Welcome to Gaia! ::

Damn it, why is he so pretty?!

It had been a week since Shinju had caught Deneb Kaitos and surprisingly, she had no problems training the large water serpent. It was obedient with every action, precise to every commanded attack, and so damn gorgeous it drew attention from all angles of the contest hall. Hell, he was the very definition of a Mary Sue! Cetus, err, Shinju as she going by at the contest hall, had fawned over her Milotic enough times the feeling had transmuted from admiration to downright envy. The other coordinators weren't looking at her beauty, they were head-over-heels for Deneb Kaitos!

After a perfectly executed Water Pulse-Aqua Ring combo, Shinju sliced her hand through the air. "Alright, that's enough, Deneb Kaitos, take a break," she said, than huffed as the Milotic tilted his head and figured his jaw against her cheek.

She chuckled than. For such a good-looking Pokemon of off-colored origins, he never seemed to dwell on narcissism. Deneb Kaitos was quite affectionate for a Milotic, most likely living up to his species of being kindhearted and loving. It was certainly hard to imagine why he was such a sweetheart, but it calmed Shinju's jittery affair of jealousy for that one moment. A pale hand touched upon the Milotic's jaw and her smile grew as warm as the pale sunset in his pleading, worried eyes.

"No, no, I'm alright," she said, brushing her hand against the Water-types jaw. "Just, a bit, I dunno . . . frizzled. You don't need to worry, everything's a-okay with me." At least she was a better liar than he was.

Deneb Kaitos reeled suddenly under several intense stabs of pain under his jaw. Despite her completely relaxed semblance, Cetus was utterly stricken with the gall of the woman. To suddenly step upon her stage and preach commands like a pompous priest bubbled her ocean's geyser. However, she had a lovely image to upkeep, and chose to dig her fingernails into her Milotic's soft skin, leaving small half moons against the ivory-beige of the serpent's skin as she removed her hands and folded them quaintly under her bosom.

Cetus had prepared a backlash of cruel and demeaning curses in the milling of ocean of her thoughts, but felt the tide swell come two wholly true aspects: she had promised a certain police officer she wouldn't be a baddie anymore -- under certain conditions -- and the woman's attitude left her hopelessly charmed. To have the balls to approach another so openly certainly impressed her. However, her restraints were the cause of Osmond. Considering she promised him she wouldn't explode people or beat up innocents anymore, he wouldn't take his duty more seriously and arrest her. Thankfully, he left theft out of that awkward algorithm.

"Hmm." she mused, eyes traveling over the taller woman's form searching for any outer extremities that might displease her. Nothing seemed out of place; all fingers, two feet, and cynical grin were completely in order. She could freely communicate with this one, despite her earlier attitude. When her eyes caught the glint of a neatly placed badge, than, only than, did Cetus lower her self-confident shell. This gal was a judge? Huh. Well, she wasn't one to deny gaining an upper hand. One hand curled a loose sea green lock behind her ear and she smiled, kindly, to the other.

"I'll consider it, miss." she replied as if she had a rock stuck in her throat. "If I can know your name first . . . ?" If this chick was going to be a judge later for the upcoming contest, it'd be best to get formalities out of the way. That way, Cetus'll know who to thank later on for her second ribbon.

"I'll settle for Veronica," Cetus replied, almost sternly, as her slim fingers petted the underside of her left elbow.

There was no way in hell she was settling for a just, respectable formality for her. This woman was truly annoying, to the point the Galactic grunt considered rolling her hand's members together and cuffing the taller woman somewhere unpleasant. Her intentions grew borderline when Val had the audacity to grab her own hand forcefully and peck a little kiss on her birdie. Cetus mouth twisted up with disgust and gently, she moved her hand away and settled it to her side like a dangling, dead snake. The only person, err, man to even consider such a romantic gesture was Osmond. When he did it, just that one time, Cetus practically swooned. Having a woman do it. Well. Let's just say it pissed Cetus off more than usual. The older woman's face brightened with an elegant rage, hands suddenly balled.

"I'm Julie," she lied, crushing the anger for a slim withdrawal of ladylike respect. "And, I'll treat you to one shot -- no more, no less." She was exactly a charity.

Deneb Kaitos, catching a terrible vibe from the woman, nudged his owner's shoulder in fair warning. His insistent actions upped a bit when Cetus agreed to go with her. Was she insane?! The Milotic pulled at her blouse with his jaw, even trying to draw her attention away with consistent nuzzles on her cheek. The grunt only ignored him. His actions came to no avail and when Cetus agreed to serve the lass one drink, she swiftly brought up her show Pokemon's ball and withdrew him. His struggles did not come in vain, but his warning was not heeded as he was sucked in. Please let her be alright!

Shinju nearly answered her presence alone was enough to scowl about, but she held her tongue and instead shrugged off her before expression with a fake-friendly smile. No, no, had to play kind today. This woman was an eventual judge. One teeter to the wrong side and she could be losing a valuable asset in the next Pokemon contest. Okay, okay . . . just play along.

Her heels echoed come each stride, perfect and poise in the strength of her well defined spine, until the sheer doors of the performance hall were tugged and held open to allow the faux judge passage. Her mind danced on other matters -- specially how to impress this judge -- without shelling out more than the twenty in her pocket. Shinju only knew of one place to be: her local bar just a few steps away. Her concentration remained steadfast on their location. Conversation was the last on her mind as she believed they'd get that factor out of the way when they reached the bar. Never did she find herself in the situation for talk during their walk, until Veronica talked. Oh dear.

"I've my reasons, Veronica." Cetus replied, constructing her tilted brick wall. "Training is my outlet. When I need to unwind, I train and . . . I don't have any desire to hit you. Drop the matter, please."

Her visits to bar, err, this bar was constant after her training sessions. Before she knew it, after a few months of frequenting the dingy, brick-built building, she was considered a regular. A low silence swelled in the small watering hole and Chuck, the owner of the joint, perked up at the little tingle-tingle of the bell above being knocked by the door edge. The familiar seaweed colored hair made him smile.

"Shinju!" he cheered, setting the beer mug he was scrubbing down onto the counter. Than the second shade of short locks followed by malicious expression caused him to quirked a quizzical brow. " . . . and friend?"

Cetus stiffened. That's right, she told the old brick her real name. She couldn't remember how, but likely during one of her more . . . tipsy moments when Thanih had to drag her home.

"Hey Chuck," she answered, trying to divert the discussion from her blatant lie and onto the real meat and butter of the night: drinking. "Drinking with company tonight."

"That's a surprise, lass." Chuck said. "The last company ya'll had in here was that ol' green bonehead a yours. Gave me a bonk on tha head last time, eh? Quite strong for a senior Poke, huh? Oh, and what'll it be? Same old, same old?"

Cetus chuckled. "I'm still sorry about that Chuck." she replied, taking the initiative and pulling up a seat. "Thanih's banned from the bar. He won't be coming back anytime soon. Oh, and yes, um, my typical. And a shot of brandy to the side."

"Formalities?" he asked, tilting his head towards Veronica.

"Formalities." she answered, than patiently waited for her order as Chuck took Val's.

Chuck cast her an almost questionable gaze. "Huh. Been a while since I young'un ordered food." the man said, combing a hand through his neatly trimmed, light slate locks. "Most kids like ta just drink. Hell, been a while since I touched that ole stove there. But uh, I'll git ya a menu, I guess."

"Oh, but Chuck-"

"Don' worry, love, I didn't forget." Chuck procured her usual demitasse, poured a pot of simmering water into it, and plopped her shot into the water. It swirled into the heated bath, darkening her serving like disgusting murk, before Chuck broke the elegant dance of solution to solution with a teabag. Cetus granted the older man an unwonted smile. Bellied beneath it wasn't the hint of an act. It was earnest and true. For some reason, the bartender awoke a sense of warmth within her.

Eventually, Chuck maneuvered away to the back of the bar, sliding his jolly belly through a thin opening situated into the counter and walking off into off-limits limits. Cetus shifted, sipped her tea, than fitted her lithe fingers together as a standing steeple. She studied Veronica, searching for any sign of weakness, but only saw a grin. That grin. Oh how Cetus had grow accustomed but sickened by that grin. "So," she began, making an attempt at small talk. Cetus's voice was sticky with feigned indifference. She was still choked up about her real identity. "You're a judge. How exactly . . . did you get that position?"

Dark teal eyes focused on the badge pinned to her collar, unwavering even for the clatters of glass and scrapped paper coming from Chuck's inner sanctum. Only two ideas came to Cetus's mind on how an individual earned the prized status of judge: a.) they were an impressive, retired coordinator or b.) they held a prestigious or admired position, such as Mr. Sukizo or Nurse Joy. This woman -- Veronica -- seemed neither prized nor polished enough to have gotten the role the conventional way. Her suspicions slowly bubbled.