Pokémon Information Affiliation: Trainer Starter: Houndour Password: Swedish Fish
Samples First Person Sample:
'ow the 'ell d'ye expect me to use this damn thing-
[The first audible thing is a grumble and a muffled curse before the video is set up correctly and it reveals a rather irritated looking woman with her arms crossed beneath her breasts.]
That workin'? I 'aven' got the time t'be messin' about with this when I could be doin' a bevy a other things-
[She huffs a little in frustration to cut herself off. She didn't start this to just complain, focus, Beast.]
Any'ow, I wanted t'know what you people do 'round 'ere when yer not off on some journey findin' yerself or what not. Yer seriously content jus'... fightin' each other? Trainin' up an' animal is all well an' good, mind, but. Sort a used t'actually workin' for my livin', ye understand.
[If she was going to say anything else, (and she was, because really, this was less actual griping and more griping for the sake of not being able to think of normal ways to start a conversation about people's goals here or their work), Beast doesn't get the chance, interrupted by the sound of a hungry Houndour.
Her gaze moves down to it offscreen, softening her expression a bit before she goes to turn off the PokéGear with a barely audible "yeah, yeah, 'old yer 'orses".]
Third Person Sample:
Beast hated herself for not hating this place.
She woke up with the sun like she always did, bright and early, but there was no tiger, no elephant waiting for their breakfast, no line of second string talent to brush past to get her breakfast, no mucking out pens or putting the animals through their paces- there was a rather strange dog she'd come to know as a Houndour, (not a "hound", apparently). There were all sorts of other beasts about the place, in unfathomable shapes and colors and natures, and it was all impossible. Most of it was- hell, just being in that place had been hard to comprehend. For the first days she'd woken each morning assuming she'd be back where she belonged. Back in London. With her whole family.
She stretched, letting out a satisfied noise as the dog- Pokémon, she corrected herself- beside her began to stir as well. It yawned as she swung her legs, (one and a third legs, technically), out of the bedroll, rolling one real and one false ankle with a chorus of interesting noises. She didn't like wearing the prosthetic to bed, but out in the woods like this... it wasn't smart to take it off. The need to defend oneself hadn't changed from her own home, that was one thing familiar at least, even if the method of defense was rather different.
Next came the PokèGear, checking in on Joker and Snake, see if they'd put anything out on that communal board. Dropping a comment by them, checking in. Arranging to meet. Then came the moment where she wrestled with herself and told herself not to look, but did so anyway. For Doll. For Jumbo. For Dagger. For Peter and Wendy.
Not today.
"Time t'move yer hind end, Dante." With a sigh Beast hauled herself out of the bedroll fully, tugging it out from under her Houndour and rolling it back up, gathering her things and casting an eye out to the trees around her. This sort of life, as foreign and ill fitting as it seemed to her, as much as she railed against it...
It wasn't a bad life.
Father wasn't anywhere to rule their lives. They didn't have to do those sorts of things anymore, (kidnap children in the night, deliver them to fates best left unsaid), and the idea of starving children, abandoned unwanteds, was so far off in the towns she visited these days that it still left her staring up in to the dark at night wondering when she'd realize that what had really happened was she had gone mad.
Perhaps she had. But Dante was nipping at her heels, (and when had that creature become so valuable, so close to her anyhow-), and the sun was rising, and she had food, a way to stay in touch however awkwardly she did, a map, and a destination in mind, a place where she'd been told there were big cats- well, what she called cats and natives to this place called Purrloins.
Whichever. It would do well in her act either way.
"Reckon we can meet up with the others if we get this errand out the way soon." Directed it at the Houndour next to her, though it was more of an announcement to herself. Finish up, return to the others. Even if her heart twinged a bit at the thought, at the guilt of living like this without the others, of leaving them behind, of daring to be something like happy without knowing how they were.
For starting to think she might be growing used to it.
no subject
Affiliation: Trainer
Starter: Houndour
Password: Swedish Fish
Samples
First Person Sample:
'ow the 'ell d'ye expect me to use this damn thing-
[The first audible thing is a grumble and a muffled curse before the video is set up correctly and it reveals a rather irritated looking woman with her arms crossed beneath her breasts.]
That workin'? I 'aven' got the time t'be messin' about with this when I could be doin' a bevy a other things-
[She huffs a little in frustration to cut herself off. She didn't start this to just complain, focus, Beast.]
Any'ow, I wanted t'know what you people do 'round 'ere when yer not off on some journey findin' yerself or what not. Yer seriously content jus'... fightin' each other? Trainin' up an' animal is all well an' good, mind, but. Sort a used t'actually workin' for my livin', ye understand.
[If she was going to say anything else, (and she was, because really, this was less actual griping and more griping for the sake of not being able to think of normal ways to start a conversation about people's goals here or their work), Beast doesn't get the chance, interrupted by the sound of a hungry Houndour.
Her gaze moves down to it offscreen, softening her expression a bit before she goes to turn off the PokéGear with a barely audible "yeah, yeah, 'old yer 'orses".]
Third Person Sample:
Beast hated herself for not hating this place.
She woke up with the sun like she always did, bright and early, but there was no tiger, no elephant waiting for their breakfast, no line of second string talent to brush past to get her breakfast, no mucking out pens or putting the animals through their paces- there was a rather strange dog she'd come to know as a Houndour, (not a "hound", apparently). There were all sorts of other beasts about the place, in unfathomable shapes and colors and natures, and it was all impossible. Most of it was- hell, just being in that place had been hard to comprehend. For the first days she'd woken each morning assuming she'd be back where she belonged. Back in London. With her whole family.
She stretched, letting out a satisfied noise as the dog- Pokémon, she corrected herself- beside her began to stir as well. It yawned as she swung her legs, (one and a third legs, technically), out of the bedroll, rolling one real and one false ankle with a chorus of interesting noises. She didn't like wearing the prosthetic to bed, but out in the woods like this... it wasn't smart to take it off. The need to defend oneself hadn't changed from her own home, that was one thing familiar at least, even if the method of defense was rather different.
Next came the PokèGear, checking in on Joker and Snake, see if they'd put anything out on that communal board. Dropping a comment by them, checking in. Arranging to meet. Then came the moment where she wrestled with herself and told herself not to look, but did so anyway. For Doll. For Jumbo. For Dagger. For Peter and Wendy.
Not today.
"Time t'move yer hind end, Dante." With a sigh Beast hauled herself out of the bedroll fully, tugging it out from under her Houndour and rolling it back up, gathering her things and casting an eye out to the trees around her. This sort of life, as foreign and ill fitting as it seemed to her, as much as she railed against it...
It wasn't a bad life.
Father wasn't anywhere to rule their lives. They didn't have to do those sorts of things anymore, (kidnap children in the night, deliver them to fates best left unsaid), and the idea of starving children, abandoned unwanteds, was so far off in the towns she visited these days that it still left her staring up in to the dark at night wondering when she'd realize that what had really happened was she had gone mad.
Perhaps she had. But Dante was nipping at her heels, (and when had that creature become so valuable, so close to her anyhow-), and the sun was rising, and she had food, a way to stay in touch however awkwardly she did, a map, and a destination in mind, a place where she'd been told there were big cats- well, what she called cats and natives to this place called Purrloins.
Whichever. It would do well in her act either way.
"Reckon we can meet up with the others if we get this errand out the way soon." Directed it at the Houndour next to her, though it was more of an announcement to herself. Finish up, return to the others. Even if her heart twinged a bit at the thought, at the guilt of living like this without the others, of leaving them behind, of daring to be something like happy without knowing how they were.
For starting to think she might be growing used to it.