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 Posted: Thu Mar 08, 2012 2:35 pm
This is a solo RP involving: Malo and his caretaker, Preston.
Where: In the gardens of the Red Queen's castle.
What's happening: The story of how Malo finds his place at home in the red queen's castle.
A small chorus of applause rang over the low hedges and gorgeous flowerbeds of the queen's royal garden. The great lawn was being occupied by a simple croquet match, no more than seven people in attendance. Some old fuddy-duddies of the castle had arranged the match so they could wait for death with a smile. Jake, a young meowth caddy, prepared the hoops for the game, forcing his goofy smile as an elderly man snorted at him to clear off. The man dropped his ball to the ground and swung the mallet blindly, knocking it off into the shrubbery. The feline sighed as the man, a grizzled old Rhydon, pointed for him to go get it, muttering that the turf was fixed. Jake hurried over and ducked down, pawing under the bushes. Nettles, thorns, a few loose stones... His hand brushed something smooth and round and he prized it in his hand. The ball! As he yanked it triumphantly into the pale light, he saw it wasn't the ball, but the tip of a most unusual egg. It was smooth and pale purple in color with a series of bumps on top that had the appearance of melted wax. A little flame burned on its top. He had never seen anything so wonderful. "What's taking you, boy!?" "Uh..." he paused, looking at the egg and back to the old grump. He was wondering if he should pass it off to the elder. But the man wouldn't be a good caretaker. He was always so grumpy and bitter and the child would be just as angry if it had to put up with him. Jake found himself casually pushing it back under the bush and to the other side, leaving it to rest in the garden. He'd get it later, he promised himself. He felt around, grabbing the ball and hurrying back to the game. "Sorry. It was in the thicket of it." He put the ball back on the terrain and continued to watch the game, clouds gathering in the sky above.
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Posted: Thu Mar 08, 2012 3:24 pm
The rain had chased everyone from the terrace inside. In the rush of the wet, cold water, Jake's feline nature had made him forget all about the egg.
But the litwick egg burned on through the day, drenched and cold, only sheltered by a few tall growing flowers. The flame never went out, but it did seem much less eager to glow as the chilled rains frosted it all night.
The next morning, a gardener went out to see what the damage was to the queen's plants. He was an ivysaur, muttering as he carefully repotted some buds and used splints to make the rosebed stand tall again.
He paused, looking over as something caught his eye. Fire?! A stone on fire?!
He hurried over, blinking owlishly at it and smiled. "Aww, poor little thing. Must have been out here all night." He held it to his chest, giving it a few gentle rubs. The flame seemed to glow brighter and the surface warmed.
"Alright, little guy. You can stay with me, but I have to get back to work now, okay?" He loaded the unborn into his wagon and gave it a fond pat, getting back to putting dirt on the posies. He spent the afternoon moving up and down the small rises of the garden until he finally finished. He headed up the hill to the shed, exhausted.
He stopped the wagon and went inside to make room for the supplies and find a carrying satchel for the egg. As he worked on, the egg twitched and shifted, rolling to the heavier end of the little carriage. It was enough to send it down the hill.
The litwitck rolled to the back as the wagon accelerated, tumbling and bumping jovially down the hill. The wooden contraption finally crashed into a large bush, its contents flipping out. The egg was sent flying.
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Posted: Thu Mar 08, 2012 3:34 pm
The unborn was free as a bird, soaring through the sky with the velocity of a baseball. Had it landed, it would have been smashed to pieces. But it just so happened a great flock of swans was flying in search of a pond to settle on. An unfortunate male had the pleasure of intercepting the egg in its path, hissing and flaring his wings and neck at it as it dropped into the safe nettles of a tree.
'What a rude egg.' The swan thought to himself. 'Swan eggs would never behave like that.'
The Litwick, its fall broken by the tree, began to roll down the branches, slowly bouncing back and forth until it dropped into a pile of hay.
A stable hand, a shy ponyta, yelped as the horses bolted from their supper, startled by the dropping motion.
The stablehand was terribly confused.
"What's the matter with you?" he asked the herd. He picked up the pitchfork and aimed it at the haystack. A snake, maybe?
Digging through it a bit, he found the sorry looking egg, covered in mud and feathers and nettles and now hay. He held it at eye level as he walked.
"Where did you come from?" he asked it. "Such a joy to have you in my field but you look like you've been through a lot. HEY! HAS ANYONE LOST AN EGG?" It was worth a try.
"Well, don't you fret now little one. I know all about caring for babies....horses, but babies none-the-less." He brought the egg into the barn, dousing it in a water bucket before drying it off with a wash rag.
The night had come and the ponyta was very tired from the day of work. He brought the horses in for the night and moved into the tack room with the egg, clambering onto his cot.
"There. Safe and sound now. I don't know where you came from but I'll take care of you."
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Posted: Thu Mar 08, 2012 4:03 pm
The next morning was a bustling one. There was often sale or trade for the queen's goods and the shipment of her minted money to other factions. Only the best horses were used for these shipments, being strong and fleet footed.
The stablehand slept on as other workers showed up, collecting tack for the horses. Disturbed, the ponyta rolled over, nudging the egg off his cot. It was sent rolling, bouncing off the door and out into the barn.
There was a horse being tacked up on a pair of cross-ties. It startled as the egg brushed up against its leg and did a slight rear of fright. Its front hoof nudged the shell and sent the litwick rolling again.
"What's gotten into you, thunder?" A man asked as he worked a bridle onto the stallion's head.
The purple oval shimmied out the door of the barn unseen and came to rest against a crate of goods ready for shipping and trade. A large primeape muttered under his breath as hauled the wares into the back of the cart. He didn't think twice as he unceremoniously bundled chickens, the crate with fine cloth, some coin, Malo's egg and a sack of vegetables onto the growing pile. The horse was hitched and with a loud "Hya", they pulled out of the castle grounds and set out on the path to their Fence.
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Posted: Thu Mar 08, 2012 4:21 pm
Malo was bumped along as the horse trotted calmly on a road of dirt and packed stones. The wheels creaked as they passed over dry and rough patches. The horse hooves giggled as they splashed through pooled rains. The Fence, another caravan, was the goal, but the cart never made it.
Some members of spades had come for an easy highway robbery. There had been little resistance and the primeape was killed on the side of the road by the older gang members and a stab wound. The horse was one of their prizes and they helped themselves to any goods in the back.
A young houndour scrounged, passing the food and hens off to the older houndooms and their horses. He examined the egg with a sniff.
"Hey, Dodger?"
"Eh?"
"Can we take this?"
The houndoom leaned in. "Ai. Should be a good worker or even a new gang member." He snorted. "Now hurry on, Oliver. We've got a long way home. It ain't safe to linger in hearts."
The group rode on with their two horses and a small pony. The cart stallion was in tow, their stolen goods packed up on his back. Save for the egg, which was held in one arm of the houndour, Oliver.
They came to the edge of hearts for the evening, their horse's exhausted and their bellies yawning for food.
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Posted: Mon Mar 12, 2012 6:36 pm
The beheaded chickens were delicious to their ravenous mouths. Plucked and stabbed on an iron spit, they were roasted generously on the fire.
"What do you think it'll hatch into?" The raggedy houndour asked, itching his gangly hair. Flecks of dirt leaped out of it like fleas.
After a gushing bite, chew and swallow, Dodger mumbled, "Some sort of fire pokemon. See the wick on its top? Y'still mothering that thing?"
"Yeah. I feel a bit bad...that primeape could have been its father or something."
"Win some, lose some. Just cool it with the rubbing. We don't need that thing hatching when we're on the road."
"Ok..." Oliver stopped rubbing to eat the delicious chicken and a few roasted potatoes.
Their own fire burning brightly wasn't really subtle and they would pay for it, a troupe of guards hot on the trail.
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Posted: Mon Mar 12, 2012 7:54 pm
"Don't move! In the name of the Queen you are all under arrest!" The guards surrounded the camp, spears in hand. The thieves would be dead if they even tried to draw their own weapons. They were helpless as the guards worked them into iron manacles and looping rope around each neck.
The burglars were dragged onto the guard's steeds, the stolen goods and thieves horses following behind. It was a long road back, but nary a word was spoken save for "you boys are in a whole heap of trouble." and "you stop fidgeting."
The castle came into sight and the guards sanctioned off. One brought the horses to the paddock for testing. If they were any good they'd be ridden by the guards. The beasts were as wild as their masters, but the stallion was glad to be home.
The other guard went to make inventory and report what was stolen so they may get their gold back. Malo's egg was pried from Oliver's hands as the third guard dragged the thieves off to the dungeon.
The child was whimpering, ears flat to his head as they left his new little friend behind.
"Knock it off, Oliver. Be a man. Hold your head high, okay. We'll be fine." Dodger snapped.
"No talking!" The guard hissed.
He lead them down a stone spiral staircase to a damp, dripping dungeon. Rats skittered along, skeletons rotting away in their shackles. "We do hope you'll enjoy your stay at the Queen's inn. Your rooms are right this way."
He shoved the boys into three cells and locked them in with a taunting remark.
"Next time you plan to rob from us, don't leave a blood trail, tracks and smoke for us to follow, you fools."
The three were beheaded the following day.
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Posted: Mon Mar 12, 2012 8:36 pm
The day had passed and the crowds to watch the execution had long parted. Malo sat on the wooden table through the night, the only item unaccounted for.
He had been placed on a pillow and a blanket wrapped around him but no-one wanted to step forward and claim the egg as their own.
Preston, a librarian and scholar, headed down from the library. A long quellazaire was wedged in his teeth as he strode in, an heir of superiority about him. "Savage dogs. Finding such trivial joy in the death of three thieves. They deserved punishment but not death, even if they were cutthroat spades."
He seemed to be speaking to himself, sitting at the table before finally noticing the lonely egg. "What's this?" he ran a dainty, dry finger over the eggshell. "Poor thing. Have you been ignored all night?"
The egg rocked in reply to the touch. As a guard came in with the man's book delivery, Preston inquired.
"No, the little tyke was found last night. We put him there to decide what's to become of him."
"And none have stepped forward?" Preston loaded the tomes into his arms.
"No."
"I'll take him, then." Preston announced, scooping the egg and balancing it precariously on the pile and heading for the library.
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Posted: Mon Mar 12, 2012 8:46 pm
Preston brought the egg up to the place he worked and lived in: the castle library. He massaged the little egg, unbeknownst to the adventure it had already been on.
The kind noctowl put the egg in a warm blanket and gave it a gentle kiss. "Well, it shall be nice to have an assistant when you hatch." He looked out the window as the storm rolled in from the distance. Lighting a few candles, he opened one of his new books and read out loud to the egg, which he held in his lap.
By chapter four, he was growing tired.
"And Malo had never been more relaxed. He had no idea why he so feared the dragon, for she played the most wonderful music on a golden harp. Though he was caged, his soul felt so free. It would be that night he would try to win her over with his flute."
He picked the egg up and patted it. "And with that, its time for bed. Come along, now, egg." He frowned as he carried the flickering thing to his chambers and setting it on the bed as he got dressed.
"Egg is so objectifying. I think I will call you..." he smiled. "Malo. Let's go to bed, Malo."
The egg rocked in reply as the two fell into deep sleep by the light of a fire and candles, the storm rolling outside.
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