E.nigma
Pravus
The Apathethic Administrator[P:0]
Posts: 120
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Post by E.nigma on Jan 10, 2010 1:07:26 GMT -5
With a locked smile Enigma merely nodded at the growled statement. "Admirable Ms Morino, standing by your morals." At least to some people. At least the girl hadn't outright turned and fled, what fun would that have beem? Though it might have been the better idea in the long run, Enigma found it admirable that shes tood her ground and decided to keep him occupied, not to mention prove him correct. The Pravus administrator was not entirely sure how this would end for Sam, only that it had a 74.321% chance of ending badly.
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The Sunflora didn't rise to that particular taunt, instead she took it with a mocking smile. "Is that what kids call it now a days? Not spirit? Well, it's more fun fightin' someone who "hates" you anywa'. No hard feelings to worr' 'bout ya know? No need to really sweat the "weed" and callin' ya an ugly pig-faced transsexual you know?" Not to mention it made them easier to instigate, and to wear out. When filled with delicious hate, and fiery spirit opponents were liable to charge around the track like rodeo bulls. It made it much easier to shatter their skulls into worm food, unless you count the boys (Enigma's other pokemon). Their hatred made it easier to flirt and manipulate, seeing as destroying their pea-brains was sadly against the rules.
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The flower tried her best not to roll her eyes at the motherly gestures, hopefully that ugly little witch never had the chance to reproduce. " You should see the other guy...if he had been allowed to stick around..." Roist tried her best to appear unhurt by the comment, but she did reach up and gently brush the scorched tips of her once perfectly symmetric petals. The fact that the girl had used "maam" though seemed a step in the right direction, if not sounding a bit over the top. Not that those rolling eyes, and slow words did not deserve a firm slap to the cheek.
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"The masta' has always said I was 'igh-spirited~" The flower replied back with a bat of her chlorophyll coated eyelashes. No doubt the lack of response would enrage the heathen girl, it would bring a smile to her if she picked the first clumsy blow.
Enigma turned toward Innuendo with a questioning gaze, what was it about women that made them hide behind so many layers during an argument? What primal wire had been incorrectly connected forcing their fights to occur between barbed words and friendly shoulder pat?. The administrator decided that reprimanding the plant any further was rather pointless, she seemed to take pride in needing to be collared and chained. No doubt she would find it arousing if he allowed one of the boys to take her place, or the flower would take it as him protecting his "baby". Women were odd creatures, but when angered were extremely useful in combat. ------
The plant savored the trembling muscles, and muted gasps as the Grumpig grasped for air, half of her disappointment in her arm's removal came from that loss of power.
The Grumpig's next actions were priceless, and the Sunflora burst out into a string of feminine chortles. The fact that she was pointing, with her head thrown back with a wicked grin on her face, sort of belayed any image of lady-like demure.
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"MOTHER FUCK---" The plant let out a squeal as the Lighting slithered up the vine, holding her in air like a butterfly beneath a metal pin. With an almost mocking crack the ostrike from above smashed into her skull, the Leech seed smashing into the ground and absorbing the strike just as the grass type fell to the ground in a limp splay. Smoke streamed from her burning limbs, sparks still leapt from the water coating her plant-like exterior. The ground enveloped her vision, and even the delicious sound of thorn cutting flesh was not enough to dull the stars that exploded in front of her vision. "Fool plant. You see a charging opponent and seem to lose all sense of intelligence. A very good move on your part Bastiodon." Enigma's sneering voice drew the plant's mud colored face from the puddle in which she currently lay, just for Samantha to make her statement. "Takes one to know one Sam..." The plant looked surprisingly uninjured for just being struck by two bolts of lighting. "There goes that phrase...." Tilting her head back she turned toward the Bastiodon with a smile, relishing in the sight of Samantha's swollen cheek. Mud dripped down her tan cheeks, resembling war paint one minute and blood the next. The plant took a single stumble forward, before rising to her full height with a wicked cackle. "Maybe this will be fun after all, don't start ordering me around yet 'Ma. I don' need your help." Little sprigs of green began to cover the bald spots left by the lightning strike.
In the failing light of the electric attack, you could see Enigma smiling. Whether it was for the silence, the slap, or the plant's words was hard to tell.
It was then that the Sunflora fell to her knees, head down and body still. Her breathing was ragged, her head hung. Ignoring the conversation she quickly threw her head back even as the sun burst through the rain battling against the storm with brilliant rays of light. Petite little petals began to fall from the sky, dancing lazily around the dust motes, glowing where the sun struck them.
The power gem approached, and the Sunflora did not seem to move, but it breezed uselessly by, and she now sat a few inches to the right of her former position.
"Janx..please..a damsel in distress~"
The vine near Samantha slowly rolled back into the plant, stopping on the way to attempt a mocking pat to te girl's marred cheek.
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The ghost rolled to his feet, when his master gently prodded him and raced toward Lily. A ball of shadows grew in his arms, which he thrust at the little pig, as it approached it grew with surprising quickness, even as the ghost dodged to the right and charged in behind it.
Not that he wanted to protect the Sunflora, but why would the heathen who could control lightning bolts leave him alone? Or even worse, why would Enigma?
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The water slowly began to dry up.
--
Even as the flower sat there, Enigma was debating on how best to change her moves. It was time she stopped refusing to use anything but grass-like moves, and became more versatile.
This battle was proving so.
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Two parts of his brain operated during his talk with Samantha, one was currently calculating the strategies for various battle responses, while the other was tearing apart the girl's words and replying to them in an appropriate manner. Which in this situation called for curtness and adult actions. White gloves, still moist, gently rubbed at his temples. " In case you have not noticed Ms. Samantha, I have avoided using said psychic channels. It is you who decided to slope the playing field." What right did she have to claim such a holier-than-thou attitude? "No. My DNA is quite stable." Or it was at the moment, unlike his predecessors he had not grown any extra limbs, or began coughing up bodily organs.
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"That's what humans always say. Too lazy to change it I suppose." The Xatu murmured with a shrug, watching the battle as Roist's aura began to flicker and grow. " You might want to get that welt treated...she probably poisoned it." The Xatu could see the welt as an angry red line in his psychic vision, and since it was short, and the girl had made the earlier comment he could figure out the cause.
Maybe the words would help diffuse the fireworks he could feel crackling, and the urges his master had to blurt everything out in some sort of sick experiment. Even with his mind closed he could sense that one.
(( Lies...)
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Post by Samantha Morino on Jan 19, 2010 20:28:45 GMT -5
"Admirable Ms Morino, standing by your morals."
”Isn’t it?” Not every ‘person’ (the term was used loosely now) could belong to the dregs of society, the scumbags and traitors and aloof morons not worth their weight in trash. Morals didn’t crumble in ‘Ms. Morino’’s mind. Then again, with morals that seemed to put her goal above her method (for better or worse) could be considered hardly morals at all… regardless, she stood by them.
"Is that what kids call it now a days? Not spirit? Well, it's more fun fightin' someone who "hates" you anywa'. No hard feelings to worr' 'bout ya know? No need to really sweat the "weed" and callin' ya an ugly pig-faced transsexual you know?"
Perhaps it was a good thing Samantha avoided carrying firearms. Had one been in her hand right now, it would have been a no-brainer; a decision that required so little contemplation that it wasn’t a decision, it was instinct. One shot, and that watermelon-sized head would splinter and ooze the creature’s disgusting supplementation for blood. Normally, jabs to something as material as appearance were easy to shrug off, but the redneck-of-a-sunflora had managed to hit a nerve – perhaps in a better mood, she would have been able to laugh it off. As cliché as the expression was, this meant war.
”Funny, coming from some shrub. Last I checked, plants didn’t have a set sex to begin with. Waiting for some unlucky beedrill to go poking around in that ugly face of your’s?”
Perhaps the pokemon adaptation of plants was different than a real, quiet, beautiful sunflower. Most likely, in fact, considering only a set of exclusive pokemon were unable to lay eggs. Thankfully, the Sunflora was unlike her master; Samantha doubted Rosalie would try to correct her, more likely try to carve another mark into her face. She was so through with this slut.
”Now, Rosalie, I’m sure you didn’t mean what you said. Why don’t you apologize before I turn you into the ugliest toasted salad the world has ever seen? Though I must say, it would be an improvement.”
Duke would only be too happy to oblige. Something was still annoying, though... Her brow creased slightly, disappointed at how ill-suited human bodies were compared to pokemon counterparts. Pokemon had survival of the fittest down to an art, each species picked over with a fine-toothed comb that determined their survival. Humans, on the other hand, could hardly try to rip apart annoying, leafy creatures without getting hurt. Pravus’s DNA projects might have been a smart idea, but it didn’t change the fact they were still freaks. Freaks fighting for the wrong side, to top it off.
“Spirited” wasn’t the right word for Rosalie. It had a much too positive connotation. It was cute, the fake batting of those strange eyelashes. It was a miracle she could see, with most Sunflora hardly ever found without a dumb grin and happy, arched eyes. Roaalie’s attention did seem to be looking in the wrong direction, with the lighting crashing towards her and stupidly pointing, laughing. The laugh was choked off when hundreds of volts of electricity pounded painfully through her, but Samantha picked up the chortles for the sunflower’s sake. Look who’s laughing now~ The amusement didn’t end, but was certainly dampened when her grey eyes noticed the leech seed torpedoing into the ground, taking some of the blast for the Sunflora. The plant’s ability to generate things like seeds and vines was incredibly useful and increasingly problematic.
If Bastiodon was pleased over the successful attack, he showed nothing. He had become sedentarily again, the need to continue the charge clearly extinguished. He nodded, acknowledging the boy’s compliment with a single gesture and a concerned sweep of his large, baleful eyes. The Bastiodon was, if anything, Samantha’s counter, her opposite, the balance. It was surprising Samantha enjoyed the mammoth’s company so much, at times even more than Duke, who was far more similar.
"Takes one to know one Sam..."
A weak parry. Samantha smiled sardonically, feeling much more in the seat of power with her adversary wallowing in the filth.
”I’m not the one slopping around in the mud, pig.”
The plant was distracted, however. Her sudden crumble brought Samantha’s hopes up that Roist had been hurt worse than she acted, but the telltale cracks of sunlight bursting through the cloud layer said otherwise. She was afraid of a little rain, now? That left things like the beginning of the battle – Lily would do well enough, but Bastiodon would need another way to pull an advantage over the tricky sunflora. And of course, Janx, but none of Samantha’s team including herself paid the Sableye any mind.
The coarse feeling of the vine against her cheek again was too easy to flinch from. Fighting the urge, she slapped the offending appendage away as it tried to almost apologize for the swelling, marred cheek. If Rosalie thought that a lightning strike was the only unhappy, painful moment in her near future she was going to be sorely disappointed.
Lily was surprised when the Sableye—Janx, was it?—began charging towards her. She stood rooted, surprised that the creature was still in the fight at all with his cowardly nature. Why did he even try?
b]”Mirror Coat.” [/b] Samantha called, knowing the imp was too close to dodge. The protective coat was thrown up just in time, the shadow ball only seconds after coming into contact with her now-glowing body. She seemed to almost “catch” the shadow ball, paws positioned to do so but the protective glowing preventing any actual contact from being made. Now the ball was literally in her court – and Lillith was ready to knock Janx out with it. She threw the ball right back at the Sableye, the ball seeming to increase in power as it was bounced right back towards the Sableeye. The glow faded shortly after, and a short-of-breath Lily scrapped together a smile. Be careeful of what you create, because it was just too easy to turn it back on you. Though the fall from the sky had been the most physically painful hit, it was quite tiring to continue using still immature psychic powers. Perhaps that’s why Samantha had started commanding the Grumpig out loud. The sun was becoming ever more persistent. This new change of weather was concerning, because with an extra boost to grass moves Bastiodon could be facing some fatal hits. He was a slow, lumbering giant. Hardly likely to be able to dodge them. His job was to brush off blows with high defenses, and pack a punch from merely sheer size alone. Let’s turn the tables…Lillith listened to the mental command, nodding. The vigorous up and down motion was a common response, almost overly enthusiastic with shaking her head up and down in understanding. Samantha sighed. Why bother communication telepathically when the creature kept nodding and affirming her orders? Another glow, a separate hue from the first, fringed the young psychic. Her eyes were closed in concentration, the stone set into her forehead growing stronger. It was vertigo. The world seemed to spin suddenly for her and perhaps some of the pokemon too, then settled. Nothing seemed too different, but the dimensions of the playing field changed in only a few moments. Trick Room made “slow” fast. Simple as that. Only Duke could throw around his weight at a great speed, but with this twisted new dimension Bastiodon might be able to land a physical hit before things got hairy. Rectangles of glowing energy now floated around the perimeter of the area they scrimmaged on, the only sign that anything had changed at all. Bastiodon saw his cue. It was time to take the spotlight. A second charge, Iron Head first, was the first test of becoming suddenly ‘up to speed’. " In case you have not noticed Ms. Samantha, I have avoided using said psychic channels. It is you who decided to slope the playing field." ”I haven’t noticed, actually.” Samantha replied, smiling. Did he assume everyone had the same psychic-sensing abilities as himself? ”I have no idea what’s been passing through that dark little mind of yours, as a matter of fact.” "No. My DNA is quite stable."”That’s avoiding the question.” the smile had faded quickly, an icy terseness filling her voice. She was done playing games of insults or sly comments, trying to interpret his empty, flat words and being ridiculed like a child. She hadn’t been lying. She had no idea what was going through his mind. When left to doubt, though, she doubted it was good. ”Answer me now. Are you, or are you not, from or associated with Team Pravus?” It was a command, not a question. She could jump around all day asking him questions about how the hell he gained psychic powers but him and his unfriendly gaggle of hostile pokemon roused enough suspicion to ask it straight. He already knew about her own opinion of Pravus, though… How could she know, what if he lied? Could you tell? she sent to Lilith, who was already listening into her thoughts preemptively. Perhaps~ a waver of fear and a raised pitch in Lilith’s small, strong voice was concerning. Samantha’s only psychic couldn’t go cringing at the thought of this boy, for the unwilling Lily was the only hope she had with these sort of things. Lily, on the other hand, was ready to fully balk at what Samantha would suggest next. That boy was creepy and probably powerful too, no use trying to… and if he didn’t want her, and he wouldn’t… it would be… Lily looked back pleadingly at Samantha, but the chilly glare returned was clear as the sunlight filtering from above. Her psychic presence hovered, hesitated, then carefully tried to latch onto the boy’s own. A lie, some sign of distress or uncomfortable behavior. That was all. She would be gone, hopefully before the boy noticed. Their psychic communications and the presence of the Xatu nearby might be enough? Might? Lily’s ears literally trembled, and though she stayed rooted in place the probing pulse from her waited for something, anything. Samantha hand brushed the throbbing wound at the Xatu’s words. ”Later. I’ll send Niggy my medical bills, of course.” she scoffed, pushing off thoughts that the Sunflora would poison her. In that case, Pravus or not, they would all jump to the top of her enemies list, an ever shortening list… ooc; gah. haven't edit'd this yet, but I'll throw it out. If something doesn't make sense, give me tonight to fix it. xDD Orchestra is so interfering...[/center][/size]
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E.nigma
Pravus
The Apathethic Administrator[P:0]
Posts: 120
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Post by E.nigma on Jan 21, 2010 23:00:56 GMT -5
Enigma did not deem the question worth his larynx, and merely nodded. When it came down to it he was more a take things as they came fellow, and did not stand next to outdated morals as the world flashed by him in an unintelligible blur, and he rusted away like the house of generosity, and lessons, beneath his ivory shoes. Standing by them was admirable, only because it required an intense amount of donkey-like persistence, and true belief. It took a good bit of courage. and he once again wished that such an interesting lady was a member of his society, not only would have he have something interesting to dissect, but the day might be a tad more entertaining. "I'm more of a ends person." After all, when you won, who would tell you that you were wrong? ----
Eyes rolling lazily between the two combatants he observed the fighting pair with lidded eyes, his lips occasionally quirked as a thought entered his mind, but it quickly lost its value, and the smile slipped back behind his emotional veil. When Samantha unsheathed her claws again, he joined in, only to offer: "It would work better with a Roserade; a Beedrill is only there to spread pollen, which in itself is a game of luck." The statement was merely a footnote, and was in no way approval for the pair's actions. It was stated in an offhand manner, accompanied by a quick tilt of the head and a small wave of the hand.
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"Sex is such a nasty little process, and for your information Miss Morino..." The title was sneered, her trainer's comments ignored. A deep breath rattled her stem, oxygen flowed from her nose in a steady stream, carbon monoxide congealing for her next bout of venomous words. Though, as usual, his words held some sort of intellectual value, they were currently about as useful as an encyclopedia during a death match. An encyclopedia with psychic powers, fangs, teeth, and masochistic tendencies. It would not be referenced in a match of insults, and cat claws. " Being a plant pokemon I do happen to have a gender, I am a sweet belle, and an ugly little toad like you would be lucky to get a stinger to the face, much less any time in bed.” The term shrub was a step above weed, why hadn’t Enigma complained about the misconstrued fact in calling her a bush? That man was so flighty sometimes. “Oh, I meant it darling. You mean your friend will attemp’ to make me a salad? But, I daresay I have wasted enough time with you, so I will leave your face further unmarked. I really couldn’t make you any less appealin‘. ” The flesh of her cheeks swollen and purple would probably make that anorexic bitch a bit more homely. Humans were no fun to fight though, they shattered like expensive vases when you so much as blew on them too hard. Samantha was like one of those cheap toys, you broke them once, and they never got up again. That was no fun, it would be better to torture her pokemon and tear her shriveled little heart into pieces.
Show her the real difference between good and powerful.
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Laugh? Laugh? That little bitch would laugh at her? In the end she would love to plant a dainty little foot on that girl’s hunched back, and show her who was truly the comedic tragedy of this century. Dear lord, where were all these Janx like images coming from? Trying her best to remain frail, the flower turned a bad natured hiss (followed by a glob of poison slicked mud) into a moan of pain.
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Enigma watched muscles shift beneath the Bastiodon’s skin, he rather liked this creature. It thought on its feet, and did not spend so much time shrieking like some Irish Banshee. It reminded him of Thoist, if not a bit more lumbering than intimidating.
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A little sun bobbed in the sprinkling rain, gesturing toward the nearby Grumpig, the sun now resembled a demon however with its lips pulled into a severe frown, its center wrinkled in rage: “The pig’s over there darlin’.” The Sunflora murmured beneath her breath, trying to resist the urge to shake herself like a filthy mutt. To be honest, she did not enjoy rolling around in the mud like some primordial spore, but she did not mind getting her stem dirty. Not to mention, it would make her look younger, if you believed all that facial bullshit anyway.
The vine slinked back to its owner, it almost seemed to purr as it was devoured by starving little strings of green. “Touchy touchy~” The plant type intoned, adding in a cough for dramatic effect, her arms descended into a hugging position, tiny thorns lined the edges of her “hands”, and gently brushed her sinew-like skin with gentle caresses.
A flash of silver caught her eye, as Janx’s rather silly move smashed into the Grumpig’s grubby little hooves. With a roll of her eyes the lilac petals floating through the air came to an immediate stop, seeming to grow beady little eyes and fix them on the tiny little pig below. With the sound of a flock of birds taking to the air the little props turned into deadly blades. If not for the fact that they could slice through trees with the efficiency of a chainsaw, the little streaks of pink, mixed in with falling raindrops would have been almost beautiful.
But, wasn’t violence in itself beautiful? Red would add to the splendor.
The Sunflora rose to her feet, brushing off mud as she nodded to the Sableye.
The petals descended in a single column, before diverging into curves, forming a heart in the air. A thin little arrow streaked through its center, these petals still maintaining their lazy dance toward the ground. With angry shrieks the first batch smashed into the shadow ball, hoping to diverge its course, the other rocketed toward the Bastiodon . “ Let me hear you shout Amen~ or Uncle. In fact….I like that better.” The third strand of flowers were threw about by gusts, and embraced by the Zephyr, they seemed forgotten by the Sunflora. The flower seemed to be following the battle, but made no move besides a final glare at Samantha.
Inside her mind however, the Sunflora conducted the lethargic petals into their own little stanza. With wave like motions they slowly moved into the forest, and out of the eyesight of the enemy began to glow as well. Settling in long dead branches, like carrion vultures, the group of petals glowered over the battlefield, merely waiting.
The Sableye merely stood there as the shadow ball rocketed toward his midsection, the diligent little petals however shoved it off course, but it still scraped his arm with a happy little gurgle. “Woe woe… shit…motherfuck--” Realizing others were watching the ghost type made as if to impersonate Houdini with a wonderful escape, but when he turned he found his trainer grinning, and that was enough to make him step forward again. “Chained into battle like some poor slave, I can feel the weight of the chain around my neck…” Roist allowed herself to fantasize about allowing him to feel the weight of a blade as well, but that was behavior for behind closed doors.
The Sableye found himself turning toward Enigma, when he spoke, the Sunflora did the same. The silence in between his breaths was almost palpable , it clung to the pokemon like a coat. The idea that the master had been trapped like the dirty rat he was often called was such an alien concept, even vengeance needed to take a back seat.
“Take care to pay more attention.” Enigma stated in an almost fatherly manner, smiling at the next set of words.
Didn’t this girl know anything about cats, or curiosity for that matter? What was he if not honest? “ I do not take kindly to orders, but will ignore the tone. To be frank, yes. I am an associate in the Pravus Corporation.” The gasp that emitted from three throats caused a cold stare to blanket the battlefield. “…..this would normally be the part where I , as the stereotypical evil mastermind, would now express the necessity to murder you. Which does not involve paying your medical bills, funeral costs mayhaps.” A finger slipped beneath his glove, tugging at the rim in an almost teasing manner.
Was he humming?
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( This post is complete shit. The ending is salvageable though, never had a chance to test his pokemon out before. People always run off....)
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Post by Samantha Morino on Jan 24, 2010 14:17:07 GMT -5
"I'm more of a ends person."
What was that supposed to mean? Perhaps the ‘end’ he was referring was his being an annoying ass, in which case Samantha could agree wholeheartedly with the statement. Doubting it, however, she took a leaf from Enigma’s book and didn’t bother wasting her breath. It was amazing how they could carry a conversation with his random odds and ends creating an unattractive fray of unfinished strings of speech for their threaded conversation. The boy was terrible at directness, dancing around words in a rather foolish way like the trained monkeys that ‘ruled’ Remoor but secretly scared out of their wits by the very mention of Pravus.
"It would work better with a Roserade; a Beedrill is only there to spread pollen, which in itself is a game of luck."
With the two females taking stabs and tearing at each other, the boy’s comment went unnoticed. It wasn’t a matter of who was right or wrong in the verbal (mostly) fight; it was a matter of who could hurt the other most, with only venomous words poisoning their thoughts. Of course, with things getting shrewder and shrewder with each retort, some assaults were below the belt…
"Sex is such a nasty little process, and for your information Miss Morino..."
Samanatha smirked unpleasantly, not out of any real enjoyment but the irony that a stubby Sunflora could teach her anything about the ‘nasty little process’ she mentioned. Off a hunch, any creature that got so much of a taste of her sour personality wouldn’t dare to get anywhere near Roist. Let alone get intimate. But, if the spindly little tramp wanted to play that way~
" Being a plant pokemon I do happen to have a gender, I am a sweet belle, and an ugly little toad like you would be lucky to get a stinger to the face, much less any time in bed.”
”A sweet belle? That’s a laugh. Not even a Beast would want anything from a ‘Belle’ like you.” she retorted, a staccato bark of laughter. That hag would be considered a sweet young female, just as soon as Samantha would join Pravus. It was amusing how Rosalie continued to try to glorify herself, creating a podium from which perhaps she could feel slightly less defective than she truly was. What had started as enjoyment of the Sunflora’s prickly attitude had so quickly switched gears to loathing. When two women of their personalities started rubbing opposite directions, however, this kind of thing was hardly not to be expected.
The end of the comment should have insulted her. And, it did. But feelings more indignant and offended should have been rising up, rather than the irritation at shaking off a particularly persistent bug. Samantha didn’t leave a lot of room in her life for anything, including love and what comes after. It was much simpler, no need to tie any knots when your life was tangled enough as it was. She rubbed one hanging arm with the opposite hand, perhaps perceived as agitation but really a lack of understanding, of her own feelings. When you shoved off any emotions that got in the way, it was quite a mess when they were even partly unearthed.
“Oh, I meant it darling. You mean your friend will attemp’ to make me a salad? But, I daresay I have wasted enough time with you, so I will leave your face further unmarked. I really couldn’t make you any less appealin‘. ”
”I don’t need to get the job done myself; There are much better hit men, and I’ve never been one for gardening. Duke may rip you up but rest assured, it’s with alllll my love~” at this point, she blew a rather obnoxious kiss in the plant’s direction. She might have hated the thing, but it was unusual to get up close and personal when you killed someone these days. It was much easier to merit and invitation to the funeral when the offending scarlet wasn’t soaked into your skin. Samantha, being naturally slightly wary, found Duke a reliable, loyal way to turn those fat leaves from their verdigris to charred ebony.
Further unmarked. It was hard to try to ignore the sliced skin, but seeming bothered by it would surely give Rosalie the leverage she was looking for. Gritting her teeth, she ignored any further remarks from Rosalie and instead unfastened a ball, whose lacquer had long worn off, covered in shallow grooves and the paint rubbed away till you could almost see the metal below. She looked fondly on it, fingers tightening around the sphere and a smile tugging at her lips at the thought of the equally vengeful animal just waiting to be released. The right moment – perhaps the next time Rosalie took an unfortunate face plant – and the gates of hell would seem to open for the ignitable Rosalie.
Lilith and Bastiodon exchanged a glance, unsure how to respond when their orders had been to battle this Rosalie, yet Samantha seemed to be the one doing most of the fighting… sort of. Perhaps they should try striking the plant when her attentions were so focused on their master? However, this might only make Samantha defensive. Something about ‘taking care of herself.’ They knew how she was. Instead, Bastiodon seemed fine with enjoying the feeling of the rain evaporating off his tough hide, the hues of blacks over his face, legs, and partial back lightening as the water gave up soaking into the stone-like material. With the few remaining raindrops sliding down under his big, baleful eyes it almost looked like he was crying.
Lilith, on the other hand, seemed more absorbed in the cat fight than the change in weather.
“The pig’s over there darlin’.”
Unsure whether to be offended or act like she hadn’t heard, Lilith settled for an attempt at a glower. It didn’t go too well, considering she had to first address Janx’s shadow ball, then turn to glare, Her beady eyes weren’t good at looking much more than wide and curious, but with Rosalie laughing at her for some odd reason before, Lilith wanted to make sure the plant knew she wasn’t any Spoink anymore. And she didn’t take no crap. Or something tough like that…
Lilith quickly noticed the slowly drifting petals seemed to suddenly spring to attention, creating formations and suddenly looking very pointed at the tip of their teardrop shapes. They rocketed through the air, moving towards her in a well-organized formation like fighter planes. She cringed instinctively, only to feel the pale petals shoot past her into the countered shadow ball, veering it off track so it mostly avoided Janx. Previously, their gentle movements curving through the air had been a nice touch to the false sense of peacefulness when the sun broke. Now they were deadly weapons, wielded by a manic flower whose thoughts and motions gave the petals their marching orders.
Bastiodon, on the other hand, was in too much trouble to consider the sudden change of events. Even with tiles of the psychic field still flanking their battlefield and reassuring him of newfound speed, these little hornets were hell bent on sacrificing themselves by pounding into his flesh. He darted to the right, slightly unstable with the change of velocity. It was an extremely strange feeling, this Trick Room. The petals weren’t rounding any corners, however. They cut straight through on the shortest path, closing the distance with each time the Bastiodon tried to dodge.
Perhaps Samantha would have had a set of orders for the creature that might help, but her attention was held firmly by the boy. Even his pokemon seemed captivated by how he would respond, which in hindsight was strange, based on their clear intensity (well, Roist atleast) to the battle. She raised any eyebrow expectantly, egging the boy to answer. “ I do not take kindly to orders, but will ignore the tone. To be frank, yes. I am an associate in the Pravus Corporation.”
Hm. Well, that simplified things. She expected almost immediate rage, but perhaps with the dislike she already had for the boy it only instilled her with a sense of calm. It was so damn easy, now. All the careful use of dodging questions and parrying her answers had made everything a complicated knot of insecurities, but with one deft tug everything was laid out clean before her. Previously, her emotions had fought for dominance over her, from insecurities to rage to perhaps even a bit of fear with the suspicion. The anarchy was over, however, and the bloodlust ruled strong.
A laugh, granted slightly higher and a little less sane than before.
”And here I was fretting over the repercussions of hurting some poor kid…” she barked aloud, not directly to the boy for once but letting the comment fall on any ears it pleased. Her arms wrapped behind her head, fingers knotting together, showing all signs pointing to a sudden at ease . The balancing card tower had just toppled, and Samantha knew his hand. Now it was only time to place bets. Adrenaline went into double time, like wildfire consuming her thoughts in giddy elation. She hadn’t gone looking for trouble, but most of her was thrilled she had found it.
“…..this would normally be the part where I , as the stereotypical evil mastermind, would now express the necessity to murder you. Which does not involve paying your medical bills, funeral costs mayhaps.”
”Ladies first~” she tittered, unlacing her arms and tossing Duke’s pokeball lightly in her palm. ”What do you think? Does ‘say your prayers’ or the simple elegance of ‘you’re dead’ seem to fit better? Perhaps something more heart-wrenching like, ‘I’ll give your family your best,’ but I doubt you’re a fan of that sappy movie script crap. Getting the picture?”
She wasn’t a princess to begin with, but was even more unpleasant when the sensation of a true fight rose on the horizon.
While Lilith and Enigma’s pokemon seemed more shocked than aggressive, Bastiodon still struggled against the petals. Several had landed a mark, cutting deep into his flesh with only the rounded pink ends sticking out like the feathers of fletched arrows. A few still chased him relentlessly, the pointless waste of energy would have to stop. The Bastiodon’s initial eagerness at trying out his new dominance of agility had quickly faded to be replaced with the unpleasant fear of the excruciatingly painful petals. His big shield like face was no good when their platoon was smart enough to go for his softer flesh.
Flames leapt through the air, devouring the remaining petals till nothing remained but falling cinders. Duke had returned, his large head thrown back and fire coursing through his mouth. Bastiodon stopped his charge, watching small amounts of ash join the more plentiful amounts on the ground. Duke’ fire stopped, his second action to find Rosalie with his narrowed eyes. Once he did, a wolfish smile crossed his broad muzzle. He always did love getting a new toy.
Stop the others from interfering… the bird’s our enemy too, now.
The thought passed to Lilith, who translated it to Bastiodon in turn.
”Duke, with me. Flamewheel.”
Samantha released her hold on the thick cream fur of his mane, as snapping flames twirled around him again. Samantha was running towards Enigma now, not even meeting his eye. They said the best way to kill someone was to only realize them as a set of bones, muscle, and organs working together. Not a being. A pulsing heart moving blood, not one moving people. No doubt Enigma would approve of such a cynical, straightforward view. He had bigger problems to worry about now.
Lilith and Bastiodon had a simple job right now, basically continuing what they were doing. Nevertheless, though it had never been said before, things could be easier or harder depending on who played the dirtiest. All binding of rules had broken, if Roist could have been considered to be following them to begin with. Lilith moved forward, hand trailing along the still-soaked ground and snowballing a large chunk of mud, which she flicked up towards Roist’s face when the distance closed to a certain extend before moving to the side, trying to juggle her attention between Janx and Innuendo. Bastiodon had large rocks hovering around him again, and sent them shooting forward at the preferably distracted Rosalie.
Duke’s post might have been with Samantha, but he couldn’t resist trying to give Roist a little tease. Besides, Samantha was so slow compared to him when he poured on the energy. He rushed onto the field, oblivious to the Trick Room formed. The effect was immediate, his body slowing down against his will with such a difference that his full out charge became the same speed as a comfortable trot. He whined in protest, straining to move forward faster but feeling trapped in molasses or some other sticky substance. While Lilith and Bastiodon could work better under the dimension, it was not meant for Duke to thrive in. The flames spun around his body at faster intervals than he could move forward ten paces. It was too late to go back, he realized, and once he found Rosalie again he realized he didn’t want to. Giving one last look at Samantha, he ‘charged’ towards Rosalie. It was Déjà vu, in slow motion.
One hand of Samantha’s reached out to grab the front of the boy’s collared shirt, the other curling into a fist. He might be a freak, but Samantha rationed that he’d lose a test of plain strength. Her plan stretched as far as hoisting him into the air by the front of his shirt (wrinkling it in the process, preferably. Why’d he have to look so damn sharp?!) and punching him straight in the nose. And they said improv was hard...
A pleasant wake-up call to the mistake of revealing his allegiance.
ooc; bleh.
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E.nigma
Pravus
The Apathethic Administrator[P:0]
Posts: 120
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Post by E.nigma on Jan 25, 2010 23:15:47 GMT -5
Enigma blinked owlishly, lips pursed as the fighting continued. Why did they insist on giving him a headache? Why did their insults lack any true logic, it was almost like watching animals fight on the discovery channel. Sadly, it was less bloody, and did not come with an easy explanation. Female psychology was something even the hybrid morph wished to avoid. ----------------------------------------------
Yellow face was shadowed for a moment, the flower's head turned toward the muddy ground, rain streaming down her face in a horrid mockery of hurt feelings. With a slow rocking motion she rose her sunshine yellow head up, and addressed Samantha with a thorny, honey smooth, retort. The rivulets trickling down her chin now resembled tears of laughter, the clouds parted to reveal the sun, the burning, deadly, hungry sun. " Unlike you, and Duke. I don't have sexual relations with animals, that's illegal in most civilized countries." The flower allowed her grin to slip back into place, and half debated a nice little montage with a Samantha impersonation followed by erratic, drawn out howls. Being that it was not very ladylike she decided against it, and settled for twining her leaf like hands together in an innocent manner. After a few more minutes she sang the below: "You humans have to get it where you can I suppose." The grin grew taut.
"What a wimpy, subjugated woman you are. Lettin' men have all the fun. I'd like to see that mutt try, especially after I lovingly tear your teeny little brain from your little skull." The flower opened her arm in a hug, and beckoned with a water splattered leaf. The water resembled blood, and for just a moment the ladylike smile turned into a maniacal grin. "Enough talking Sammy love, time to turn that doggy into plant food." The poke ball’s appearance was met with a shining lust in the Sunflora’s eyes, how fun it would be to sink thorns into that dogs hide, teach him how to beg, and rip that whining little muzzle off.
The Grumpig’s glower was brushed off with a chuckle, that little runt was nothing to worry about.
Each blood drop splattered across the petal’s virgin flesh was met with a pumped fist from the Sunflora, who had not moved from her former position. The flowers held her snared in place with little webs of control, binding her to the ground in a crucifix like pose.
The petals sitting upon the tree branch seemed to be whining, hopping to and fro like impatient children left out of the game.
“HAHAHAHAHA! You? Hurt him? Do you have any idea who your dealing with silly ranger? You really should try stand up, that stupidity could make you millions.” The Sunflora’s laughter was only outpaced in hostility by Enigma’s cold, quiet, chuckles. It was only outdone in insanity by Samantha’s bloodthirsty cawing. “If you backout now he might leave you a limb or two.”
Enigma was now smiling, he had found that thread almost humorous. Even in a fight to the death one could maintain manners, and he allowed Samanatha to finish before he spoke: “ I would prefer not to do this at all, disposing of bodies is menial labor outside of my job description. I am an atheist Ms. Marino, if you wish to back out now however I doubt your god would be offended.” It would never be said he had not given her a chance, the rough poke ball rolling about in her fingers was reflected in his golden eyes, the red mixing with the gold to produce something akin to flames. Who ever said he needed to hide the body? Why not have a little fun? With a resolute little tug one white glove fluttered to the ground revealing the appendage underneath.
Velvety fur the color of grass covered the hand, wrapping around the stumps of his two missing fingers. Long ebony claws splattered with flecks of gold stuck out from three fingers, their edges finely honed. The little digits were wrapped in little plates of metallic armor. I thought I told you to stop that? I will not warn you again. Enigma purred, eyes narrowing as Duke burst from his ball in a storm of flames. The white glove now hung in the air like a man at the gallows, it could easily have Samantha’s face on it. Kneeling down, seeming to pay no heed to Samantha’s charge, Enigma placed it into his vests pocket, turning a water streaked face toward Duke. The smile on his face was child-like, free of any malice, but his eyes were now something feral, a slit of hell-storm black tore them in half. The flames were warm on his face, his claws rolled around his pocket, grasped a cylinder, and allowed the worn out poke ball to drop to the ground . “ …physical violence is so demeaning.” The Pravus administrator sighed as the ball burst open with a flash of light, and a lanky arm shot out to intercept the arm currently clawing for his master’s shirt-front. The hand was positioned in the fabric, but a muscular hand reached out for her wrist, it could easily snap the bone underneath. In a voice more robotic than even his master the new combatant spoke: “Do not touch the Master.” A lanky creature glowered down at Samantha, red eyes flickering with rage. Awaiting orders the Gallade twisted toward his master, eyes questioning: “ I did not call you here to deal with something so trivial, go assist R.O.I.S.T.” A thin eyebrow raised, what could that little bundle of death need his help with? “ …stop her from tearing the mutt into too many pieces.” Eyes narrowing the Gallade shoved, rather gently, at Samantha before leaping toward the spot where the dog raced.
The entire battlefield quickly plotted itself out before him, muscles stretched as he flew through the air with the grace of a ballerina. A large foot the color of newly fell snow planted firmly on a flying stone, standing out in stark contrast against the muddy color, before he launched himself again. The Gallade gained altitude, set his eyes on Duke, and allowed himself to fall. Red, green, and white became indistinguishable as he landed with feet evenly spread. Blades were now crossed in front of his chest, he almost resembled a servant kneeling to a noble. The canine’s grin was met only with a pursed frown. “ HOOHAH! PARTY TIME NOW DUKEY YA SONUVABITCH! He called me ugly you know Thoist darlin‘.” No response. “ …threatened to burn me to a crisp.” Nothing. “ ……..growled at Master Niggy.” Legs glowing white the lanky creature shot forward , his left leg jackknifing at Duke’s head, a fist came around in an attempt to snap his muzzle, even as the right leg snapped out to cripple a tree trunk like leg.
No banter, no laughter, just cruel punishing blows aimed to end a battle quickly and surely.
The Sunflora rolled her shoulders, her right arm was still pinned to her side by the buzzing little petals nearby. The mud ball from earlier dripped from her face, and she twisted toward Lilith, it was time to remind her about the wolf and straw houses.
Soon. ---
Janx meanwhile merely stared at Enigma, and moved his gaze to Lilith. No one was attacking him, did he even have to do anything? Since Enigma was now serious was he off the hook, would he not be used as a battle-target anymore?
What if he was supposed to attack? What would happen then? "......." Things a lot worse than little hooves would enter his skull. Not wanting to face the piggy-fu master again, Janx retreated into the shadows, summoning a little ball of light, and allowed it to dance pixie-like about the pig's skull.
-----------------------
Enigma smiled, arm reaching out slowly toward Samantha. The creature that was formerly a Prravus member paused inches from her chest, before quietly murmuring: “But one does have to demean oneself, sometimes….” In an almost ironic manner the other glove flew to the ground in a mockery of a peace flag, even as a clawed hand darted out knife-like nails directed at her unmarred cheek. Isn’t this fun? I don’t even need my pokemon to take care of a cockroach like you, can we just go our separate ways? I have more important things to do than trounce the weak and foolish. The free hand gently smoothed out his wrinkled shirt front, the affront to his clothing was obviously much more offensive than that weak jab at his face.
[[…this is horrid…..I had a reply formulated.. but House came on, and I completely forgot what I was doing. I am also rather brain dead, yours was amazing I am sorry for this hogwash.]]
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Owl
New Member
Posts: 5
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Post by Owl on Feb 11, 2010 20:55:29 GMT -5
Samantha took a moment to wring thick, fat drops of rainwater out of her hair. The odd coloring of mahogany darkened when it soaked up the water, taking out the faint undertone of red and straightening itself somewhat. The drops spilled over her fingers, her hands methodically working the thicker strands as she moved her attentions away from the exertion of verbally sparring with the Sunflora. She might have seemed bored, or distracted, but her hands did seem a little rough tearing through any resistance they met in the locks.
" Unlike you, and Duke. I don't have sexual relations with animals, that's illegal in most civilized countries."
Her hands stopped for a moment, the continued as if nothing had happened. Samantha was reluctant to give the Sunflora more fodder to twist the knife any deeper than it was already lodged in the extremely small place where she could feel hurt by simple words. Undoubtedly the weakness came from being female – evolution didn’t have their sex butting heads till all the fun of verbal blows whittled away. She tried to keep her voice calm, but a slight waver clung to the slow, carefully enunciated words.
”Don’t be ridiculous. Pokemon are only animals; the very thought is appalling.”
Finding no further way to distract herself with the façade of being preoccupied with her hair, she looked first from the flower to the boy. Indeed, the ratio of non-human creatures to human weighed at many to one. She felt like she was speaking from a third person, with the lack of scathing retorts accompanying her objections. She would not let this plant get the better with her, and while there was very little to insult a weed with – honestly, it was like trying to put down a rock – she would always have the advantage of being the superior on the evolutionary scale.
"You humans have to get it where you can I suppose."
“Hardly. I’m not a sex-driven whore, contrary to yourself.”
So much for distancing herself. It was impossible to tolerate, might as well give up trying.
"What a wimpy, subjugated woman you are. Lettin' men have all the fun. I'd like to see that mutt try, especially after I lovingly tear your teeny little brain from your little skull."
Hahahahaha. The very thought of her standing in the kitchen with a frying pan in one hand and some obnoxious child in the other was so farfetched it struck as amusing. If the dog was the biggest macho pig in her life then things were on the right track.
“You’re all bark and no bite. Shut up so I can enjoy Duke showing you how it’s done.”
“HAHAHAHAHA! You? Hurt him? Do you have any idea who your dealing with silly ranger? You really should try stand up, that stupidity could make you millions.”
Silence. A hunch told her she was dealing with more than just a scrawny boy – perhaps a psycho, insane, sadistic scrawny boy, but she needed no reminding that she wasn’t dealing with what she saw on the outside. And of course, no reminder was needed that the Sunflora was an antagonizing bitch who insulted her intelligence while she flopped around in the mud. “ I would prefer not to do this at all, disposing of bodies is menial labor outside of my job description. I am an atheist Ms. Marino, if you wish to back out now however I doubt your god would be offended.”
Why did the boy keep thinking she was some kind of religious fanatic? Sure, she’d like him to roast in hell as much as the next guy but religion was much too restraining of a code that she chose to ignore its presence completely, much like she did with other rules that got in her way. Her eyes were piercing, cold and furious at the boy’s arrogance that he could lay so much as a scratch on her. The fact that his plant succeeded was enough of a warning. She wouldn’t back out now; if there was any sort of religious icon she adored, it’d be the rangers. And, while they were nonviolent sissies, she liked to think they actually appreciated her sweeping up the vermin that left their hidden nest.
That claw. It was disgusting, unnatural. The color of radioactive slop, with each thick finger tipped with a knifelike edge. Well, this was unfair.
Being at a disadvantage had never stopped her before.
Her fingers knotted into his shirt, the other hand’s fingers curling into a fist and pulling back, prepped to punch. The arrival of a new member put everything on pause, however. A slim, streamlined arm moved to intercept, grabbing her wrist while her fingers still lay tangled in the previously pristine and pressed shirt.
“Do not touch the Master.”
Even from the Gallade’s warning grip, Samantha could feel that the Gallade wasn’t full of the same empty threats as his master and copokemon. The Gallade meant business, and with no intention of having her arm broken this early in the game she slowly removed her fingers, preferring to ignore Enigma’s bodyguard and rather focus her frustration in hating every cocky feature of his smug face. Duke hadn’t come, and by now Samantha realized that the canine had launched himself into battle, the fool. With the tall psychic type flanking Enigma, it’d be hard to turn his face into pulp.
The Gallade didn’t stick around to chat, however. His movements were graceful, but Gallade were naturally speedy creatures; it was more like a slow-motion action sequence under the effects of Trick Room. Bastiodon was the first to notice, with the green and white creature using one of the rocks hurling towards Roist as a leverage. The Bastiodon estimated the travel of the miniature avalanche rocking through the air, but could only hope it would meet it’s target, the Sunflora. He could only watch for now.
Duke’s ears were flat against his head, fur all over his body bristling. Thoist was almost a more unwelcome sight than that plant, another male who might threaten his position as alpha. The Gallade wasn’t one of many words, and sprang into action immediately. A leg shot out towards Duke’s head, but a quick duck let the kick sail over. The force of the kick made the hairs on the top of Duke’s head waver from the close call. As the second appendage crashed towards his muzzle, Duke need not think too hard. Jaws parting, he looked to clamp down on anything and everything that got too close. His body was a writhing mass of flaming fur, eyes bulging with intensity. A blow landed to his leg, but adrenaline met pain and outclassed it, at least for now. The leg was slightly slower, but with the way the dog snapped at everything – with small tongues of flame accompanying it – made him dangerous enough even with one leg throbbing.
Suddenly, a hulking frame broke the fight between the two. The Bastiodon’s face showed nothing, much like Thoist’s own emotionless barrage. Somber eyes looked over the Gallade again, turning slowly to face him. The panels of the trick room were starting to fade, giving him only a few more moves to get the upper hand. The advantage was the Bastiodons, for now. He turned slowly, facing the Gallade, and nodded in perhaps a greeting. Then, the great panel of his face began to glow again and he thrust his head forward, determined to break every bone in the psychic’s body if he had to. Speed was in limited supply, and he’d have to reap the rewards now.
Samantha watched the claw’s movements, almost mesmerized. She seemed oblivious to everything around her, fully occupied by the monster before her. The hand moved lightning fast, but one scar was enough. Her head jerked back, her legs soon to take her back a pace till they were within the usual sparring distance. She felt almost a ghost of the claw, coming so close to her face in an unnatural heaping of claws and fur. Well, if he had a set of blades…
It was a pathetic thing, really. Barely over two inches of a blade and more intended for use cutting through rope, or a cooking utensil. The Swiss Army knife was drawn from her pocket, hardly allowed to get a firm grip in her hand before being stabbed out towards the boy’s fur-covered palm. It wasn’t playing fair.
Samantha didn’t play fair.
ooc; ugh. I'd just like to forget I ever wrote this, kthxbai. Leaving on a plane for vacation for the next week, plane's in a couple of hours, I've been horrible about planning the reply out and... you get this. My apologies. D: If it's not good enough to work with, I'll try to find a computer where I'm going and edit. (:
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Feather
Administrator
[P:0]
Posts: 513
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Post by Feather on Feb 15, 2010 22:25:23 GMT -5
The Sunflora watched the girl's fingers ply a path through her moist locks. Water ran down Samantha's hair, coating her fingers, and dripping to the ground in steady little streams. Now why wasn't she allowed to open her blood vessels, and allow the crimson liquid to follow suit? Her trainer was so boring sometimes. The lack of attention allowed the Sunflora's thinking to drift. Did that little hooker know he was pampering locks of dead skin? Why did humans care so much for hair? It was nothing more than your body's vomit, squeezed out of holes in your head like meat through a grinder. Humans sprayed it, cut it, sang to it, and dyed it to compliment their eyes. You would never see a tree dye their dead leaves, no self-respecting plant would do such a silly, useless, thing.
A single "hand" trailed along her own singed petals, her face slowly contorted. Unlike humans though, her body did not vomit up new helmets, hers were hand grown by nature. The hands stopped, the narrowed eyes drifted to the girl’s moist lips, they remained closed, and the hands resumed their gentle movements. “Humans are animals too sweetheart, so I suggest you jump off that high-horse. Duke would probably find the idea of mating with an ape pretty insulting as well.” The plant follows the girl’s eyes back toward her master. She really needed to pay attention, it was almost rude enough to tear those eyes out for. When the next barb came the Sunflora tilted her head to side, laid her hands on her hips, and raised an eyebrow. “ …..you just keep contradicting yourself darlin’ , and what makes ya think I’m a whore? I actually got near enough to touch a man befo‘ ?” The Sunflora was finding it hard to insult this girl as well. It was almost not fun anymore. When was the punching going to start? What would she have to say to get this lass to crack? What was worse than bestiality?
--
When Samantha turned toward him, Enigma blinked. Was she wondering if she was offending him? Was she trying to? Sometimes it was so hard to tell.
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“No, your boyfriend is all bark and no bite. Your face sting?” The sun flora purred the last part, eyes widening in mock concern. Who had slapped who? Which one was standing on a pile of rain covered garbage barking out insults like some sort of scared child? It was not her. “ Oh ho~ what’s the big bad puppy going to show me how to do? Roll over, lay down, and beg? You’re probably much better at it.” Though seemingly non-chalant, her body was still positioned with hands akimbo, her voice seemed to quiver with excitement. Wasn’t this what she was waiting for? Surely the petal dance’s effect would wear off by then, and she could sing a nice little ditty with that mutt’s howls of pain.
The petals atop that branch continued to dance, their excitement growing with the Sunflora’s.
Silence caused her to smile. Little bitch had no idea what she was doing with, and the master was giving her a chance.
Not that she was smart enough to take it.
With a giant dog charging toward her, and her man descending from the skies she had no room to watch though. Turning toward the Arcanine she watched as a streak of white rocketed toward Duke’s open jaws.
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The Gallade could feel his movements slow, could practically see the air rippling around his body as if he was a stone skipping across the water. The Gallade focused on the hound below, crimson eyes did not even register the pig, or the giant hunkering shield nearby.
The first kick breezed over the canine’s head, the second flew toward his mouth, where it was promptly lodged. Flames licked at its onion like skin, but the Gallade made no noise. The only indication of pain was the narrowing of his pupils, and the wild jig they began to dance. Hungry little fangs of flame chewed at his muscular arm, his fingers twitched , brushing moist flesh, the ivory knives tore into his skin. The third kick smashed into the canine’s leg, he could feel its posture change, could see the tension and pain surging up its spine.
The fighting type’s breathing was slow, his red eyes focusing on the Arcanine’s fiery ones. The leg drew back toward him, leaving the Gallade in an awkward kneel. The arm was still lodged in Duke’s jaws, his face levied back and up to avoid blisters from the flames.
The ground rumbled beneath his large feet, and the psychic type broke eye contact with Duke, turning to face the solemn face of the shield creature. The movement was amplified with a series of waves, his movements were sluggish, the Bastiodon’s were not. Instead of jumping over, or ahead of the charge, the Gallade leaned back, and gave his arm a powerful pull.
A large platelike food smashed into an area above his left leg.
The normally graceful creature stumbled backward into the Sunflora, hoping to pull the Arcanine with him. Like a choking dog on a leash, a very meaty, enticing leash. Weren’t Arcanine’s like pitbulls? The free hand glowed purple, even as a pair of vines wrapped around his torso.
A knife of night cut the air, a shimmering ebony blade streamed toward the Bastiodon.
---
The smell of mint and rotting vegetation swept over him. A large yellow sun blotted his vision, a smile greeted his eyes. A voice seductively whispered one word: “ ……” It was lost to the Gallade as a thunder like crack tore the clearing and a handful of little pink petals floated out from the forest nearby.
The sound echoed, it was loud, angry, and resembled a large bone snapping.
The tree was now visible, it moaned as it tilted and fell. It screamed in pain, the Sunflora, now in front of him chuckled.
What had she said?
The effects of trick room served to amplify the movement as two thick vines shot out from the Sunflora’s narrow frame, and shot toward the dying forest behemoth. They sinuously embraced the rough trunk, and the plant type continued to laugh.
With a scream of effort she pulled back, the trunk flying through the air, the kinetic waves coming from it greeted him like a tidal wave, the tree began to spin, the tree lowered, the plant type let go.
A giant battering ram came toward the fighting Pokemon with a smell of pine, and the rustling of leaves.
What was it she said?
The Gallade hit the floor, not caring about his assaulted arm, and watched the tree approach.
The vines snapped, and the tree fell, threatening to splatter everyone in its path.
Why was his teammate so insane? Why hadn’t she said “duck” earlier?
Another vine wrapped around the tree, twisting it so it was tilted toward the Bastiodon, and inches away from the smoking mouth of the Arcanine.
( ..wow this made no sense…I am so sorry. Basically, she cut down a tree. Grabbed the trunk, and pulled it into the battlefield like a giant arrow, hoping to squish Duke or the Bastiodon.)
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The appearance of a giant tree managed to distract even Enigma. Tilting his head to watch it’s descent he barely registered the “swish” of an armed blade. The cut it made across his palm however he did register. Legs rippling, fabric threatening to tear, he jumped away from Samantha and growled.
Growled.
“ …that was rude…and hurt.”
Pain was rather foreign to him since the war had ended. It was almost taboo.
Golden eyes briefly lit up blue, the knife in Samantha’s hands began to take on the same glow. The Pravus member jerked his bleeding hand, the ground was now covered in rose colored drops, and hopefully a knife.
“….bitch.”
Enigma was swearing, and angry.
Not only had she scratched his palm, but had made him ruin his pants.
The girl was now worth tearing to pieces.
(...eeew...mine is wayyyyyy worse than yours.)
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Owl
New Member
Posts: 5
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Post by Owl on Mar 7, 2010 21:28:51 GMT -5
The Sunflora was a stubborn, cruel wench with a naïve face but no heart – metaphorically or literally. It had earned a grudging respect from Samantha, with its biting tongue and strong personality. The kind of respect Samantha proffered, however, was probably close to the kind that assassins felt when cutting down world leaders. A respect for something that they could never like, nor tolerate to the point that the two went at eachother’s throats. After all, most enemies had some sort of grudging acknowledgement of their adversary’s capabilities; otherwise, one would refuse to acknowledge the other as an enemy in the first place. Samantha looked down upon most everyone, but she could see herself getting along with the prickly plant had it been some alternate universe where the creature hadn’t been pitted against her in this way.
Perhaps this was where some of her anger for Pravus took its fodder. The organization didn’t acknowledge the Ranger’s cause or efforts, treating them like a parasite – no, something less harmful, a fly – rather than an opponent. Being ignored, or looked down upon, was something that Samantha was supposed to exude to others, not vice versa.
“ …..you just keep contradicting yourself darlin’ , and what makes ya think I’m a whore? I actually got near enough to touch a man befo‘ ?”
”’dunno… do the sick fantasies in your head count?”
Even with her thoughts wandering, the snappy clipped comment came naturally as though her scathing tongue was on autopilot. She brushed away the notion that her statements had been hypocritical, instead choosing to go with the fact that the flower, like her master, was being much too literal once again. Her lip curled unattractively into a snarl, a grin forcing its way in as well simultaneously. For only a moment, the unpleasant and quite unladylike expression bore down on the pathetic, narrow sapling before it disappeared, replaced with cool indifference and the slight uplifted tilt to her chin. The boy might have his monstrosity sewn into his DNA, but all humans could exhibit a similar savage ferocity.
“No, your boyfriend is all bark and no bite. Your face sting?”
If Duke hadn’t been tangled in a mass of limbs with his Gallade adversary, he would have taken quite some offense at the statement. Samantha, though she flinched internally, held her stance of carefree coolness.
“It’s a nice reminder I don’t have to play fair with a witch like you,” she admitted, her fingers itching to touch the throbbing crevice slashed into her cheek. The way the Sunflora regarded Duke as her boyfriend was repulsive and wrong, but any attempts to deny it would be eagerly used by the weed as fodder.
“ Oh ho~ what’s the big bad puppy going to show me how to do? Roll over, lay down, and beg? You’re probably much better at it.”
Fury was a common passer over Samantha’s face, but this time it seemed as though she was ready to leap for the Sunflora herself.
”Lillith!” she spat, “Teach the wench some manners; or just kill it. Whatever. Psychic, now.”
The little psychic’s attention was drawn again to that horrible, grinning Sunflora. Though she seemed hesitant to conjure the pale purple aura around her rather plump frame, once it did it consumed her features like a glowing, psychic plague. The aura spread to her eyes, whiting out the dark irises and giving the appearance that the pig had been temporarily possessed by her own psychic energy. Samantha seemed happy to play the puppet master, waiting till the purple essence tried to spread from the Grumpig to the Sunflora before issuing another sharp command.
As the sapling had so kindly pointed out earlier, Rosalie was a living, breathing animal more than a plant. “Choke it,” she snarled. The psychic energy surged, trying to force its way around the plant’s body and cut off the stream of air that gave the plant the oxygen to coax out such poisoned words that had ruffled Samantha.
The battle was too fast for the slow eyes of Bastiodon or Samantha to follow, but Duke’s efforts were too frenzied to take notice. Each crushing kick or punch the Gallade threw had be to dodged, or taken but then retaliated with an even more unpleasantly painful move. They had no beef personally, but the snarling, snapping, and clawing would seem to say otherwise. Though one leg had gone blissfully numb, the other three limbs worked double-time to keep the advantage. Every hair on the tiger-patterned hide of him was on end, bristled. His jaw clenched over anything and everything, muzzle wrinkled in concentration even as the first smell of blood – his or the gallade’s – penetrated his nose.
Their battle initially disrupted by the Bastiodon, all three pairs of eyes turned towards Rosalie, or rather what the maniacal plant was doing. The tree groaned in protest, but with a deft yank the old thing had been plucked from the ground as daintily as if it were a daisy. Then it turned towards the trio.
Baatiodon’s instincts told him to abandon the current conflict and focus on not getting crushed. Even as his plated feet backpedalled out of the tree’s straight-as-an-arrow path, a spattering of branches and leaves teased his face on their way by. Duke, however, was less fortunate. The hell bent need to not led go of any traction he had earned from the fierce struggle with the Gallade. He broke away at the last second…
…only to be smashed by the tree, sent flying back several feet before the tree caught up to him once again and landed across his lower body.
The unearthly howl of pain made the hairs on the back of Samantha’s neck rise, and – swearing Enigma or not – she looked away even as her only weapon made a splashdown in a crimson pool. ”Duke!”
Fragments of dust and leaves had created a concealing cloud over from where the howl had came from, but as all the debris began to settle the faint, canine-outline of Duke came clear. The tree was bearing down on the last third of his body, his injured leg protected by the good one sandwhiched between it and the tree but still bearing the giant’s great weight. His breathing had become rapid, only starting to register what had really happened. He thrashed violently, expending energy even as every movement made him see stars. When his thrashing did little to help his situation, the flames searched for any source possible. Friend and foe alike could fall victim to the scorching, cackling flames. A single pillar came frighteningly close to Samantha, confirming her suspicions that the dog had become maddened by the sudden pain.
“Duke!” She repeated the word that had slipped out only a few moments earlier when she heard his howl. The flames subsided, but the creature did not turn to look at her. His breathing was labored, mouth and nose still spewing smoke. “Burn the tree,” she advised, dark eyes caught with a mix of worry and fear.
The fire spread slowly at first. The outside bark of the tree was still damp from the recent rain, after all. Inside, however, the flames had a field day. The dry bark was riddled with oxygenated holes from various insects digging into the dying behemoth, and soon the whole tree was alight with flames.
Like a forest fire. Or a funeral pyre…
The thought shocked Samantha out of her dazed distraction, her mind already years back to a completely different time. No, she had to stay in the present. The tree, with a sound like a gunshot, snapped over Duke’s body. He half dragged himself forward, one hind leg trying to contribute but only making him wince every other step.
As though determined to contribute to the destruction, the sliding panels representing the boundaries of the Trick Room halted, shuddering. After the first one led the way with a shattering explosion of immaterial energy, the rest of the panels likewise combusted, fading away till nothing remained of the altered dimension.
Her.
That plant.
It didn’t matter he only had three legs. It didn’t matter that going at the same rate he had been before would tear him from the inside out. In a second, he had moved from stationary to a blur. The pain blinded him; he didn’t need sight, he could smell her. The choice of fight or flight had crossed his now purely instinctive mind, and their had been no question what he would choose. The throat. That was the best part. One bear-like paw reached for the Sunflora, hoping to knock her senseless or pull her down before ivories, their hue clouded by smoke, snapped out, reaching for her neck to wring her out like a rag doll.
Bastiodon, not wanting the Gallade to get another go at Duke, conjured another mass of wildly sparking electricity. The Thunder moved much more erratically than it had before, its path not as laid out for it as it had been before by the rain. Even as it jaggedly formed a path in the air, shooting towards the Gallade, stray sparks veered off in other directions before dissipating. The main chunk of thunder roared onwards.
“ …that was rude…and hurt.”
Samantha didn’t know what she had expected if her attempt had succeeded. Perhaps she thought foolishly that the boy bled blue or something preposterous. She wasn’t weak of heart, but the sight of the carmine liquid released from her move made her give more pause than the sudden throaty growl that Enigma emitted. A horrible mass of choppily spliced DNA… or a ten year old boy? The claw had made it so easy, just as how it was easy to send her pokemon ruthlessly after those of other’s. Ugh, she didn’t have time for some feminine emotion nonsense!
“….bitch.”
She was thankful for the words; they were a very good cue. The boy had jumped back after the knife had dug into the fur covered flesh, but if he thought the distance would save him he was sorely mistaken. A few steps forward as a prep and her leg knifed upwards, aiming to catch the boy under the chin with the instep of her boots. It was time to jar herself back to reality.
Or face the increasingly unpleasant consequences.
ooc; gawd. I have no idea where this is gonna go with Samantha going all suicidal on Enigma and his band of sadistic helpers. D: Maybe we should plan a resolution before I hafta kill her off in her first debut. xD
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E.nigma
Pravus
The Apathethic Administrator[P:0]
Posts: 120
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Post by E.nigma on Mar 8, 2010 21:23:49 GMT -5
Was it just her, or did that tone have the dentured bite of teenage sarcasm, with just a hint of desperation? The uncivilized marriage of "don't" and "know" grated on the Sunflora's "ears", and she wrinkled her mouth in distaste. The taste of city and funk gone from her mouth she allowed herself to smile, and offer a reply. The grin was now cemented to her face, and she ended with a friendly shrug. "Sadly, most of my fantasies don't involve men, but tearing off the faces of uppity little upstarts who have grown a bit too large for their girdles, or whatever they wear underneath those jeans now'a'days." Unlike Samantha though, she no longer felt respect for the girl. All of the words grated on her, and this dimension or the next, she would remember them.
With baited breath and sharpened thorns. The snarl was met with a victorious smirk, when humans started to bear their teeth, all of their intellect and patience, what little there was to begin with, was slowly wearing away. Not one to stop when she was ahead, or to stop at all, Roist continued: "Don't make a face like that, it makes you even uglier dear." The original comment had involved Duke, hardening, and panting, but it was not even worth it with the verbal victory, seemingly, in her side of the court. Not to mention, it would ruin her lady like image, most of her insults had been on the tea-party side of vague, saying something like that would make her appear a complete savage there were enough of those around. "Oh, if you played fair, you'd still lose." The witch comment would go unpunished, it was sometimes required to allow the little people a good vent after all.
The Sunflora yawned, taking the opportunity to pat her mouth with a delicate leaf. That little wench would find herself fertilizer if she tried to lay so much as a dirt-encrusted nail clipping on her. Though, she would feel bad for the poor roots forced to partake in that feast. "Finally.. some action...oh no...the little piggy wants to make me go "wee" wee" Weeee" ..much like Sammy does in her bedroom..." Oddly enough, the plant type didn't move, the act of holding up those gleeful petals was tiring, and it was a bit cowardly to step out of the wat, robbing Samantha of her "revenge".
The plant watched as the pig glowed purple, what a slow process this was. It was rather boring compared to fighting with her brothers, they were cannons, ready to strike at any moment, and she had to sit here and twiddle her stems while Porky here warmed up. The plant began to whistle an upbeat tune, even as the purple fog enveloped her. A cool hand wrapped around her midsection, tightening its grip, and sending fog splattering off like blood. The plant type began to gag and choke, a viscous fluid spurted from her mouth, the fog helped discern her movements as she took a few hops forward, and spread her arms wide. “LORDY LOU IT’S A GOD DAMNED MIRACLE! I CAN LIVE WITHOUT BREATHING! THANK YOU LORD, THANK YOU! I WILL ATTEND THOSE SERMONS! I AM FREE AT LAST! FREE FROM THE CHOKIN’ HAND OF SATAN AND HIS COUNTERPARTS! Mostly because I am a plant, and breath through my skin you dumb bitch. “ Nearby, Enigma had started by grimacing, the religious sermon was harmful to his ears, the last comment drew a small smile, and he almost gave the word for “breathing through the skin”. The Sunflora was not finished however, and attacked through gritted teeth. A nasty fluid was being pulped from her stem from the psychic’s grip, but even if it didn’t have the intended effects, it still stung like a bitch.
The leaves that ricocheted through the air were poorly aimed, and weaker than normal. The Gallade in front of her was too busy rolling around, in a rather sensual way, with Duke to assist her. The little crescent’s of bladed foliage attempted to break the Grumpig’s concentration, and distract her from the tree.
Which, the Sunflora could only hope she would be protected from, all of that “brethren of the forest” crap was bullshit. The freight-tree would not stop because she lifted her hands and called to its finer sensibilities, she had killed it after all. ---- The Gallade resembled some sort of emaciated Gladiator as he battled the lion-dog. Long limbs darted beneath slashing claws, thin fingers grasping and bruising whatever they could. Every body part became a finally honed weapon, deadly teeth repeatedly caught on his bleeding, injured, arm. Kicks hoped to crack ribs, and red eyes stared without anger at Duke. It was just work, if it became emotional, he was not good at it.
The fighting type sighed in relief when the Arcanine released him, thick branches scraped his skull as the tree hit ground zero, and a few toes lay beneath the tree’s rough bark. The sharp tang of blood filled the air, and the Gallade turned toward the bleeding canine, something in him stirred. Though he was all for killing someone in the shadows, employing nature to destroy others was a bit more underhanded than he was used to. A purple scythe grew from his arm, the bleeding one was now cradled to his thin chest, and the tree was soon chopped into bits. The foot was pried loose.
The Sunflora began to laugh, and continued to do so. “What happened to the fire Dukey? Tree got your tongue, or fracture your hip?” The plant waited for the cloud of debris to clear, practically giddy with anticipation.
Enigma wrinkled his nose as the scent of blood filled the clearing, and did not even bother to acknowledge the menial task of disarming Mrs. Morino. The sting on his palm reminded him of the situation though, and he let out a single cough. “Those with fewer…morals…than I, would have sunk that little blade in between your shoulders..” The Pravus member disliked being ignored, his words were buoyed by an unheard growl. Flames streamed past his shoulder, a warm air brushed his cheek. “Control your dog.” It would not be good to burn down a forest, especially one so full of useful resources. The administrator watched the sky light up in the shades of a furnace, wondering at the temperature of the flames, and physiological consequences of being splattered by a tree.
--
The Sunflora opened her arms in a hug, watching as the dog headed toward her, trying to ignore the flame that threatened to consume her skull. It would go out, it was time to meet the flames. The hound surged forward, little more than a blur on her retina, she stiffened, and hunkered low. A large paw reached for her skull, a white hand was knocked aside with a moan and a bolt of errant lightning, and the Sunflora danced right into the dangerous embrace, a glowing seed in hand. Reaching out, in an almost friendly gesture, she attempted to bury the writhing seed in Duke’s flaming jowls.
The Gallade was knocked aside by the lightning, he sparked even as he rolled back to his feet. A hand reached out , hesitantly, toward the Snflora, only for it to turn toward the Bastiodon. A soldier had to adjust orders, and he could not remain the plant’s crutch and win the day.
---
All Pravus members had training in martial arts, Enigma was now exception. Dancing away from the leg, he sent his own darting toward the girl’s remaining pillar. “ …this grows…boring..” One pokemon of hers was crippled, infuriated, but nothing more than an engine running on rage. The other two were of little consequence.
Eyes glowed blue, and smoke began to hiss from his vest and jacket, it snapped with energy. “ …almost done..”
It was at that moment that the sounds of a classical concerto echoed across the clearing, and the blue-tooth in Enigma’s ear began to beep.
Modern technology, it ruined fun, but also provided distractions. Ducking to avoid any retaliation the Pravus administrator maneuvered to remove the thin phone from his pocket.
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Post by Samantha Morino on Mar 22, 2010 21:00:04 GMT -5
The Sunflora looked like there was bitter taste in her mouth, the wrinkled dislike playing across her wide head seeming more fitting of character for the wench. With Sunflora not being the most common commodity in Remoor, Rosalie had successfully tainted any hope for a positive connotation of Sunflora in Samantha’s subconscious. The large, fat face; the two eyes stretched into happy curves; the arrangement of petals like cheerful sunbeams; the focus naturally shifted to the unpleasant. The shadows cast over her head. Every nick in the petal. The sickening way she caressed herself with long, narrow leaves.
Samantha’s mind was like a never-ending movie reel, spinning on the same infuriated loathing rather than focusing on what her true priority was.
"Sadly, most of my fantasies don't involve men, but tearing off the faces of uppity little upstarts who have grown a bit too large for their girdles, or whatever they wear underneath those jeans now'a'days."
Oh, and another thing; the way the creature talked, the southern drawl and the way she swooned for Enigma’s male pokemon. She rapped on Samantha for being a subjugated women when she herself turned to putty for any chance of male recognition yet had such a biting ferocity for Samantha. Though the Sunflora’s last comment seemed directed at her – but with that archaic metaphor, who would know? – Samantha didn’t think it merited an answer. Perhaps the flower hadn’t realized that she was head bitch of a merry band of misfits, and it was quite hard to take Rosalie seriously when most of their lot had to stand on tiptoe to reach her abdomen. The throbbing cheek warned her otherwise, but the images her brain received told her that a plant had just threatened to rip her face off and something along the lines of "yeah, riiight".
"Don't make a face like that, it makes you even uglier dear."
”You wouldn’t be one to talk about ugly faces, with yours being the size a watermelon and that idiotic, dopey expression you carry around.” she snapped back, words coming naturally even with her thoughts elsewhere.
She shouldn’t have, but she did anyways.
Samantha fell into a quiet sulk as Lilith stepped to the plate to have a go. Even as the purple aura enveloped Rosalie, the plant put on airs trying to seem nonchalant about it all. What Samantha wanted to see now was that expression slide away slowly, falling off her face to be replaced with perhaps the tangled insecurities and doubts and confusion. Then fear, the truly filling emotion that would warm Samantha’s frigid heart to see. And then, of course, the lights winking out. That was always the least interesting, over with rather fast, but Samantha was no sadist; she did not administer revenge, only a deadly verdict. The Sunflora seemed to transition into this cycle for a moment, before the crawling traces of dread were laced into Samantha’s mind from the Sunflora’s melodramatic behavior. Liquid spilled over the Sunflora’s mouth mouth, hissing when it reached the halo of light around the Grumpig’s arm as though demanding entry. After the rather gross display, the Sunflora hopped forward. Traces of the fluid dribbled unhappily to the ground, for now repelled by the psychic energy.
“LORDY LOU IT’S A GOD DAMNED MIRACLE! I CAN LIVE WITHOUT BREATHING! THANK YOU LORD, THANK YOU! I WILL ATTEND THOSE SERMONS! I AM FREE AT LAST! FREE FROM THE CHOKIN’ HAND OF SATAN AND HIS COUNTERPARTS! Mostly because I am a plant, and breath through my skin you dumb bitch.”
Fuck this. Samantha’s mind reached out to Lilith’s own, which was almost completely blank from the possessed quality the Grumpig had donned. Samantha’s commands were carried out almost simultaneously with the pig’s actions, her thoughts flowing directly into the pig’s as though they were Lilith’s own. The aura consuming her eyes allowed now emotion to soak through as the psychic energy started to travel, moving beyond Lilith’s outstretched arm [which had wisely let go after more of the liquid began pumping its way out of the Sunflora] to the plant’s body. The energy tried swarming upward, twisting and intertwining in a mad race to reach the Sunflora’s mouth. To cure a bad mouth, many advised cleansing the mouth with soap, metaphorically. Samantha had decided fill this particular bigmouth with Liltih’s psychic energy, which seemed unaffected by things like acid. Though the purple essence behaved like a living, writhing mass it was really only energy, after all. It attempted to force entry into the Sunflora’s big mouth, driven by Lilith’s demands at it to wreak havoc from the inside out. Perhaps, once the psychic energies settled inside, they’d expand till Rosalie’s bloated head exploded. It would be good to deflate that girl’s ego. A flicker of guilt for using Lilith in such a way piped up in the back of Samantha’s mind, but with the great amounts of psychic energy being vented, Lilith’s innocence would be the least of her problems.
Samantha wasn’t fit to become the kind of person she’d like to be; a crusader who would mow down Pravus members, openly and boldly. Something like the Red Baron, who would fly a scarlet plane around and was hailed as a hero for his incredible hit count. The difference, perhaps, was the enjoyment. The best killers in the world usually enjoyed their position, while Samantha found death and murder detestable. A clash of her extremist morals and the disgust of criminal activity raged a constant battle in her mind. How could she be so inspired to make the boy as dead as a doornail when she hated his organization for the murders and chaos they committed? That’s why it was so much easier to let flaring emotions take over, even as the brash attempts to end lives would later brew feelings of self loathing.
Ugh. The bitch-plant had it easy; being unprincipled and sadistic made it very easy to fit into your stereotypical, and, more importantly, purely evil role.
The psychic energy flowing from Lilith had perhaps reached the point of creating havoc when the leaves sliced across Lilith’s frame. The energy faded suddenly, just as suddenly as the leaves seemed to appear and leave their mark on Lilith. A squeal of pain introduced Liltih’s return to reality, the psychic energy dissipating away. Before the blinking, bleary Lilith could full rise to her senses, however, a red beam reached out and consumed her body with its carmine contents. Lilith was sucked back into her pokeball, before fatigue – and perhaps horror – could catch up to her.
Duke didn’t seem thankful at the Gallade’s assistance, snarling at him in thanks before charging off towards his true target. Taunts fell on deaf ears, or rather, were not absorbed but rather zeroed in on like sound-activated alarms. The Sunflora’s laughing only bolstered each excruciating lunge, every sense hypersensitive to every inch the Sunflora moved.
The seed that was thrust forward might have been an issue. Just like the huge tree crushing his hindquarters might have been an issue. However, such petty nuisances could not even begin to compare to the big goal. The big bone, his revenge, was waiting right in front of him an no seed would get in his way. The inside of his jaw was already a furnace, but lightning mixed in with the intense head and traveled along his teeth. The lightning spread to the seed, and mixed with the heat the seed had little hope of surviving. Even if it did, the torrent of flame gushing out of his parted jaws would force it right back out. In Duke’s mind, it was time for the plant to understand her position; absolutely fucked.
“Those with fewer…morals…than I, would have sunk that little blade in between your shoulders..”
”You? Morals? Don’t make me laugh.” Ssmantha seethed, not sounding close to laughing at all. Tension froze her body into a sculpted fighting pose, dismay at losing her weapon thrown aside just as easily as the weapon itself had slid from her grasp.
“Control your dog.”
Worry mingled in with the emotional hurricane, the mention of Duke tempting her to glance back at the old hound. With one pokemon down for the count and the other with only Rosalie’s crispy fate left on his bucket list, Samantha was pushed to consider whether she might be losing the fight. She balked against the idea, forcing her attentions only to the boy. A leg snapped down towards Samantha’s own, Samantha forced to use her arm to block the blow. The jarring impact hurt like hell and would no doubt leave an ugly bruise, but was hardly bone-breaking.
For a moment, Samantha’s had the strange thought that some of Duke’s flames must have lit the boy’s midriff on fire. It snapped and cackled like it, in the least. Smoke was soon to follow, fortifying the ‘what the hell is that?!’ expression on Samantha’s face. This boy was a Pandora’s box of unpleasant surprises.
Classical music hardly fit into the scene at all. It blared out, forcing attention not by volume but by how it clashed so distinctly with the sounds of battle ringing violently around them. Samantha was momentarily dubious at the boy, who calmly removed himself from their clash to pull out a phone. Attention was, for the first time, brought to the blue tooth in the boy’s ear. How cute – wasn’t he just a little businessman?
”Tell your mother you’re busy.” she snarled, taking the moment to cradle the arm that had take the kick with the other until she seemed back to normal; tall, commanding, with arms in their usual position crossed across her chest. She would wait for the boy to finish, as he clearly intended to remove himself from the fight by jumping back and moving in would only result in an absurd game of chase. Instead, she became quiet after her first comment. Her head slightly cocked, she listened carefully to whatever responses Engima might give to the mystery caller.
Her attention, however, kept drifting back to the steaming oddity around the body’s torso.
ooc; nonsense post is nonsense. :(
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Feather
Administrator
[P:0]
Posts: 513
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Post by Feather on Mar 25, 2010 19:52:17 GMT -5
When the girl did not reply the Sunflora allowed the wrinkles of disgust to vanish into a smug little smirk,. No reply was needed, it appeared she had the last word on the violent front. After all, without pokemon to hide behind, what could those dull nails and weak little muscles do? Maybe the girl realized the folly of her ways, but no apology meant no forgiveness. Any thought of allowing the girl to beg for mercy were banished when she opened her ugly little puke colored lips and spoke again. The flower tried her best to silence her tongues, but allowed herself to stoop and reply to the new comment, her lashing tongue would not be collared, it was not as if saying nothing here would improve her standings. "Better than that scowl of yours. It is much smaller than a watermelon, and nowhere near the size of your stupidity" A single leaf trailed up to the tightened lines of the yellow pollen that served her for cheeks. It paused halfway up though, and the flower debated on making a very un-ladylike gesture. Propriety reined ehr in, but she did allow herself a final glower before the "choking" cloud descended.
The acting over, the plant watched as the cloud retreated before striking again. It was a very stupid cobra-cloud, all she had to do was rip the tail apart, or the head and it would be a dead stupid cloud. It took the SUnflora a moment to register the change in the Grumpig, the glassy eyes, and the gleam in Samantha's; it took her a moment too long to realize that the situation had changed. " Rosalie." The calm voice was ignored as the purple cloud hovered like death, the Sunflora allowed herself to grin. Stupid little pig, trying the same thing twi--
The cloud chose that moment to crash into her collagen plated mouth, driving the plant back a step, her eyes closed briefly as two desperate leaves batted at the cloud, sending out little razor leaves as she did so. The urge to scream built in her throat. For just a moment the mouth flickered open: "...EEE-" The Sunflora closed it again but the psychic energy inside bounced about like an angry hornet, an angry knife jabbed into her jaw, her eyes glittered purple and it hovered on her mouth like lipstick or candy residue. The pain was terrible, even for the plant, and the little thing seemed to be begging to be let out. The energy found a crack in her pained frown, and her head began to feel light, straining at the edges. "Rosalie." What did that fuckin' midget want? She obviously wasn’t going to open her mouth. For a genius, her master could often lack common sense, that or any sense of risks. The headache grew to volcanic proportions, but then it was gone. Like one spitting tobacco the Sunflora took a deep breath and spit out the remaining energy. " ...I'm going to take the damn pig to market I am." "Rosalie." The plant type was forced to abandon revenge as Duke took the field, but did allow herself to question harshly: "WHAT!?" " ..... I was going to tell you that the Grumpig and girl were planning something and how to deflect it. It no longer matters, but you gave no indication of having heard." " I was choking and about to look like a piñata." " You were also trained by the military and should not have fallen for that move in the first place." "Yah yah, pull out the administrator beating stick and horse head later, I got a mutt to leash." "As you wish, later." Was she seriously going to face punishment for missing up twice in a battle? Or was Enigma just bored again?
Hmm.
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The Gallade now knelt on top of a thick part of destroyed tree trunk, gently pulling at his broken toes, and setting them back into place with audible pops. The red eyes remained on the charging form of the Arcanine, occasionally sliding to his waiting trainer, whose golden eyes reflected the charge, the foolhardy charge. A subtle nod made the creature draw his hand away from his injured foot, which was now a lovely shade of violet, he settled his sights on the Arcanine. The very ungrateful Arcanine, what sort of opponent did not appreciate mercy? Did he not know that the same scythe that freed him from his cage of wood could have freed his brain from his skull? Was he too involved with the other to care? It was an affront to his sensibility as a rule-following assassin.
The Sunflora stared into the furnace, the flames reflecting and adding to the maniacal gleam in her own eyes. For the first time in the battle she stopped taunting, and watched, in slow motion as the flames ate up the tiny little seed, which seemed to scream as it popped and disappeared in a cloud of ash. The disturbed air streaming around DUke's body was now visible and for just a moment she could hear the hiss of hungry flames and the crackling of lightning.
Fuck.
She was so fucked.
What fun.
The flames billowed out, the SUnflora shrugged her shoulders, it least it wasn't ice. The heat blistered on her skin, but stopped.
They beat at a barrier a mere inch from her smoking skull, long claws of smoke and fire chewed at the bubble, but went around her.
Best of all, some of it bounced right back at the Arcanine. Time for the hound to get a taste of his own medicine. It had been close.
The Gallade was now standing, one leg raised, and a slim hand raised in a disco-like pose. A thin line connected the barrier back to his spread palm. "Duke. I don't believe you said thank you, allow me to show you why you should use your manners..." A scythe grew from his palm, and in an uncharacteristic joke he spoke to the SUnflora.: "Duke..I mean Duck Roist." The Sunflora's eyes widened as she hit the deck, flames roiling inches above her as a lithe shadow blocked the sky and the Gallade plummeted back down.
Only to land on his bad foot and lower into a kneel.
The flower debated on choking him, he had almost burnt her skull off!
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The smoke seemed to retreat, reluctantly, and the blue glow flickered away from his eyes. The phone was raised to his ear. "Yes, this is Enigma. Do we really need to continue with these trivialities? What do you want?" Meaningless babble erupted from the other end. " ..that sounds like a janitorial job to me. Not something for a Pravus administrator." More muttering. "I am a bit preoccupied, and can take care of myself perfectly well." The administrator held up a finger to Samantha. "It is rude to interrupt girl." "No not you, I do have today off you know." The muttering continued, albeit quieter. The voice of Enigma had grown cold and quiet. " ...... ...... ....can't he ....no? It's DNA equations, bomb building, and battle strategy, not rocket scientist. Alright. Fine. I will come back at my own time though, the beggar does not rush, especially one about to have a level two violation on her record for disturbing a top official with useless wor." The voice on the other end began to apologize before the phone was slammed shut. The phone did not turn off however, and for a moment he stared at the thing perplexed. "Red button Niggy." The bird spoke for the first time in a while, and the administrator pressed the button. The phone shut off with an almost mocking beep.
DNA modification, advanced calculations, and computer equations. Simple. Cell phones, useless and difficult.
" ........It appears ....I must leave. I must get something out of this, and paying tribute to the Professor is not my idea of a vacation." The administrator flickered to the heated, battle, then to the girl, who still held a swiss army knife. " I will see you again Ms. Morino...without all of these.. rules." No townspeople nearby to avoid harming, and no phone calls. In fact next battle he would ground the damn thing beneath his heel.
"...It was a pleasure to meet you." Inside his mind the beast let out a high-pitched howl, beating at its cage with claws of rage and hatred.
The boy bowed, what to Samantha and his pokemon had been a deadly personal battle, he treated as a simple walk, albeit an entertaining one.
It was sad when fun ended. Maybe the girl would do something silly? If so he could write it off as self-defense, besides, who would question him?
The Pravus administrator turned around, white heels clacking against the steel now scattered along the gravel.
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