicide. With a look alone it could be strong, but with words it was so much more powerful. The first time she had ever spoken, her mother had killed herself an hour later. Still, it could be erratic, and didn't always work how she wanted it to.
Today was an example. She strolled the hall, peaking in rooms where the perverts looked at her eagerly in their locked bedrooms. A cackle of childish laughter caused her ears to perk up, surprised that there was another child in a place like this. Instead of being eager, as most children would be, her violet eyes narrowed warily. Another child meant competition for attention, and she did not tolerate any competition. What she found as she continued her walk was a little boy with odd eyes and a mischievous expression.
She looked around to first make sure that no one was around before opening her mouth, filling her words with as much power she could muster. "Tell me your name," she said, her voice commanding though it seemed to have no effect on the laughing little boy. Instead of following her order he ran off still cackling madly, and she dashed off after him. Oh hell no, there was no way a little boy with stupid eyes was going to get away from her without having to pay.
The little odd-eyed boy was fast, but Antoinette kept pace with him until a door suddenly opened and she rammed smack-dab into a brick of wood. She came to a few seconds later, looking around for the little boy but he was gone. Instead a man with a hungry expression stood over her, and she scurried from under his grasp as fast as she could but it wasn't enough. He grabbed hold of her arm, squeezing it tightly and tried dragging her to his room. So this was it. She was going to get taken over by some nasty pervert. Eww. There was no way in hell she was going to let this happen without a fight.
As soon as he turned to look at her, she caught his eyes and turned on every ounce of wicked charm as she possibly could. This was a fight of wills, and she was going to win. The two of them stayed locked, one mind fighting against another for control, but this was a losing battle. The longer she held on the more drained she became, and she knew she would soon pass out. Never before now had someone put up such a fight. The world dimmed and all she could see were those eyes. Those eyes were all that mattered.
Slowly, slowly things came back into focus and she could see the thrall seize him as she fought for control. Minutes later, but what felt like much longer, she could feel him slip and that was when things turned in her direction. His eyes glazed over, and his grip on her arm loosened, eventually falling away altogether. She had won. Locking eyes with this crazed man she put the full force of her will into this command. "Don't eat. Don't sleep. Don't take your medicine. Be in pain, suffer horribly. This I do command of you." With an arrogant flip of her hair, she stalked off, ready to take on the child with the cackling laughter. He wouldn't get away from her for a second time.
((The power described is either called Wicked Charm, or Charmspeaking. This is only an example of the power, she wouldn't be as powerful as shown in the prompt, as that'd be too close to her being able to control everyone. Instead she'd have medium control over it, and she wouldn't be able to bend most people and patients))
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Posted: Tue May 10, 2011 5:28 pm
somasushi USED THE MASTERBALL POKEBALL!
Pokemon: poochyena
Name: Damian Kang
Background: Damian was abandoned at birth, given into a small orphanage in the city. He never fit in with the other kids, and they would always tease him and start fights with the poor kid. The orphanage was no more welcoming than the children, seeing as it was on the brink of bankruptcy. The caretaker there was a woman who could care less for the welfare of the children, and told the kids that if they wanted to survive, they would have to do it together. Damian on the other hand, had to survive alone. No one ever showed him kindness, and it made his heart turn cold. But, if he learned one thing from that damned place, it was how to fend for yourself. The constant beatings taught him that brains over bronze always wins. Quick relfexes could get you a chance to dodge. Using the opponent's power against them. As soon as Damian saw the chance, he ran away from the orphanage. He started to wander the vast city, going wherever he pleased. No matter how much people stared at him, no matter how many dirty looks he received from passerbys, Damian always kept a straight face, and was apathetic to everyone. Never did he feel wronged in the orphanage, and it wasn't going to change in the city. He would steal without evil nor benign thoughts; his only thought was to survive another day. On one occasion, Damian had stolen from a man who just happened to be a cop that was off-duty that day, and even though he was eventaully arrested, it wasn't an easy feat. Damian was faster than any crook that the police had ever chased, and they needed all their men and cars to catch the agile teen. When he was taken into custody, they had found out that he had been stealing for a long time now, and was sentenced to 5 years in jail. But, Damian hated the confinement, and started going mad by the first week. He would attack the other inmates and howl during the night. The police deemed him as crazy and mentally unstable, and sent him to the Asylum.
Prompt: Prompt 2: Fresh Air
Entry:Damian was laying down restlessly in his room, tossing and turning on the ground as he tried to sleep. He gave up after a few hours, and jumped to his feet. In a second, he was out of his room, exploring his new territory. He couldn't tell if it was day or night, since there were no windows. He had only been admitted to the Asylum for a day, but already he felt the urge to wander and see where he would be staying for who knows how long. His steps were careful, so that he would not alert any unfriendly patients. His ears were upright, sometimes flickering to the sounds of muffled screaming coming from some of the rooms, but his bright yellow eyes were always looking straight ahead. The hallways were completely black, but Damian's keen sight could see in the dark quite easily.
Damian continued to walk until he smelled an unfamiliar scent. Was it another patient? But he thought otherwise. The patients here for the most part did not wash daily, maybe even weekly. But this smell, it tickled his nose and he was drawn to it. If Damian had to describe the scent in one word, it would have to be... freedom. At first, he was cautiously make his way to his destination, but as the scent became stronger, Damian started to run, until he opened the doors to the courtyard.
It took Damian a moment to realize he was outside, and that it was night. Never did he see green in his life. The city was mostly concrete and a whole lot of gray. The sky was filled with luminous stars and a full moon, something that was always blocked by the smog back at home. It amazed him how something as simple as grass could look so... peaceful. His tail relaxed and Damian's lips curled up, almost into a smile. When was the last time he smiled? Ignoring the answer to his own thoughts, Damian continued to gaze at the sky, laying down on the grass with his hands behind his head.
That is, until his ears perked up again, to the sound of footsteps. He jumped up immediately, and started to pinpoint where exactly the sound was coming from. The footsteps seemed to be coming from the hallway where he walked through to get into the courtyard, and he remained frozen until the sound faded into silence. Damian did not want to risk getting into a fight, or worse, be caught by a doctor that could potentially experiment on him. He slipped into the shadows of the building, and silently opened the doors back into his imprsionment. Damian promised himself that he would go back there once in a while, to keep himself sane in this crazy house.
Edit: Fixed up a few things and added to the prompt
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Posted: Wed May 11, 2011 1:10 pm
VETHRFOLNIR USED THE MASTERBALL POKEBALL!
Pokemon: Skitty
Name: Delysia
Background: There once was a lonely woman who desperately wanted a child. She lived in a mansion surrounded by opulence and wealth, and while counting her gold one day, she decided she had more than enough money to adopt a child of her own. But she remembered her younger brother, such a frail, dear little thing, always toddling after her on unsteady legs; she remembered how he died at the tender age of twelve. No, not again... She thought. She could not bear to risk losing another child so soon.
The woman resolved to find a child she was certain she would not live to lose. A girl, she hoped. She had always wanted a daughter. As she crossed the streets of the bleak, desolate town beyond her white mansion, she heard gossip about disappearing children, government experiments... and whispers from the black market about their availability. It was this last strain of murmurs that brought her to a dark alley, imploring a man wreathed in shadows to sell her a daughter; he replied in a voice like a breeze, "The scientists will eventually come for her."
"I don't care. As long as I can have her... if only for a little while." She said.
A hand reached out from the darkness, just as black as the shadows from which it came, spindly fingers outstretched. The woman stepped forward and dropped a satchel of gold coins into his palm. His spider-leg fingers clamped around it, withdrew into the void, and the coins clinked-clacked as he walked away.
The next morning, the woman found a child swaddled in blankets outside her doorstep. A girl, just as she had wanted, so very small and very pink, and strangely feline with her little ears and tail... She quickly scooped her up and took her inside, away from the cold grayness of the outside world. This was her daughter. She was much too beautiful to stay out there.
The woman named her Delysia. As Delysia grew, servants were hired to care for her and offer her company, yet the mansion became a fortress; the woman went to great lengths to hide both her home and her daughter, never allowing Delysia outside of the mansion's closed walls. She learned about the world through books and the stories the servants told, and though Delysia loved her mother and the life she was given, whenever she heard these stories, she was always overcome by insatiable curiosity. Could it really be as bad as her mother said? The servants never seemed to be so bitter.
After eighteen years of being spoiled sweet, Delysia realized the other world she had so longed for was truly as terrible as her mother had always warned.
She awoke one morning to an awful smell clogging her nostrils. Her eyes shot open, immediately greeted by the sight of her handmaiden on the floor, surrounded by red liquid...
(Delysia blinks away her tears. "No, no, don't think about it, don't...")
"Experiment Number 300 of the Pokemon Project. We've finally found you."
"Who are you? What have you done to Eileen... and my mother... Mother, where are you? What have you done!?"
(She wipes at her eyes. She remembers powerful hands grabbing her and dragging her out of the house, into a cold dark space... she remembers being powerless to stop them... she does not remember seeing her mother one last time.)
Prompt: Fresh Air, continued from the background above!
Entry: In her most bitter moods, Delysia thinks that she has merely been transferred from one cage to another. She immediately realizes it's terrible to think so-- she would much rather be home again, even if every door and window was tightly locked. After all, she finally realizes why her mother felt she had to isolate her; it was the only way she knew how to protect her.
"Mother..."
Another wave of emotion swells through Delysia's chest, so strong that she chokes. She gasps, takes a deep breath, and tries to push the feeling away. She won't cry again. She's already cried enough these past few days. And as dreadful as this place is, she's been lucky; the doctors have yet to do anything to actually harm her, and she's barely caused a stir amongst the other patients. For now, as drained as she is, she would rather keep it that way.
This time, she chooses to isolate herself as she drifts through the quietest areas in the Asylum. It's as large as her home, but it's so dreadfully quiet. Mother would always have music playing. She chokes again, and quickly reminds herself that she would rather the patients remained asleep before she allows herself to miss it.
Her heels click against the tiles as she continues walking through the Asylum's dank hallways. The floors are dirty, clearly in need of scrubbing, and she's trying not to think too hard on the red stains on the walls when the disgusting linoleum suddenly fades into green grass. She blinks. Before her lies an elegant garden, so green and beautiful and bright that it looks as though it was plucked out of a dream... one of her storybook dreams, where everything glowed in bold crayon colors, and she remembered everything she read as she stepped out to finally experience it. She had never seen a garden in real life before...
Slowly, reverently, she bends down in front of a patch of flowers. The servants had occasionally brought her flowers, always pink roses; these pale yellow bulbs are unfamiliar to her. They are soft to the touch, and their scent tickles her nose. She inhales deeply, trying to fill her lungs with the smell, if only she could.
She feels herself smiling. It doesn't feel quite right on her face; it hurts her cheeks. But maybe, she dares to think, maybe it won't be so bad here after all.
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Posted: Wed May 11, 2011 6:15 pm
ISHMELUV USED THE MASTERBALL POKEBALL!
NOTE!: I figure that even though Blame's post says we are working together, I should write it as well. Our entries correlate!
Pokemon: Skitty
Name: Rochelle
Background: Elle was born to a supermodel mother and a father obsessed with riches, beauty, and fame. She watched his business grow larger every year, and along with it a sort of insanity that seemed to consume both her parents. She saw the worst of the human heart; greed, hate, desperation, and above all the way people judged one another. Once, when she was young, her father told her a story about where her lycan ears and tail came from; they were unique, strange, and neither of her parents possessed such a trait. He explained the cruelty of the world and the way one had to give up everything they owned in order to make a name for themselves and pave a happy future for their family. The government had offered to keep his company from going under as long as he allowed them to test on his toddler for a few months.... It had only changed her appearance, and she seemed no worse for the wear.... Right?
As she grew up, Elle became quieter and more withdrawn, choosing instead to write down all her feelings and thoughts in a notebook. It got to the point where she would not speak unless forced, using ink as her escape, and never putting down the pages she wrote on. Desperate to understand, her father crept into her room while she was asleep and began to read what had become his daughter's only means of communication. Elle awoke and attacked him, tearing apart her favorite nightgown and nearly slashing her father to pieces; enraged by his pure disregard of her wishes. He called the asylum to take away his daughter, and they ripped from her bloody hands the notebook she had fought so hard to keep; finally resolving to give her a blank one after all the trouble they got for it...
Prompt: Fresh Air
Entry: Rochelle had been walking around for nearly half an hour before she finally found a door to the outside, throwing it open and blinking wildly as the sun's rays sunk into her eyes which had only just gotten used to the dark. Clutching her empty notebook and pen to her chest, the young girl stepped onto the dirt, looking down at her dress for a moment before shrugging as if it was useless to bother in a place like this. Sure, she knew a lot about fashion because of her mother's profession, but that didn't mean a dress meant more to her than the beauty of the outdoors.
Feeling the warmth of the sun on her skin, she raised her face towards the sky, letting the morning sunshine wake her up from the long-lasting sleep the damp rooms of this place had forced upon her. She smiled softly, knowing that nature was the only truly beautiful thing in the world, the only thing that was pure and would never betray your trust or ravage your body, but instead invigorate and please you. People in this world were either beautiful on the outside or the inside, and the latter often lost that when they realized how good the former had it. But nature was always beautiful, inside and out.
Ears twitching, Elle could sense the people around her, the way they were glaring hatefully and judging every move she made. Pulling her head back down, she gazed at them for a moment, tail drooping a little before she finally had to tear her eyes away, making sure her emotion did not have a chance to get in the way. Moving quickly, she found herself a bench and sat down, setting her notebook lovingly upon her lap and slowly stroking the cover before opening its crisp new pages. Kindness, that's what she would write about; the one thing humans needed to make themselves beautiful again. She had grown up without it, and sometimes that made her wonder whether she could ever really perform an act of kindness herself; though she often tried to be kind to others, they often ignored or refused her.
With a deep sigh she turned her eyes towards the other patients, trying to understand how they could be so cruel... It seemed impossible to live with them, speak to them, when they had you judged the moment you walked through the door. People made no sense to her, they all seemed the sa- Her eyes caught a boy in different shades of gray, his ears and tail seemingly pressed against his body in irritation. She remembered him, the boy who had tried to save her when the doctor took away her notebook... He had failed, she knew a blind attack on trained professionals would inevitably do such, but he knew kindness... And seeing him here seemed to brighten her dim world quite a bit.
Edited May 12th
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Posted: Thu May 12, 2011 11:24 pm
Erina_Nobara USED THE MASTERBALL POKEBALL!
Pokemon: poochyena
Name: Garm, after the dog that guards Hel in Norse mythology.
Background: Garm was a pokemon under the experimentation of the government. He was treated poorly and became an angry, sorrowful individual. Once he 'evolved' into a more human-looking character, he escaped his facility, leaving no traces behind him. But as his poor luck would have it, he ended up wandering into the Asylum and was captured again, becoming a patient.
Prompt: 2
Entry: It was nightfall. The moon hung low in the sky, as if being held up by tiny silver threads. Moonbeams danced through the clouds lighting up the courtyard where fireflies danced near the shrubs and central fountain. Stars twinkled in the sky, also giving some illumination to the gardens below. Dead trees and shriveled flowers, it wasn't much to look at, but Garm didn't care. He was glad to be outdoors again. It was like a little taste of freedom in his world of confinement.
He walked along, kicking up the dirt and uneven yellow-green grass that covered the place. Leaves crunched beneath his feet as he made his way to the fountain. How he longed for a drink to parch his thirst. But when he got there, it was empty. No water. Dark, covered in moss, and cold to the touch, he ran his fingers over the concrete, tracing the cracks. Suddenly, in a burst of inexplicable anger, he punched downward on the fountain edge, over and over again until his knuckles bled. "Curse my very existence. How can I be stuck in yet another hell hole?" he cried angrily. "I can't even get a simple drink of water around here!"
He flopped down onto the ground, kicking back, leaning against the un-polished stone, and gazed around at the ivy-covered, and possibly blood-stained walls. "Who ever made such a nasty place?" he muttered, licking his wounds. But he had to admit, it was better than the government experimentation facility he had been locked in before. There was no supervision here....or at least.....he thought there wasn't? Since his initial arrival, he hasn't seen anyone else aside from.....those doctors. He did a double-take of the yard. He didn't SEE any security cameras, but that didn't mean they weren't there.
In a brief moment he had gone from paranoid to relaxed, or at least, as relaxed as was possible under the circumstances. Sighing, he tried to loosen up. A gentle breeze swept past and ruffled his short raven hair, and he lay back, staring up at the sky. More clouds were rolling in, rain clouds he noticed. It wouldn't be long before-
Before he could give it another thought, water was pouring from the sky in buckets. Wet, and peeved that he would now have to return inside, Garm gave in and stared longingly out at the courtyard, one last look before slamming the door behind him.
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Posted: Sat May 14, 2011 12:07 pm
Lanalba H Cirisse USED THE MASTERBALL POKEBALL!
Pokemon: Skitty
Name: Abigael
Background: Abi never knew her parents; she lived with her grandmother, her legal guardian. Her grandmother was wealthy beyond means, since her grandfather owned a brewery in northern Tennessee of a very popular alcholic beverage. It was with this wealth that Abigael was able to have the life she did. She was the only granddaughter that her grandmother had had, since her mother was an only child. Abi's parents had been killed in a car accident when Abi was a child; in fact, Abi was in the car herself, but the head on collision hadn't killed her. Almost, but by some miracle she survived. Her grandmother always told her that it was because she was special. See, Abi has this .. tail, and these ears. Not like other kids. It was also because she was special, that her grandmother had hired her a tutor, and Abi was home schooled.
Upon entering her teenage years, Abi began to wonder why she was different. She had seen others before; the servants all looked like grandmother did. None of them had a tail, or ears like Abi did. She never saw pictures of her parents, but her grandmother had said that her special gift was from her father. Abi started to question her so-called gift. She had researched what it could be, but the only thing she found was that she was considered a freak. A freak, eh? Oh, she'd show them.
She's in the Asylum, because her grandmother found her trying to cut her tail off. When she tried to stop Abi, the knife ended up elsewhere. The police brought her here. It's cold, gross, dirty. There are others like her here, but that's not the point. She wanted to go home. She wanted to be with her grandmother. Heck, she didn't even know if she even had a grandmother anymore.
Prompt: Prompt 3: Hunger
Entry:
"Really?"
"Really. NEXT!"
"You have got to be kidding me!"
Abigael turned with tray in hand and stormed off.
---
It hurt, so much. Abi's stomach growled angrily from underneath her pink dress, and she whined, "I know, I know." But she didn't know. Abi hadn't left her room since they brought her to this dump. She waited, figuring they'd bring her her food like they did back home. She wanted her maid. Why couldn't she had a maid?! She had enough money to pay them for one .. well, at least Gram did. Playing with the neckline of her shawl, she huffed. It was all Gram's fault she was in here! If she wouldn't have ran at her in a panic, she never would have gotten -- GRRR. "ALRIGHT ALREADY!"
Swinging her legs off the side of her bed, she pushed herself up angrily and opened the door. Ew. This place smelt terrible, but she was hungry. Abi wasn't too sure where she had to go to get food. She assumed there was a cafeteria around here somewhere. Perking her ears up slightly, she heard the low mumbling of a crowd. Might as well follow that, she thought. Walking towards the noise, this rank smell backhanded her nostrils, "EW!" And it was coming from the door to the left of her. Groaning, she opened it a crack and peaked in. The cafeteria.
It was disgusting. It was dark, it was crowded, it smelt terrible! Why did she have to come here? Why couldn't that have at least sent her somewhere where the rich, insane people go. There has to be somewhere for them to go and not mingle with this rift-raft. But she was unfortunately here to stay. Looking around, she noticed a line-up along a bar-like kitchen. Hesitantly, she walked up to the line.
"BACK OF THE LINE!"
Abi jumped and hurried to the other side of the line, not even bothering to look up and see who had just yelled at her. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she fought them back as she thought about how much she wanted to go home. Grabbing a tray, she held it out to the first woman behind the glass wall. The woman took her scoop and plopped its contents out onto a plate and placed it on Abi's tray. It was rank. It was a green-ish brown colour, and it's texture was undescribable.
"Really?" Abi questioned.
"Really," the cafeteria lady huffed, "NEXT!"
Made a quick edit on May 15th at 1:03 pm EST. Just noticed an extra line that I missed taking out in the original pre-posting edit. =3
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Posted: Sat May 14, 2011 5:32 pm
VBALLLVR5 USED THE MASTERBALL POKEBALL!
Pokemon: Poochyena
Name: Johnny
Background: Johnny is the unlikely result of a prostitute mother and one of her "customers." Surprisingly enough he wasn't "taken care of" and was born a healthy young boy. His mother planned to keep him take care of him the best she could but when he was only three she was shot in an alley walking back to her son. Johnny had been hidden from view in a corner and so the murderer hadn't seen him, but Johnny had seen it all. The little boy was found the next day and put into foster care. No one wanted this child that was a result of two unmarried people especially if the mother was a prostitute. That's what Johnny thought at least, but it was really because Johnny was believed to have a form of schizophrenia. He soon grew out of prime adoption age and stayed at the foster care until he was ten which was when he was diagnosed, he ran away the day before he was supposed to be sent to a hospital for care. He ended up back on the streets and was found by a man in his early to mid-twenties usually referred to as the thief. "The Thief" resented this name and told little Johnny that his real name was Julian. Julian acted as (then called Little Johnny)Johnny's mentor. The young boy became an expert on pick pocketing and adult sympathy. Johnny too resented the name he was given and started calling himself "True Night" it didn't catch on very well but Julian stuck up for the kid when others tried to mess with him. When Johnny was 16 Julian mysteriously went missing, Johnny assumed that it had been a rival gang (Johnny quickly found out that Julian was in one -- one of the leaders actually) and tried to find out. One day a fellow gang member cornerd him and Johnny assumed that he would be jumped as he was likely to become one of the ring leaders of Julian wasn't found. It didn't seem anything of the sort, the other guy actually seemed to try and help, but he wasn't. He lured Johnny into the vicinity of the Asylum where he became trapped and thusly became part of a new experiment. It is unknown if the other gang member was trapped as well.
Prompt: Prompt 2 Fresh Air
Entry: Johnny was aimlessly roaming the unfamiliar territory that is the Asylum. The hallways dim lighting and gray walls reminded him of the alleyways he once called home and was surprisingly comforted. He turned a corner and saw a sliver of bright white light that was incapable of coming from the Asylum's flickering lights. Johnny approached the streak of light, it was coming from a door that was slightly ajar. He pushed open one of the two heavy doors leading outside. He had found his way to the courtyard, the nicest part of the Asylum most would say. He walked outside and the sun blinded him with light. He closed his eyes and covered them with his hands. The light was painful and so when he reopened his eyes he did so slowly and kept them at a squint. It would take awhile to adjust to the brightness. The fresh air and light were overwhelming, too bright, too clean. He stumbled over to a tree and held onto it with all his strength, the other clutching his stomach. He felt sick. Too much change too fast. He heard screaming and whipped around but he was alone. He preferred the dark dank walls that had surrounded him inside, they had actually made him feel closer to home. A gunshot sounded. Johnny tensed but still the courtyard was empty and no gunner in sight. Back against the tree now he sat down and held his head. More screaming, but he didn't look this time he saw with his eyes closed. Blood, lots of blood. He felt dizzy and was seeing blackspots, and this time it wasn't from the blinding light. He felt a liquid on his hand but when he glance down nothing was there. He squeezed his eyes shut. What was happening to him?
may 14 2 minutes after original post time xD
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Posted: Sun May 15, 2011 1:21 am
USED THE MASTERBALL POKEBALL!
Pokemon: poochyena
Name: Roekan Soar
Background: He certainly had a rough life. His birth wasn't even wanted nor meant to be. Mother, a quaint, and normal housewife type who bore internal demons met with his mysterious, unknown father on a drunken night at a bar. It was a passionate escapade that ended in regret and ruin. The father never showed again, and the mother began to plummet into a life of insanity and destruction. Her once perfect cookie cutter life was turned upside down once Roe was born, the child a monstrosity, and the mirror image of the now blur that was his father. With the instability of his mother, she turned to the harmful things in life to escape from the nightmare that was her own child, the taunting and mocking reminder of her greatest mistake in life. The woman became violent, and abusive in more ways than one. Roe ran away countless times, to escape her and the terrible boyfriends that added onto the madness. He'd never gone to school nor had a friend. It drove him to become skeptical, and withdrawn to the world and others on it. Getting caught into scraps, and fights, it drew out the hidden beast within him. A wolf that was slumbering, awakening when the boy's body was under great distress. Of course, tapping into such a state of mind had it's fall backs. Roe couldn't tell enemy from foe most of the time, as he had no control over himself once in such a trance, and high strung level. He was feral then. It lead to many deaths, and marred bodies. Eventually, the boy was caught, and sentenced... truly making him feel like a caged dog in the wrong world.
Prompt: 1
Entry:
Just look a this place... it was no different from the hell hole he'd been born into...
Another cage to be confined in... another life to feel isolated and rejected in.
S---...
Golden eyes scanned along the unwelcoming entrance, following to the gloomy features that complimented on either side of the large territory. Was this hell? It sure looked like it... At least from the romanticized illustrations he'd seen. He was ushered into the cold rusted gates, tail giving a sharp flick this way and that, pointed ears swiveling side to side warily. The gold coins that adorned his eyes didn't blink often, his face retaining an apathetic, to emotionless expression. But that undying, brewing fierceness could be seen in those duel Sun's. His footsteps reverberated, softly repeating down the first hallway to his new 'home.' There was a boy clad in yellow standing there... seemingly waiting for me. Staring blankly at the other boy, his body naturally tensed slightly, ready for an attack, tail stiffening behind him as well. But when the Pichu simply casually turned without a word, Roe gave a slow blink, studying him... waiting, and watching until it seemed that there would be peace between them.... for now at least.
As they perused the halls, his eyes snapped his way and that memorizing each passing detail for future necessity and reference. There were almost silent whispers that exchanged, shufflings that couldn't be seen... just an eerie and unsettling grip to the cold tunnels. It made his gut turn and hold firmly, his hands holding balled fists at either side of him. The place got worse as it progressed... An attack could come from any angle here. But as he was walking, eyes off some where not paying too much attention to his front, he could feel a brushing roughly smooth against his arm, making gray ears p***k to an alert position. Darting his eyes across to spy the culprit, who was wearing a rather sinister toothy grin, Roe narrowed his gaze inquisitively. But the other boy knew what he was doing... two of his buddies appearing from the shadows,
'Hey... new kid. I don't think you payed your entrance fee, yet.' the obvious leader of the small pack started, moving close to crowed Roekan's space.
But the pooch didn't falter, nor shake at the advance, standing his ground firmly without a bat of an eye lash. Of course, the other two took to either side of him, appearing as intimidating as possible. One even pressed something firm to his kidney area... a knife of sorts, that must have been stolen from the cafeteria; or maybe it was even a tool of the boys own. Either way, it pressed threateningly against his covered skin, making his tail stiffen in a rigid manner... that internal beast slowly starting to awaken from its dormant state. But he said nothing on the matter still, even as they gave him a rough shove.
That Pichu boy was long gone by now... but no matter. He'd probably just get in the way. As he was gripped by the throat, a low guttural growl rose from Roe, rumbling in his chest. It effected his entire being, spreading down his chest, arms, to his toes. Hands splaying out, fingers as well, he snapped at the face before him, just barely missing the punk's nose. All he got out of it was a laugh from the trio, and a firmer squeeze to his neck. Pupils shrinking down, baring canines that were sharp and poised, Roe jerked his head towards the captor's arm, biting right into his wrist with all his might. The skin tore, and blood took its freedom to run down the arm. With a sharp cursing from the instigator, Roe was dropped again, but met with a punch to his side. It sent him into the boy on his other side, the knife prepped, and another set of fists shooting straight at him. But his instincts kicked in, and he dodged each one swiftly, returning to give a thrusting punch of his own to the leaders gut, ducking down to roll out from the triangular prism they'd encased him in. He spun around to lunge at the slow to react thug number two, sinking his teeth into the nape of his neck with a screech resulting from his opponent. It felt good... fighting like this... the surge of adrenaline that naturally kicked in and clouded his semi-sane mind. All that mattered now was survival. As the knife wielding kid made his move, it tore at Roe's jacket, making him snarl and de-latch to follow its owner. But he wasn't quick enough as the knife slashed along his stomach, tearing his shirt, and grazing the tender skin below to leave a line of red. It wasn't deep enough to be severe, but it was irritating enough to rev up the already elated Roekan. Growling savagely, he leaped at other, pinning either arm down... and felt the leader 'tsk' behind him, before giving a kick to Roe's back, making the air escape all at once. Falling onto his side, receiving more kicks while he was down, that silver knife was ready to strike again when a bark sounded that came from a passing by student,
'Don't do that here! if he bleeds all over the place, someone'll slip and get all dirty!' Hey.. it wasn't the best way of being saved, but it gave only a few more kicks to the fallen Poocheyena's side, a spit or two, before he was left alone.
'Watch yourself, kid.' the two bullies threatened, dragging their fallen comrade back to their turf. They'd be sure to tear that little snot a new one next time.
He really couldn't decide which was worse... this place, or outside... both were cages in which he couldn't escape no matter where he ran. Both showed no signs of hope, nor acceptance... both were worlds he could not find sanctuary in...
{finished this f at 3:34...}
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