Twinkletoes ((Feather?Maybe?))

[Jachai J. Jean-Jacques III]

((I... wouldn't mind a third person joinin' in on the shenanigans. If that's possible. I think it'd be funny. xD))

The blond felt his rather small (for a young man his age, at least) hand slip over the rather fine fabric that adorned his chest, fingertips rubbing mindlessly against the ruffles of light-hued cloth. Soft, and nice. His heart was still beating quite hard in his chest, though the rather exciting albeit horrible situation had long since been over with. It was probably the lingering sense of guilt, embarrassment and that feeling one gets when their greatest secret is almost- ALMOST- revealed to someone who would probably tell it to anyone and everyone. That was why Jachai was sitting ALONE on the curb now… He’d had the radio on quietly at his house almost two hours ago, listening to some music when suddenly the lyrics and his brain became aligned and he felt something in him snap completely- I’ll live until the day I die. - and that was when he knew he had to get out of that house in the middle of nowheresville and GO. So he’d listened to that song while he was thinking about what he was going to wear out that night – Why’re you so afraid of the other side? – and suddenly, one of his mother’s old dresses that she’d tailored as a kinky good-girl-lolita-styled Halloween costume popped straight into his head. He fell in love with himself for a few seconds, despite the egotism of it, because he deserved to for that FANTASTIC IDEA. The light-colored, belted-and-ribboned boots that went along with it had -surprisingly- fit him despite the at least five inch size difference between him and his mother. He didn’t know how it worked. But damn it was fun sneaking them out of the closet, it was so damn fun to feel that thrill within, and damn it was good to know his mother would just shake her head and laugh at him if he got caught. Jachai fell in love with her too, in that moment. She was so damn awesome. He’d never sworn so much in his head before. But it was damn… damn. Damn. Fun. Yes, it was.

He didn’t know how he’d gotten out of the front door of the old, creaky house without rousing suspicion from anyone, not even Ricor; let alone have started up his beautiful chrome-and-saffron colored motorcycle. Without a single peep. Not a single light coming on in his beautiful, night-darkened home. So, Jachai sped away with a rumble and a growl on a cool metallic beast that knew well of his speed-demon tendencies, the pair riding fast and fierce along the dusty dirt roads on the high that came with Jachai’s letting go of himself and his fears. And he felt so connected to his precious ride in the time that they spent getting into Nada, he felt sad when he departed from it for the dance place that someone had mentioned to him once. He called it sweet names and caressed its voluptuous curves like a shameless boyfriend on his girl- or lad, if said lad was shaped that way- and in return he got strange looks from other passersby and party-goers; but he didn’t care because he was happy. And with a grin and that song urging him on, he went in, and he quickly found himself sweeping a few others off their feet, and none of them were enough for him, to his disappointment- and then he found someone else like him- they were so strange and crazy together, dresses and confidence and unwavering flirtatiousness- and then he found himself doing things he’d probably later blush furiously at- and it lead him in a whirlwind of insanity and masculine femininity- oh yes, that existed- to an alleyway where- where- he wouldn’t have minded so much his other clothes, but never touch the patch. The medical patch he was wearing was untouchable, he’d said, and the other just wouldn’t take no for an answer- so he’d hit him. Hard. Not a slap, but a full-on god-damn Jachai’s-no-violence-rule-defying punch. Thankfully it had gone without sparks (somehow he’d managed to work all of it out of his system in the club without anyone even noticing) but that act was still shocking, in a non-literal sense. The other boy- he didn’t even know his name!- just wanted to see what was under there- a peek- and Jachai had blindly albeit defensively hit him, staggering off afterwards in a rage-drunken- or maybe a tad alcohol drunken? he had been sipping from other people's drinks- stupor.

And now the lad was realizing he was a very, very stupid little boy. Wearing an unnecessarily provocative dress at almost midnight in the night-life area of Nada, and not knowing where the hell his bike was, or even where he himself was. He was alone, had no way of reaching anyone who could help him (his house didn’t have a phone), and it was dark and late, and he was… well, honestly, dumb. That damn song was still playing in his head, too. Though he wasn’t nearly calm enough to think clearly, Jachai rose from the curb he’d been sitting on after noticing that more than one person on the other side of the not-so-well-lit street had been staring at him. And his dress, that rode up a ton because of its kinky-lolita-ness. And he was wearing a pair of shorts under there, but they were kinda tight so… So, he huffed at himself, trying to stop from being so paranoid, and started to walk very calmly and very non-provocatively so people wouldn’t think- and yes, he knew what they were thinking because he was thinking it too- so much that he was a hooker; because he damn well looked like one. He was… kinda pretty, he guessed, and he wasn’t THAT oblivious to others. Or was he? Because that poor, easily-frightened little lad never saw the arms come around with practiced speed over his chest- and arms!- from behind to grip him like a vice, stepping them both back out of the light; the cold, hard, unforgiving business end of a Glock pressing into the middle of his back. A harsh whisper sounded in his ear; the scent of coffee strong on the obviously older and taller man’s breath.

“Move and your insides go out, twinkle-toes.”

Jachai was so scared he forgot to scream. And thank goodness he’d used the bathroom before leaving the nightclub. That would’ve been awkward.

Oooh I'll live, until the day I die...

[Dalton[ SMILE!]]

Once upon a time, in a faraway land there lived a princess.

Who was not a man in an extremely frilly dress stumbling drunkenly through the back alleys of Nada.

The princess was in a fair bit of distress [as always happens to be the case--never the pretty man, or the sexy villain waiting for a very lucky maiden to come in]. A large hideous dragon stole her from her beautiful home, and took her to his much dustier, and much less extravagant castle. You can see what exactly was distressing her--no parties, no pretty boys, nothing to do, but sit and watch the mortar crack.

The distress had nothing to do with glocks, or cocked gun--or even coffee. No , it was the simple issue of boredom. Nowhere near as stressful as what our poor Jachai was experiencing.

A brave knight and his valiant stee--what the hell am I writing? A Fairytale? Dalton get your happy ass in there and save the prin--Peaches.

----

Even with the ridiculous number of lamp posts that lined the streets, Nada was still a city of darkness. Not only darkness of the heart, but of the normal every day shadow variety. A figure detached itself from a patch of said shadows near the front of a store, a large, brightly colored sac of plastic was slung over the figure’s shoulder. Thin limbs were connected to a stout sturdy torso, the hair stood out from his head in a wild wreathe. Soft leather shoes carried him away from the shadowed window of the store behind him. The light flashed in his bright orange eyes, highlighted the lean muscles pulling at the elastic fabric of his green sweater. The bag was now easily readable as:
“ Moo-moo Fertilizer”
The next lamp highlighted the bright white of his teeth, which were easily visible due to the size of the grin on his face. Turning to look over his shoulder [not the one saddled with the sack] the man let loose a whistle:
“Come on Wanna--it’s only a little bit of plaster.”
The glass doors in the shop the ranger had just exited exploded outward with a scream:
“SHUT UP! THIS THING IS FUCKING HEAVY! IF IT’S SO EASY MAKE LILA CARRY IT!”
At the sound of her name, the Oddish [who was currently wrapped in Dalton’s arm blinked, shaking her head. The trainer obviously shared her opinion:
“ Oh la-la shouldn’t carry it! It is her birthday gift after all!”
“IT’s NOT HER DAMN BIRTHDAY!”
“ Her Christmas gift then.”
“IT IS SEPTEMBER YOU DUMBASS!”
The Elekid finished shouting. Yellow fur flashing in the sun, the loud-mouthed creature exited the store, the expression of rage on its face was hidden b y the giant pot currently teetering in his arms.

The ranger paid no heed to the whining, and instead turned the corner. The man came out onto the next street to see a figure in a rather large dress staggering down the street opposite.
“Someone has obviously drank a little too much~”
Dalton stated with a chuckle, catching a brief view of fluttering fabric, and bright platinum hair. The pressure of the bag resting on his shoulder increased, and obeying its demand he resumed his journey. Occasionally he threw a glance toward the street--always managing to catch sight of the girl on the other lane [who was rather flat chested].

“MAGIC!”
A feminine shriek rose from the ranger’s arms, and he smiled at the Oddish.
“Magic where?”
“She went--POOOOOF!”
Instincts honed by years of police work--sent a feeling of wrong rocketing through the ranger’s body. Eyes narrowed, Dalton turned to examine the street behind him. The girl was gone.
“ STAY BACK WANNABE! WATCH LILA!”
The man yelled, not quite aware of the need for secrecy and caution, he took off across the street. Feet smacked the pavement, long muscles propelled him across the asphalt, he lost not a step, as he turned onto the sidewalk, and ran toward the last spot he had seen the young woman.

The place made his nose wrinkle, the scent of unseen garbage assaulted him, as did a feeling of danger. An alley opened up in front of him, resembling the ancient maw of a beast, or the unexplored depths of a cave.
“Miss….I ..are you down there?”
The grumblings of a gruff voice were just audible from his position. Taking a few long strides forward he peered into the darkness.

“Bastard.”
The man hissed to himself, quickly stepping to the left, and dropped the bag of dirt into his hands.

Using his ears to guide him, the ranger swung the weighty bag backward, and threw it.

Dirt exploded from the already torn bag, the sack slammed into the wall--and black snow reined down from above. The loud slap of plastic on brick echoed throughout the citadel.

An attempt to distract the bad guy--would it work?

The ranger waited.


--

The Oddish was now left in a pile of leaves on a street corner, both of her ruby like eyes watching her trim trainer disappear into the night.

--

The Elekid staggered to a spot next to Lila, before sitting down the heavy flower pot and leaning on its edge.

--

The pair waited for Dalton, the Elekid occasionally aimed a kick at the Oddish, or muttered a mean comment. The night obviously made him nervous, if one could judge by his nervous muttering and twitching.
“Imma go check on the damn moron. Stay here Weed. Idiot probably got lost. I'll come back for ya later."

[IT SUCKSSSS S O BAD. I am so sorry....]

[Jachai J. Jean-Jacques III]

((Nuhhh. Does not. xD Not as much as this does, anyways. ;3))

“No, nonononono, please no-”
“Shut the fuck up!”

He felt a whine trying- and failing, because of the sudden fear to make any noise at all- to escape his throat as he was pushed forwards against a rough wall, his arms trapped in front of him by force and by threat; an adrenaline-laced feeling of ridiculousness rushing through his body. This. Was not. Supposed. To happen. To HIM. Why, of all the times he’d gone out, did he have to get picked on by some sneaky thug NOW? Why, when he was a little drunk, and a lot lost, and all alone, and without any static charge, and when he was wearing a freakin’ dress, of all things anti-intimidating!? It was so ridiculous, and scary, and stupid; he almost felt like he was watching it happen from outside of his body. Though, he felt everything anyways… It was almost painful, his heart was beating too fast in his chest and there was this feeling; something strong- electrical, even- prickling his arms, neck and back. But, in the place of any significant charge, there was merely consuming fear and a miniscule amount of static building up from it. Even less than after-a-tumble-dry SOCK static.

A high-pitched- and to his dismay, very girly -yelp made it clear that Jachai had not gone mute from shock; feeling the hand that had once been pressing the stylish weapon into his back brush against the back of his legs just above where his knee was. Peach could only assume what the other was down there for, and he did not like his first assumption! Not one bit! Of course, it was probably the SECOND assumption, which was a whole lot less gutter-minded, but the little lad couldn’t help but go with the first and worst thought. Knowing what the boy had been thinking by the way his entire body had tensed up, the coffee-breathed man growled in his ear, clearly disgusted with the implication.

“Don’t flatter yourself, ya little cunt, I’m not here for-”

The man fell silent after hearing another male’s voice- distinct from unintentional noises from passersby- at the end of the alley that lead to the open street; though the blond couldn’t make out what the third person had said… he couldn’t even bring himself to look down to that end! He was too busy dealing with all the traumatic thoughts in his head- and the cocktail of alcohols (and who knows what else; he didn’t know what they stuck in those drinks) that had been muddling his brain wasn’t helping much with his thought processes either.

“God damnit-”

And then there was a really loud, plastic slapping noise nearby that made them both start, the sound followed by a shower of vaguely gross-feeling bits of matter. Was it raining dirt? Busy with that speculation, he didn’t even see what was coming next, a swift thwack to the back of his head and a spin-about; eyes too watery and unfocused due to the blow to make out anything other than a vague shape of a person. Of course, he did notice the medical patch was coming off through all of that, so he’d ended up having one hand slapping overtop of it, not quite sure why he was trying to cover it up anyways. It had to have been a good reason for it to be automatic, right?

“You’re not worth my ti-..me …”

A dangerous pause...

“Wait, don’t-”- and his hand got ripped off his face by the wrist, the medical patch crumpling in his grasp. Why was that bad? OH GOD THE MARK. Wait. Why was that bad, again? He didn’t have to wear it at home, why would it make a difference in the dark privacy of an alley-

“I’m coming back for you, ya piece of mix-breed shit.”

Oh. That was why. Haters. He blinked owlishly at the man, noticing his sight was returning—the guy was a bald person? Bald people were supposed to be cool- and a swift kick to his nether regions plus the added pang of another POW from the butt of the Glock (this time to his temple) sent his tail-end directly to the ground, vision once again blurred like mad and his sense of balance destroyed. And he felt like he was going to throw up and die. Can’t forget that! There was a whoosh of wind that he didn’t notice- being caught up with, I dunno, getting kicked in the crotch- and the man was gone; presumably running off further down into the alley, away from the street. Poor little Peach, of course, was left to deal with the aftermath. And a painful aftermath it was. Well, at least he could still live- until the day he died!

“Ow owh… criminy…”

He probably would've preferred death to that below-the-belt (or was it dress now?) shot, though. Probably.

[Feather]

Dalton's eyes narrowed, that squeal was not one of happiness, or romantic delight. It wasn't the squeal of a girl over a kitten--it was the scream of something in trouble. A single hand crept down to his belt line, front two fingers slowly clasped together, muscles jerked upward. Then with a bemused look, the ranger looked down at his clenched hand--where nothing but open air rested between his fingers. None of the reliving weight of cold hard steel, no trigger laid inches from his index finger. Instead he found himself grasping open air.
"Well of course silly.. you're not a cop anymore--no free firearms for you."
The voice was full of laughter--but also brimming with anxiety. Dalton's bottom lip disappeared beneath his top jaw, jagged little teeth tore at his lip--which amazingly was still upturned in a smile.

--

Dirt rained down like black snow, and even though it had been a distraction tactic, Dalton felt sheepish. Not only had he wasted money on good dirt--but he would be rushing into an alleyway blind. This particular sector was not familiar to him, and no doubt was just brimming with trash, and garbage to trip up his normal graceful feet.
"God Damnit..."
The words echoed from the depths of the fog, and even though it was a perfectly normal reaction to being covered in dirt--Dalton felt his hackles raised.

There was a reason he had been called daredevil--besides his liking for suicidal sports--the ranger knew how to rush into dangerous situations, and get out alive.
"Gun or not...can't let some silly old man harass a sweet little lady.."
Shoving himself off from the wall, Dalton dove into the black fog. The man kept his eyes hooded in an effort to keep the dirt out of them. A single hand trailed along the walls, brushing along the tops of open garbage cans, and coming off grey and soot covered.

The voices were ridiculously loud for such a small alleyway, and following their source, Dalton jook a single [quiet] step toward the criminal. The dirt flew from his feet, splashing at the dirty asphalt. The ranger listened to the words--not truly processing. The situation was quickly divvied into good guy and bad guy. The big hulking shadow [whose back was covered in dirt--was obviously the bad guy. The scared whining figure, the one in the skirt was the poor little damsel in distress. The gun's outline was lost in the dark haze, and all Dalton saw was two silhouettes, one making a violent grab for the other, and the other pleading for the first not to.

--

The last of the dirt drifted to the ground, and Dalton was afforded a clear sight of the perpetrator. The bald, hunking man was registered as an elderly small timer, nothing to worry about. At least. That was until the bright eyes settled on the gun--the man moved his hand in a downward position--but luckily for Jachai it was a simple pistol-slap and not a shot. The ranger watched as the young lady went down, his breath escaped in an angry hiss. Odd thing was--he was still smiling, but somehow it transmitted rage, and anger. It was tense, and tight, the sharp edges of canines were visible below the gum line.

...

Wait until he turned the gun away...

No beating the shit out of him until he turned around…

No use endangering the girl….

Even if the guy more than deserved it.
--

Half breed?
From his half crouched position [behind a obscenely large--and rather full garbage can] Dalton observed the situation. A single leg was drawn back, and with a powerful flick of muscles a foot smashed into the pretty young ladies nether regions.

Now if she was a guy...

That would ..really...really hurt.

--

Even Dalton winced in sympathy.

--

The second the man turned away from Jachai--the gun swiveled with him--Dalton moved into position. Much like an attack dog, he made a straight line for the other man. Who while shorter was broader--and likely weighed a lot more then the lithe ranger. It appeared the fellow had too much of a head-start, and being sure to commit the fellow's appearance to memory, he turned back toward Jachai--a smile o n hs face.
"Well~ you're lucky he didn't blow your brains out missy~ and that you're not a ....fellow"
Hey. The little lady seemed familiar. Through a veil of bitter memories, and alcohol he began to piece together where he had met the pretty girl.
"Do you have a brother...?"

Dalton was never a very good person to talk to victims--his priorities were not only skewed, but his constant happiness came off as callous and rude.

--

So when he should have been asking Jachai how was feeling--or if he was bleeding, he instead took a walk down memory lane.

--

It was then that he noticed Jachai moaning in pain, and looked past the dress, and dirt to the face underneath.
"Or not so lucky...owchies..."
While Dalton caught sight of the odd mark, he said nothing, and instead offered the much younger lad a hand.
"Now...it's silly to run around in momma's clothes--even sillier to do it with drunk men about."
The smile still remained--and for some reason he looked ready to burst into laughter.

--

The next sound out of his mouth however was not laughter , instead it was a simple exclamation:
"CRACK!"

Now please...

Don't make me explain our dear Prince Charming. I don't quite get it either. . . or at least not until the next post..word count and all.



[This post.. is seriously crap..I am so sorry Shaki luff. Sorry it's outta order too. I think homework killed my brain.}

[Jachai J. Jean-Jacques III]

((That was a bit confusing…. But well worth reading! xD *pats*))

Footsteps going slightly past him-presumably- and halting nearby intruded on his reverie of pain, but he ignored them for the most part, only praying that they weren’t a danger to him; he didn’t think he could stand another licking like the one before without having a heart attack or dying of very unpleasant feelings! He heard also- after a moment- the grinding of a shoe against the now dirty (if it hadn’t been in the first place) floor of the alleyway, signifying this person apparently had the need to turn about. Curiosity piqued, his eyes opened fully; an attempt to ignore the immobilizing sensation from the kick swiftly failing despite the just-over-half-hearted attempt. Breathe, little man, remember to breathe. Can’t be dying of oxygen deprivation after surviving an almost-mugging; now can we? Especially when one has a helpful guest! A vaguely Ricor-like scolding sounded in his head and he looked up, leaning his head back dazedly against the brick, a bit of a wince marring his features for a nanosecond. That man hit his head awfully hard! The blond watched the other man as he- he had freaking insanely bright eyes!- spoke, confusion running rampant across Peach’s face. Missy? Did he really look that much of a girl!? And then he noticed the other’s brain obviously hitting a wall somewhere too. He looked a little familiar, now that he was really focusing…

“Nope, juust me…”

Jachai had half a mind to just lie and say he did indeed have a brother just to be troublesome for thinking he was a FEMALE, but he couldn’t pull off the girl shenanigan for much longer, not when the pain-in-the-crotch-that-only-a-manslashboy-could-get-after-being-kicked would be evident after he finally got up, whenever that would be. Probably as soon as he got his breath back. And- as he soon found out- he didn’t look so much like a girl that one couldn’t TELL after really looking. Well, that was reassuring! Good thing he vowed to never wear makeup, otherwise that would make for some VERY confused acquaintances, apparently. And that would be very weird. Nope, dresses weren’t weird at all. Make-up was for the real wierdos. Not for Peaches, oh no. At the man’s comment about dressing in his mother’s clothes- how did he know?!- and how he shouldn’t do that whilst there were drunkards about, he smirked; a quite uncharacteristic, even devious streak much like the one from WAY earlier in the night clearly visible on his features. Forget getting a tad mugged; he was gonna be a smug little b-… boy. Still.

“Hah, he’s not the drunk one…”

He replied in a thinly coy tone and he took the hand that was offered- covering his mark with one of his own, not thinking about if the other already saw it- doing his best to not use that nice person’s hand so much to get off the ground. Somehow, he had a vague feeling of nostalgia from the humane interaction of getting helped up; and thought it better not to yank around on the other too much; though the other- older? criminy- lad didn’t feel at all fragile like he kept sensing. It was… fairly weird to see the man grinning like that- like he had been the entire freaking time- and he was about ready to turn about to see what he was smiling so crazily for when he yelled a single, monosyllabic word. Jachai, of course, jumped like he did when the bag of dirt had smashed up against the wall earlier, a short nail of his scratching a little over the mark in surprise.

“… Crack?”

Crack… crack. There were cracks in the walls… why would he just randomly yell- Oh, that kind of crack? Oh god, that crack? Your boss’ crack? The crack you almost broke your elbow trying to conceal? You never told anyone about that, not even Ricky, because you promptly forgot like you always do so you could protect your fragile little puppet-mind from being tainted by a messy, cruel, real worl-

“… D-…? Whuh?”

DO NOT IGNORE ME ANYMORE MISTER, I AM YOUR BRAIN AND IM GONNA KICK YOUR ASS IF YOU DON’T REMEMBER. THAT PIVOTAL MOMENT. IN YOUR LIFE.

“It was not pivotal!... Sorry, mister… … Ahm.”

And after that childish verbal protest against himself, he pretty much swallowed all the words that were threatening to come out and be known- to him, particularly- if he didn’t immediately shut his mouth. Or, he at least tried. They still hovered blatantly around his brain like a hive of naughty bees stuck between a storm window and a normal paned window, smacking against the glass and repetitively buzzing angrily at him for freedom. But he couldn’t let them out, because…

“… they’d sting me—where’s Wannabe?”

At least that felt about right to say. He remembered the mean one’s name first, of course. That was simply spectacular! Couldn’t remember the nice guy’s name first, always have to go directly to bad people before settling on something that’s worth-

“He’s yellow. Like a bee.”

And his eyes widened marginally at the two broken sentences and the obvious following thought; making him appear to be simply mystified at the notion of a young gold-and-black pokemon about yay high and with a temper twice his size at least… Peaches’ intelligible, Ricky-esque side wasn’t so enamored by the thought of the little beast, but his heart clung to it, trying to keep it still, something less frightening to focus on. To his surprise, it didn’t work; the darkness from before crept back in at a single realization. Wannabe would’ve been complete walk in the park compared to a few minutes ago… And it wasn’t the first time he’d felt so awful- one could probably see him slip back into a slightly worried, pained expression at that- but this… it had been a long time he’d felt so… scared. And his thoughts about bad things ended there, even the Ricky in his head pulling him away from that bee.

Must’ve been a horrible bee, especially if it involved the poli-

“OKAY it’s too dark back here!”

And if that man whose name he was sure started with a big capital D had pulled away from that hand at any point, said man would have to then dodge that hand which was attempting to grasp- harder than necessary, one might add- onto his wrist or fingers or something attached to the end of his arm to avoid being dragged out of the alleyway onto the dimly-lit street by a little lad determined to walk very quickly away from his apparently dank past. THAT HE WAS NOT REMEMBERING. EVER.

((WOOPS. I made this way more… revealing and dramatic and stupid than I thought I would… ;x And I'm sorry there'snt much to respond to either! *hopes it was at least kinda entertainin' and promises to involve ye more next post I SWEAR 8X*))

[Dalton[ SMILE!]]

[Sorry I rushed--homework. I couldn't really think of a way to make the time work.. and give a half decent post.. XD My fault.]

The man turned toward Jachai? Was that a slur? A thick smell washed into his nose, and Dalton nodded. Poor girl was drunk--or guy.
"Ooh.. but you look so familiar.. it will come to me.. it will....."
You had to give the guy credit--it was dark, and only the bright fabric was extremely visible in the darkness. The man eventually pegged Jachai without groping his chest.

Dalton began to chuckle when Jachai spoke again, long lithe fingers now clenched about his nose.
" Don't I know it? It smells like you went swimming in a beer keg. Though I woulda thought your little experience would somber you up again."
The smile on his face faltered, and Dalton shifted position, his crouch slowly lowered, so he was sitting on his knees in front of Jachai--both eyes brushed over the other's face, marking youth, innocence, and the hazy look often credited to drunks.
"...aren't you a little young to be wasted? Just a little?"
The heady smell of alcohol brought back memories of unhappy times, and Dalton was tempted to go cause havoc in the nearest bar. Not because of drunkenness, but to lecture people on the negative effects of alcohol, and then to dance on the nearest tabletops with his shirt off. Just because he found it fun, no drugs included. With a blink--the man's eyes narrowed. Instantly the jovial face was turned into the jaded face of an adult, the smile only the smallest hint at the edge of his lips.
" Now look.. you don't need to go and get drunk--and nearly be...err...harmed by much larger men to have fun. It ends with you being the one in pai--"
The serious tone faded into a series of short barking laughs, and Dalton turned his face back to Jachai--grinning like a kid on his birthday. The laughter faded, and a hand descended to pat the dress-wearing boy on the shoulder. The words held a kind of blissful shrug, and seemed friendly even while being honest.
'Never been good at the adult stuff ya know? But seriously--you're not gonna feel too good in the morning kiddo~"
One hangover on his first day on the force had cracked him of any urge to drink. However, that pain was nowhere near strong enough to stop the bottle from pressing to his lips after Baha's deat--

No. None of that. No time for that "woe me" shit when a poor kid in front of him had almost been violated by a man twice his size.

The slap of a memory shattered all unhappy thoughts, leading to Dalton's rather loud shout. With a grin, and grasping Jachai's wrist in his palm, the ranger rose to his feet, trying to pull Jachai up with him. The muscles in his shoulder began to tighten., but Dalton ignored them, and concentrated on getting the obviously drunk lad back to a vertical position--even if it was going to be a shaky one.
"Crack. The white powder stuff, snort it and crap. You're the crack kid. Right? Did you do something with your hair? "
What Dalton saw as a new hairstyle, was the fact that Jachai was cross-dressing, and looked a lot more feminine for it. Distracted by a motion, the ranger's eyes jerked down to Jachai's hand. Following the movement of Jachai's finger, his eyes settled on the mark.
" Didn't that used to be a scab or something...eh ? Pretty little doodad whatever it is. "
The alley was dim, and Dalton could just make out an odd colored smudge beneath the boy's fingers--was this what he had tried to hide? Silly boy brought attention to it--otherwise he doubted the man would have noticed.
"Pivotal? Holding a different conversation in your head kiddo? In please ..no mister. Just Dalton--but I will reply to D if your drunken tongue can’t say the first."
The ranger did not think Jachai weird or strange--which was understandable when one looked at him. So what if he chose to wear a dress? So what if he had conversations with his mind? Who didn't talk to themselves?
'Someone needs a good sobering up--nothing around here to sting you. Not really...."
Well there were some dangerous critters, murderers and rapists, but they wouldn't really bother with Jachai probably.
"Wannabe? ...eh? Oh him? Little darling is waiting across the street--I'm trying to make him work out. Where's your little buddy.. blue.. white thing?"
Plusle right? Or was it a Minun?
"Sure he is--striped too , but unless he reproduced he isn't a they love~"
Now what the hell was this kids name? John? Jack? J-dog?
"BUT I DO HAVE A SWEET LITTLE BABY! DO YOU WANNA SEE HER? BET YOU DO KID!"
Kid.

Damnit. Hopefully he wouldn't notice the cover-up.

--

The hand was now being crushed in a surprisingly sure grip, and half stumbling himself, Dalton found himself being yanked down the street like a dog on a very short leash.
"The lights right there, wait a minute kiddo! I'm way too old to be drug around at a hunch, I'll get a hump."
legs spinning in large wheels, Dalton eventually straightened up--and did not try to pull away from Jachai, even as the fabric billowed against his legs, tripping him up.
"see there's your pal right there.. sitting on a pot..where's Lila?"


Thhe Elekid had his legs dangling over the edge of the overturned pot, and turned to glare at Dalton as he was yanked out of the alley.
"You and your girlfriend get lost--your very flat chested boyfriend?"
"No I helped save him from robbers?"
"HIM!? HAH."
Wannabe had no idea what cross dressing was.

Dalton had no idea that his poor Oddish was currently trapped beneath a dome of clay.

---

[Jachai J. Jean-Jacques III]

((Bleh. ;/))

Jachai merely grinned up to the man as he voiced a very choice set of words, resisting the urge to murmur ‘That’s what she said’ out loud. It was highly inappropriate, but still very funny. He frowned a little at the man when he implied he smelled A LOT like alcohol. He wasn’t that drunk!- … was he? Someone might’ve spilled something on him, he wasn’t sure…

“Did not…”

His voice wasn’t all reassuring, though. It was rather pansy, actually, but he wasn’t going to admit that to himself just yet… He smiled again and then snorted as if the dirt-bag-throwing hero were being ridiculous, this time responding to the implication that he wasn’t old enough to be carousing about and drinking alcoholic beverages. Of course he wasn’t, but…

“I’ve seen younger, and I bet you have, too.”

That was completely truthful. Jachai had, sadly, seen younger kids getting more trashed than he was; but of course they were all bigger than he was, and were probably more experienced with holding their liquor, so who was he to try and make them stop? Not a good person… at least, not a good, strong-willed person. Jachai had nothing to do but watch as this older man tried- and failed, to the other’s apparent amusement- to have the ‘no alcohol’ talk with him. He’d gotten the full ‘You’re a crazy bugger, aren’t you?’ look on his face before the end of that spiel, quickly wiping it away as the other patted his shoulder heartily. At first, he’d assumed the nuttiest people he’d meet would be other drunken people… not so! Clearly. At least he was a nice man.

The blond hummed in distracted agreement that yes, he was indeed the ‘crack kid’ as the other so delicately put it, and then promptly shook his head when the other asked if he’d done something to his hair. He had stiffened when the other asked about his mark- he’d noticed where those orangey eyes were and nobody looked at his cheek like that unless they were talking about it- but relaxed a little when the older made no move to uncover his secret.

Jachai, not being a very nice drunk, had automatically decided he would’ve swatted the other on the arm for suggesting that he was too drunk to say a NAME correctly-he WASN’T THAT DRUNK- but his mind was distracted by more urgent and dark things than a simple comment. By the time the other mentioned Wannabe, he was paying better attention again, and the notion that the one he remembered most was close by made him feel a small bit better. His blue and… white friend? It was blue and yellow, silly.

“Ricky’s at home.”

He wanted Ricky to be there with him so much in that moment. But he wasn’t, he was only there in spirit, pestering him like he always did only less physically. In what seemed to be a few moments, he’d learned that this man had a baby- a girl, how sweet!- and that he himself wanted to evacuate the alley, so he nodded furiously and dragged him out onto the street, strangely callous to the protesting (though he did almost laugh at the poor guy), noticing the bright yellow kid immediately. The words of the elekid and said kid’s partner were slightly lost on him as he looked the much smaller form up and down. He seemed… bigger. Wait, wait. ‘Where’s Lila?’ That’s a girl’s name- where’s the baby? There was a lost baby? Peaches’ eyes widened and he (attempted to) drag Dalton across the street to Wannabe with a purpose, peering around for a child of some sort.

“Did you lose a baby, little man?”

He gave the small yellow dude a disapproving look while he spoke, leaning down a little and having to bend back up quickly so he didn’t fall over. Apparently he was unbalanced! Not because he was a little drunk- someone just spilled something on him, for sure! With that, he finally relaxed a little with the death-grip on Dalton’s fingers, trying to ignore the irrational- but nonetheless present- fear that ran through him at the thought of letting go. He was standing right next to him; logically, Peach shouldn’t have been so scared as to be… clingy… BUT, at least he wasn’t doing something worse. What he really wanted to do was subdue someone- probably poor Mister D- in an oxygen-depriving hug, but that would’ve been EXTREMELY rude. And he didn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea, though there was just as much implication in holding hands as there was in practically killing someone in a hug. Poor ol’ lad. Probably had no clue that he’d ended up helping the biggest sissy in all of Remoor!

“Sorry man-” He paused for a second-
“-hm, Dalton-” –and accentuated the other’s name.
“-but, ah… could please you help me find m’cycle? I promise I’ll be outta your hair after that.. I’ll… I’ll clean your house or something, if you want. Just…”

He trailed off because it was pretty darn obvious what he was saying, which was basically ‘PLEASE don’t leave me alone until I can go faster than a person’. And he was completely serious about the ‘clean your house’ bit… he probably messed up Dalton’s whole night, and cleaning up was probably one of the things he was better at- other than making a light bulb turn on without any apparent source of power- so he figured he owed the guy for the trouble. Probably owed him for last time, too, if he remembered everything correctly… Jachai didn’t end up dealing with the crack problem himself. Actually, nobody had dealt with it, to his knowledge, but that wasn’t the point! He didn’t have to confront his boss about it or report him, and that was that!

[Dalton[ SMILE!]]

"No it didn't sober you up? Or no you didn't go swimming in a beer keg?"
The ranger asked in quiet mockery, grinning at the tone of voice in which Jachai spoke. The boy sounded much more like a whiny toddler, then a victim of a vicious beating--well a rather hard pistol slap--and the immature part of Dalton felt compelled to answer with "do too". With a good bit of determination, and a press of the lips, the ranger was able to vanquish the childish urge, and say the above with only the slightest twinkle of mischief in his pumpkin-colored eyes. The next words out of Jachai's mouth smothered the resolute little twinkle, and his lips quivered for a moment.
" Yes. I have. But do you really think that kind of justification works on me? I see younger kids doing a lot of things..I doubt you'd wear a diaper around because a toddler does.... no that I haven't thought about that one before."
The free hand now curled over his torso, laying loose over his bent knees. The smile returned, somewhat subdued, and it spoke of a small little triumph. If that was all the kid had for a reason to drink, well--he didn't have one at all.

No more lecturing though. It made him feel like a an undisciplined child. Especially since his advice usually involved odd stories, and tales of guilty dangerous pleasures.

No boy wanted to hear that--especially one laying on cold pavement with a dress curling around his legs.

---

The man's lips swooped skyward, when Jachai confirmed his thoughts. In fact, he even gave himself a quick round of applause.
"Thought so.."
Maybe the boy had lost weight? Or did a dress really make you look that different--even your hair? Maybe he should find out when he got home. Maybe.
"Ricky? Cute little Minun. Why did you leave your Pokemon at home though kiddo? Kind of got the priority backwards--he should be the one wandering around alleys by himself, not you~"
Pokemon could defend themselves, half wasted boys, in what looked like pumps, and frilly dresses on the other hand probably had a harder time with that.

The ranger shrugged when Jachai ignored him, and ended the argument with Wannabe with a childish point of the tongue. The ranger was careful to keep his dirt covered boots off the folds of the dress. No need to muss the beautiful piece of tailoring. Dalton made no connection between the boy's forceful tugs and Lila's disappearance, and allowed the dragging to continue.

At least until they reached the street.
"LOOK BOTH WAYS DEAR~"
Dalton squealed, grinding his heels into the curb, and stumbling backward--the arm held by Jachai hung out like a taut tether between the two.
"Whoah whoah--Jay.....JACHAI! Hang on a minute kiddo. Why the rush?"
The boy seemed to teeter himself, obviously unbalanced, and Dalton found himself muttering:
"Did too."
The grip relaxed, and Dalton had yet to straighten himself out, and for a moment stood at an impossible position in space.
The tether snapped, and Dalton stumbled backward, hand blotched red in the lamplight. Wiggling the tingling fingers, he returned his gaze across the street, eyes trying to catch a single glance of navy.
"WANNABE ! Where's LILA!?"
"Dunno Daltbeen.. little pest probably went and jumped into a trash-can or something."
"..Lila baby--Daddy's here. What did the mean old Wanna monster do with you?"
The ranger crooned, before setting off across the street.


'Shut up ....you have no right to stare at me like that.. little freak..."
The Elekid muttered to Jachai. The Elekid was smirking, legs tapping a rapid tattoo against the clay pot beneath him. Fat juggled throughout his body, as he hopped down, and began to walk across the street.
"I didn't lose a baby--baby lost herself--and sides that thing is not a baby! It's a never ending hell of spoiled brat!"
The pot calls the kettle black.

Dalton merely rolled his shoulders in a shrug.
"Nothing to apologize for kiddo. Sure I'll help you find your cycle..."
Pausing he slowly chuckled.
"not that you owe me a house-cleaning--just the keys."
No kid was driving off drunk under his watch--even if it was on a tricycle!

--

Wiyhout heeding his own advice, Dalton took off across the street, ears perked for the little squeals he had begun to hear.
--

"POPPA!"

--

Where oh where had his little darling gone? At the top of the tower like any beautiful princess he supposed.

No tower here.

Well there went his ideas.


[[[[EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEWWWW]

[Jachai J. Jean-Jacques III]

((You can take control of ‘Adam’ if something sinister strikes your fancy. He’s an equal-opportunity hater. xD))

The littler lad had to think about it for a few moments before nodding at Dalton, trying to kill two birds with one stone. Of course he’d done neither, goodness! When the other had gotten all serious again- ah, well, who could blame him after that comment- he’d been listening intently UNTIL the diaper bit. Then Jachai couldn’t help but cover one of his eyes with the unoccupied hand and chuckle. That was a very silly thing to mention, especially if one was trying to be all grim about the conversation and everything. He probably wasn’t, if he’d had the audacity to say such a thing. This guy was apparently easily excited… he’d done a little clapping number for himself over guessing how they’d first met. How the roles had switched! He was usually like that… stupid song, getting him into trouble! When the elder mentioned Ricky, Jachai felt a bit of a pang in his heart, though it was more of a comfort than a burden. If it hurt a little, it meant he loved him a lot, right? Right!

“Well, he doesn’t need to see me like this… and he’s so cute when he’s asleep.”

He swiftly added the end bit, grinning guiltily. Not that he watched him while he slept, because that would’ve been really creepy... Okay, he did, but that was only because they slept in the same bed! Totally not weird for besties. It was hard not to stare at him anyways; he was just so darn adorable with his face all relaxed and not glaring or frowning at him for doing something stupid, or just being his plain old aloof self.

“And he should not. That’s just wrong.”

In contradiction to the statement, it wasn’t too unusual for his little minun to go off into the city by himself for hours while Peach was working at the shop. Jachai highly doubted he was alone, though; Ricky was a total player. He probably went out to romance the little ladies that caught his eye…

Before either of them really knew what was happening, Jachai was practically ripping arms off trying to get them across the street- stupidly forgetting that a street was also a place for cars, and being a little racehorseishly ignorant about what the other was loudly saying to him- and was just realizing that maybe the other guy didn’t want to barge directly into traffic when he let go, just before he would’ve stepped off the curb. And it felt scary and awful, but it had made him stop, so it struck him that maybe it had happened for a good reason. There was a car passing by, after all. Reinforcing the sudden afterthought of his actions, a Ricor-esque voice in the back of his mind complained that he didn’t need to be so freakin’ clingy, at least not in public. But of course, it didn’t change what he himself felt… Ricky was so going to suffer death by hugs when he got back home! It was a slightly comforting idea.

“.. Oops. Ah. Next time, I promise.”

Peaches managed to not shake in his boots- not pumps, although that would’ve been kinda funny- when he turned to give an apology for trying to make them both roadkill in a slightly guilty voice. He was surprised very much when, despite having just warned him to look before crossing, the other walked over there, calling out sweetly for the baby… toddler?... girl! There wasn’t much for him to do other than to listen to the man and his small gold partner exchange words, feeling sort of weird about the thought of a baby jumping into a trash can. Could babies do that? The younger man looked a tad more shocked when the elekid spoke to him- muttered, rather- and his open-mouthed look at the rude comment transformed into something just slightly twisted, after a moment.

“My, aren’t you the poster-boy of politeness.”

Tone gentle but mildly sarcastic, he smirked back; not really in the mood quite yet to combat the yellow guy. He could’ve mentioned some things to better counter that comment, but he remembered feeling guilty for a while about whatever he did last time to make Wanna be nice, so he figured he’d better restrain himself like he usually did. That poor baby; having to hang around that rude- and slightly hypocritical- elekid all the time! At least he wasn’t swearing as much; from what he remembered, the feisty lil’ guy had been quite the potty-mouth.

“Oh, thank you…”

After using his manners on Dalton- who didn’t seem to be as alarmed as he should be if his own offspring was MIA- Peaches got a little fuzzy, incomprehensively looking around the street, apparently a mite lost in thought. How was he supposed to go home if he was just gonna take the keys away? Goodness. A lot of people were weird, but this tangerine-eyed guy was something else! Idly, he wondered if the baby would have the same eyes… and as if on cue, he heard small, high-pitched noises that sounded vaguely like words coming from across the street.

“Papa…?”

Where the heck was she, in the sewer? He looked both ways and went over to where he assumed the noises were coming from, looking down into the street’s storm drain before deciding that a child who could talk would probably not be able to fit through the thin rectangular opening. The strange upturned pot on the street a few yards away, surprisingly, didn’t capture his attention immediately. There was a small lady to be found; weirdly-placed porcelain objects could be ignored until afterwards!

“Whats she look like, anyways?”

Jachai didn’t even know what he was looking for! Though he knew she was a girl, and a small one if he could go by the pitch of her tiny voice.

[Dalton[ SMILE!]]

" I wish Wannabe was cute when he sleeps, instead he looks like a yellow pile of fur, who sucked on a lemon.."
Dalton murmured, completely ignoring the entire point of why he had asked in the first place, or at least he did at first. Raising an eyebrow he scrutinized Jachai's face.
" ..you really didn't think about this did you? Or did you plan to be drug into an alley after getting completely plastered?"
The man tried his best to remain hapy--which made the question even more of a slap in the face. Was he condescending the lack of thought--or laughing at it like a familiar joke? Was he calling Jachai flighty--or something else?
"No mater--just be sure to bring him along next time, adorable bundle of...cute or not."
The earlier mockery was now gone--replaced with completely friendly advice. The man knew Lila was adorable when she slept--and so was his Arcanine ,always twitching and moving. Wannabe on the other hand exuded anger even while asleep--and Dalton avoided looking at the little truckle mattress where the electric type napped.
"What I meant--was compared to you--he stands a better chance of fending off big burly men. Not that he should run off and join the Nada circus."
Dalton did not encourage pokemon running off, but it was true, pokemon stood a much better chance alone in the city than an innocent boy did.

A much better chance--especially when that boy was walking around in a dress. Not to mention stumbling like a drunk.

--

'Alrighty--be sure to remember that ~"
Dalton murmured, pinky sticking out from his hand at an odd angle--it slowly jerked down. Now what was more juvenile pinky swears, or forgetting to look across the street? Hopefully the thought of being a street pancake would control Jachai next time he was tempted to run into an open street. Dalton could play chicken, and daredevil--but he was lucky--Jachai was not. Judging by his night in Nada anyway. No doubt a car would have just hit him--to make it worse.


-

The cross-dresser was not the only one who could be sarcastic.
"Well aren't I?"
With a grubby little grin he added:
"Let he in the pants cast the first stone.. or the male anyway.."
The Elekid had taken a moment to realize that he himself was clothing free--unless you count his fur. It wasn't like he was indecent or anything, and hell he looked more masculine than Jachai. Leaning back the Elekid spread his claws against the terracotta, feet tapping against the pot--in an attempt to stifle the cries coming from underneath.
"..blahblah..."


"Welcome--don't want it getting stolen or anything...."
Theft was pretty common, especially in Nada. Not to mention--if he found the bike, the drunk kid was not going to go drive off and end up in some ditch.

--

Dalton grinned, not realizing how odd Jachai would think this description--or how mistaken the boy was.
" About this high.."
The man held up a palm halfway between his thighs and calves. Royal blue tinged--with adorable little green leaves for hair. Not to mention gorgeous red eyes..."
Any moment the man seemed prepared to whip out baby photos--but instead he trotted across the street [not bothering to look before he did so].

The Oddish backed up against the dusty rim, eyes narrowed in determination. On such a baby face, the scowl was absolutely adorable--as was the shaking of muscles. Charging toward the other side of the pot, the Oddish slammed into the side, the pot moved an inch, but nothing that was noticeable.
"...POPPA!...."
Then under her breath:
"Man.. Wannabe needs to stop eating my cookies..."
Landing on the ground butt first, the Oddish began to sob.

--

Wannabe grimaced, damn loudmouth.

--

Dalton on the other hand joined in the search--dismissing the pot as well.

[Jachai J. Jean-Jacques III]

((THIS SUCKS. xD))

“Awh, he can’t be that bad…”

He was insistent on that, at least. Everyone was cute in their own way… sometimes it was just a little hard to see. Especially with one as grumpy-Gus as that guy! … Oh, thinking? Hah, goodness.

“Hah… Thinking… that’s not my strong point. Ricky’s the smart one.”

Peach tapped the side of his head. Oh, what horrible thing to admit. Not that he thought it was wrong for Ricor to be smart, but humans actually went to public school and stuff like that… they should be at least as smart as their pokemon partners-in-crime. Then, Jachai had never been one for learning from books… the best thing to learn from was hands-on experience! And oh, he’d been using those hands... To help people take off their jackets, of course! It got awfully hot in places like that. Jachai hummed in agreement that next time he’d bring his minun buddy, but in the back of his mind he knew he was totally lying. He didn’t want to make his friend go through that kind of torture. Ricky knew well enough that he was crazy- he didn’t want to go and make that assumption solid.

The lad hmm’d skeptically when the elder mentioned his little friend fending off a large man; which Ricky could probably do, but he was feeling a tad feisty at the thought that he couldn’t defend himself. He could, really, but… he wasn’t very experienced, he didn’t like hurting others, and he wasn’t charged up! Not that he’d ever used his ‘mysterious electrical phenomenon’ on anyone other than his mother, father, Ricky, and some poor individual(s) who he happened to be touching when he got super-excited… and most of those were accidental. The only one who he ever did it on purpose to was Ricky, actually, and that was usually just to charge him up without letting him stick a fork in a wall somewhere.

He watched as the older guy did some weird thing with his pinky before evidently remembering something and putting it suddenly back in its place again, Jachai taking a second or so to figure out it had been the beginnings of a pinky swear. Hah, and he thought he was cute! Think again, Peach, some old guy stole your self-proclaimed title! That brought a bit of a smirk about him, but it didn’t last for long… After the elekid made that little sarcastic retort, he had to pause, because he wasn’t sure what that particular comment was supposed to accomplish. Casting stones sure did sound silly to him, though! So, he shrugged rather carelessly-not realizing it was a jab at his masculinity, perhaps?- and continued to look for the wee little lost girl. It had never occurred to him that maybe his bike would get stolen- the thought filled him with urgency that he had to deny, since he needed to be looking for flesh-and-blood rather than metal-and-battery-juice… Jachai was quite sure he was having a nice, long string of stupid moments when he misunderstood Dalton- again!- having to think for a couple moments after watching the other’s odd descriptive display before realizing that Lila was-

“… An oddish--? ...Ohh.“

WELL that made ten times more sense! Still, he didn’t know how such short legs could be expected to launch such a non-aerodynamic little pokemon into a trashcan. Wannabe was probably jesting about that supposed route she took to MIA-ness, now that he was thinking about it thoroughly… A rare occasion for Jachai, of course of course. It wasn’t until a bit later that the youngun thought he was hearing… distressed noises, coming from where Wannabe was. Why was he all over that pot like a bear on honey, anyways? OH. WAIT. HE COULD GET THIS.

The rather awkwardly-dressed male of the troupe walked over to the yellow guy purposefully, giving him a rather stern look. Yea, Wanna looked a slight suspicious, even to a dolt like him! Peach knew he wasn’t that smart, but he knew a helpless little princess’s cry for help when he heard it! Now he had to be a valiant little knight- in a dress, yes- and save her from the big scary wannabe dragon! Or at least get turned into a fried mess on the floor for another, better suited knight to step over whilst he was doing the REAL rescuing.

“Unless you know how to throw your voice and sound like a girl-” Pausing for emphasis-

“-I think it was you with the… giant flower pot in the street!” - then pointing curtly at the small yellow kid with his index finger, turning the situation swiftly into a game of Clue rather than a fairy tale. It seemed the bout of idiot-ness was over with, and as a bonus he was sounding a little sly. How awesome was that? VAIR awesome.

[Dalton[ SMILE!]]

"Sometimes--when he screams--he gets a little vein on the side of his forehead. That's kinda cute. So is the fat jiggling when he runs--it looks like a platter of jello."
In all truth--Wannabe was the most persnickety, wicked, loud-mouthed pokemon Dalton had ever had. No doubt though, underneath that lemon-flavored coating, the Elekid was a sweetheart. Who was he to dislike someone just because they could be me an sometimes? Hell. Some of it was probably his fault, he had only shown the Elekid frowns when he was a baby--so that was why his face always had a sneer. It was Dalton's fault. The Elekid was a good guy. Sometimes it even showed--but the second Dalton smiled, or praised the Elekid, any golden actions were torn to bits with a barbed remark.
"So no.. he's not too bad...just a little grumpy."
The last word was said with a grin, and a voice opposite of grumpy.

The next words were said with a chuckle, he was only kidding around of course.
"Well everyone can't be a genius--we do need muscle-men. Or at least men not afraid to wear a skirt. But--having Ricor around would be wise."
Now, if you didn't know, Dalton thought Pokemon just as majestic, and smart as humans. While his views differed from many violent parties, he was not afraid to express them, even less afraid to do so with a smile. In fact, he was afraid to do nothing with a smile, unless it was tell someone a relative had died. Every time he had heard that, he had started out by crying, been told a joke to cheer him up, and revealed the bad news to the family with a lopsided grin.

Suffice to say--he had been slapped.
--

"Hmm? Well a few million volts can easily take out a grown man--your little buddy packs a wallop."
So would Wannabe, if the little fat ass trained with a partner, instead of on a bag of deluxe potato chips.
"Not that I'm calling you useless..."
maybe in a fight, but hell he knew how to sneak out at night, and ride a motorcycle in a hoop skirt. All admirable qualities.

--

The Elekid's face flashed red--ignore him would the little hoop-skirt wearing idiot? Teeth gently gnawed at his bottom lip, now what insult to throw next.

Dalton grinned sheepishly at Jachai--hopefully he had not noticed the little pinky dance. Not that it was embarassing--Dalton was never embarrassed. It would be just as creepy as smiling while telling a wife about their husband's death. Don't ask him why pinky swearing creeped him out--it just did. [ This paragraph is to remind met hat I am an idiot--Dalton does not feel embarrassed.]

---

"Yepp--my cute little darling. Raised her meself, nasty pack of Mightenya grabbed her mum.."
The llast part was muttered in a conspiratorial whisper--he had just told the little cutie, that her mom had went off to join the pokemon recruits--and would be back soon. It was a lie--but could you tell a little baby that their momma had been torn to little veggie dip pieces?
"..but she doesn't know that."
The man now loitered in front of the pot--to him it did not seem odd for lazy Wannabe to be sitting on a flowerpot. The calls were from underneath it--but surely Wannabe was not mean enough to stuff a baby in a jar!

SURELY NOT!
--

When Jachai accused the Elekid, the ranger's ears perked up, and he joined the stern look fest. Arms folded over his chest, his lips pursed and taut. Occasionally the lips jerked upward--bucking against the frown--they wanted to grin.
"..now Wannabe..."
It appeared the dress had it handled. With a courteous bow, the ranger stepped aside.
--

The Oddish let out a gleeful chuckle.
"They gout you Wannamonster--they gonna tear you up..hehe.."
Cute--if not slightly creepy.

--

'You obviously know how to--unless you naturally sound like that."
The Elekid replied back coolly, turning about so he now faced Jachai. Sorry to break it to the teenager--but he did not find men in dresses, very intimidating. In fact they made him want to laugh.
"Now how would you suggest I catch a quick little Oddish in a flowerpot? Huh?"
Not exactly the most case-killing question, but this guy was not the sharpest tool in the metaphorical shed.

[Jachai J. Jean-Jacques III]

((Epic. Fail.))

“Awhh- hehe..”

None of that was conventionally cute, but the lad could still see how Mr. Dalton could think of it that way… Yea, Wanna was certainly grumpy. Kinda like Ricky, only a little meaner and fuller of swearing and inappropriate gestures. Yep, he was definitely meaner! There had to be a reason for that, hadn’t there? Ricky was just too world-wary to be nice… What was Wanna’s problem, then? That would be something he’d have to wrestle out of the little yellow guy, maybe, sometime, if he even saw him again. Not likely, but then he’d thought that same thing after the crack incident…

Jachai nodded (that was certainly a repetitive motion, wasn’t it?) at the mention of needing his little buddy around… that was true, he didn’t know what he would do without Ricky around most of the time unless he got it all planned out (or not!), BUT he didn’t want his bud to watch him being… creepy like this. Wearing a dress was not shameful; all shame spawned from his earlier activities… YES! Ricky did pack quite a punch- he’d know, since he was his big ol’ human-esque battery and all. HE WASN’T USELESS? What a thought, what a thought.

“Uh-huh, can’t take it back now, damage done…”

He smirked as he looked away as though he were pissed (which he wasn’t), waving his hand around dismissively. And oh yes. He HAD noticed that pinky swear. His eyes were 20/15. Or was it 15/20? Eh, either way, he had HAWKEYES…. when he was paying attention, of course. The shorter man grinned warmly at the thought of such a cute little creature, and then the grin was lost to pity. Oh, poor little girl! Well, at least she had Dalton… he nodded understandingly, and put the information about the grim fate of her mother into a box not to be opened. Lila would never know. While the orange-eyed man was having trouble with keep his expressions consistent, Jachai was busy trying to foil an evil-esque plot involving a pot, with apparent permission from a slight bow from Mister D. His ears might’ve been deceitful, but he SWORE he heard a girly giggle… and then Wannabe INSULTED him.

“… Well, yea, I guess so.”

At least he hadn’t gaped or anything stupid. He’d even grinned abashedly, hopefully showing nothing of his real emotions to the shorter other than a slight flicker, which would’ve been normal since he’d just been INSULTED. Peach was totally a little miffed. He didn’t sound like a girl, he sounded like a boy! It wasn’t his fault his voice was kinda softer than other people’s… Oh, it was on. He was going to hit this too-big-for-his-britches elekid from an angle where nobody had hopefully even thought of going from.

“Actually, now that I’m thinking about it, yea, I dunno. I mean, you’re not THAT scary, so you couldn’t have made her stay still that way … actually, you’re kinda cute…”

Nope, calling him too slow or too dumb would’ve been boring and expected. He was grinning nicely, trying not to reveal a single trace of his plan to the other… sneakily stepping forward. This was his ball field; and shame on him if Wannabe could beat him at it!

[Dalton[ SMILE!]]

The man's grin remained, and he even found it fitting to laugh along with Jachai. It was odd that the next thing he mentioned was likely the least funny thing about Wannabe.
"Not so funny when that vein is bulging in your direction. I have no idea where he found his vocabulary, probably in a sewer."
In truth he had a pretty good idea. The television was constantly tuned to some very raunchy things, and it sure was not Dalton holding on to the remote. Either that, or one weekend the Elekid had thrown a party and invited some bad-mouthed pirates. It would explain the eye patch on the headboard. Or maybe the poor little cutie had been born with turrets.

Before he had gained all that weight, the Elekid had been adorable, but as the pounds grew so did the pouches of fat around his eyes and cheeks. Now he was less cute--and much more adult looking. Jachai was talking again, enough thoughts on turrets.
"True. It sure would be handy to be able to turn back time--play with everyone's head, and act like some kind of psychic. But--I doubt it would be legal."
Not exactly where Jachai was thinking the conversation would go, but this is Dalton speaking.
" ..I hope I get to see the little blue fella~"
If he did he would probably give the cutie a big hug--unless he was too heavy to pick up, but he really doubted that.

--

Scattered memory fragments. Walking across the street. Look both ways. Watch the confrontation. No more getting distracted by thoughts of time mach--

He was missing his soap opera!

---

The Elekid stared at Jachai. Mouth slightly slack, and onyx eyes widened to a point of hilarity. In one smooth movement, his arms shot skyward in a prayer to the heavens. It was a prayer to end human stupidity. Especially to end the stupidity of dress wearing humans who smelt like thunderstorms.
"..That you moron was an insult. ACT OFFENDED!"
Now that made Dalton laugh. It seemed that the Elekid had been foiled by his current target admitting that he was right. Most pokemon would have been happy about that one.
" ......why the fuck are you in a goddamned dress anyway? Wish you were a girl?"
Wannabe had never seen a dress like that one in fact, all the ones he had seen were form fitting. Of course--this one was super frilly. Maybe this guy had mental issues? No wonder Dalton had made friends with him.

The Elekid had been too busy being a drama queen to catch the flicker of hurt in the pokemorph's eyes, but he did catch the next comment. It promptly appeared he was choking on his own words, or a very sour lemon. The Elekid coughed, and sputtered--eyes focusing on Jachai, with a hard to identify emotion flashing in his eyes.
" I AM NOT CUTE! CUTE THINGS DON'T YELL! NOR DO THEY CALL YOU. A. FREAK!"
Wannabe was getting fed up--he was not cute! He was tough! He was scary! He gave people nightmares! He did not get called cute like a little Growlithe puppy, or prance around with bows on his ears!

" ..Well it appears Jachai pushed a button…”
Dalton muttered to himself, grinning, before taking a few steps out of the Elekid's sight range, and once again nodding at Jachai.
Keep it up kiddo~

Little homophobic Elekid, who thought he was the toughest thing such stone, was about to have it handed to him by a cross dresser.


"CUTE! CUTE! WANNA MONSTER IS CUTE!"
The feminine squeals continued from underneath the pot, joining in the cheer for Jachai.

[Yours is bad? HAH.]

[Jachai J. Jean-Jacques III]

((Fail again. ;x))

“I hope not. It’s dirty down there…”

Gross. Seriously. He was disgusted just thinking the sewers… he even forgot he was being sarcastic about it because he was just that grossed out! What were they even talking about? Ugh. Sewers. If one thing could make Jachai go off on a disgusted tangent, it was the mention of sewers… or public bathrooms, which were pretty much the same once one thought about it... No, he wasn’t crazy at all. His tangents were totally logical, unlike Dalton’s, which were all over the place and causing the older man to spit out (not literally of course) crazy-talk. It would’ve been fitting for him to have randomly put on a tin foil hat when he started on about time machines and the legality of using them. Peach had to resist the urge to implement his ‘That’s nice, crazy lady’ nervous-smiley face on the other man. Then Mr. D finally said something tangible and easy to answer.

“You might!”

Probably not. It was better for the two not to meet, anyways… Ricky didn’t really like him hanging out with older people unless they were the cookie-baking grannie kind. Dalton certainly did not fall under that category, so he’d likely be scrutinized under a hawk-eye that was trained to find weaknesses of all kinds… unless he was distracted by a certain pretty princess in dire need of saving. While Ricky was a paladin in battle, tearing through enemies with direct attacks and swift hits; Jachai was a bard, quietly slipping behind the defenses of the opposition and singing sweetly until there was no fight left in them. At least, that was the plan! He raised his eyebrows in smiling misunderstanding at the yellow kid’s demand to act offended, as though he were incapable of such an emotion. Wannabe was actually cuter than he’d originally thought; the way he flailed his arms around with that shocked look on his face was priceless. At the question afterwards, he laughed for real, speaking rather truthfully.

“Oh, no way, man. I’m nowhere near tough enough to be a girl… Lads are luckier than you’d think.”

Personally, he’d rather relive every moment being bullied as a boy than to live as a girl for one minute. They had it tough, what with all the emotionally-triggered backstabbing that went on between them, and the way their boyfriends or whatever treated them like they weren’t the same species, and let’s not forget having to do damage control after their monthly tyranitar-zilla mode. Plus, ladies could get pregnant and consequently experience childbirth. He felt holding a door for them and being polite was the least he could do to make up for all the crap they had to put up with. Poor girls… ANYWAYS, back to the little gold-and-black striped tyranitar-zilla-mode man-boy at hand! Hah, what an expression… no wonder Dalton thought Wannabe was cute when he was mad. He was! Well, in a way.

“Actually-” A slight pause gave emphasis to the first word of his reply.

“-cute things yell at me all the time, and they call me a freak too.”

The blond’s thoughts instantly went to his little blueberries-and-cream colored best friend, who did indeed perform all the listed tasks; a grin appearing on his face at the thought of the highly treasured minun. Ricky was his bestie, even though he acted mean and tough and too macho sometimes. Speaking of other pokemon who thought they were super-manly… He’d thought before that he would’ve needed to put forth more effort to conquer the ‘Napoleon’, but the little guy was walking himself into everything. How weird… it almost wasn’t satisfying! How awful. Jachai saw Dalton nod encouragingly at him out the corner of his eye, but gave no visible attention to it; not wanting the elekid to think it was all somehow the other guy’s fault that he was giving him grief. Nope. This was all him!

“Aww, see, even the pot agrees with me!”

Peach grinned at the feminine voice’s words coming out from under the clay, resisting the incredibly odd want to clasp his hands over his face girlishly at the UTMOST ADORABLENESS that he was hearing. This dress was seriously affecting his manliness! He’d have to wear it again sometime… in the not-so-near future.