Non-Weekly Quote:
(Updated when the fancy strikes us)
"Strong Pokemon, weak Pokemon. That is only the selfish perception of people. Truly skilled trainers win with their favorites" - Karen, E4
Althea's done. Back to Tohea with us all! http://s14.zetaboards.com/tohea/index/ Current Tourney Leaders James Ramos - 2/0 Randy Savage - 2/0 Breia Exarch - 1/0 Daniel Genrud - 1/0 Sophia Blackwell - 1/0 Zackary Joel Ortega - 1/1 Devlin - -0/70 |
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| After Dusk; Everyone | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: May 31 2010, 10:09:53 PM (499 Views) | |
| President Stings | May 31 2010, 10:09:53 PM Post #1 |
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Murderous Weedle
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[Refer to the "Nighttime Battle" topic in plotting.] The sun was arching lower in the sky, preparing itself for its trip to the other side of the world. And that meant that the city was busy. Trainers everywhere were scuttling to their dorms, while a few brave souls- Either staying out of the goodness of their heart or an agreed upon contract- hung around the outskirts of the city waiting. As the sun crept ever lower, idle discussions could be heard between the career defenders. Plans for battle, checks of equipment, were all common. A group of three trainers could be found near the leftmost part of the city. One of these trainers had a cloak wrapped about him and rested against the wall. A Weedle was wrapped around his leg and watched the environ, while a Drowzee was leaning against the same wall and was apparently asleep- It would be a long night ahead, and he had been catching his sleep whenever he could. The other two trainers seemed a lot older than the typical tournament Trainer, very grizzled and hard. Their Scyther and Houndoom watched the horizon with practiced eyes, searching for movement, while for the past two hours the mercenary Trainers had argued with the one leaning against the wall for him to just go back to the dorms like all the other tournament trainers did, with little more than polite refusals. Finally giving up, they talked to each other in quiet whispers they felt certain the man could not hear. They were mistaken. "Heard the golems seemed a bit antsy earlier for some reason..." "Them? You're retarded, man." "Well, whatever it is, they split up and went to totally different parts of the city..." As he said this, the trainer looked back to see the cloaked man watching him intently. Motioning to his buddy, the two went off into the city. They both preferred to work with Regice anyway, even if the golem, like its brothers, didn't care. Betrug cracked open an eye as the two left. Interesting... This might provide more opportunity than we thought, Stings. Let's not get ahead of ourselves now. We'll need to hold until the morning. We can pick through the bodies and see what we find then. With this, the tapir went back to sleep. Augustus turned his head back out towards the wilderness, observing how the steadily retreating sunlight caused the city to look drastically different. He was mildly curious to see what the city looked like at night. [412] Edited by President Stings, Jun 1 2010, 01:22:15 AM.
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![]() Click Betrug for profile, Stings for journey (when I can be bothered to make one) | |
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| Sophia Blackwell | Jun 5 2010, 11:20:41 PM Post #2 |
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A chill breeze blew by as the day waned, announcing the end of the day. Sophia shivered as she walked briskly, hurrying back to New Haven. Her eyes scanned the surroundings nervously, the shadows that innocently filled the streets during the day growing longer and darker by the minute. Gale’s cheerful demeanor was gone, replaced by the alertness that filled him during battles, yet his shoulders were tense and stiff. The girl felt the muscles around her neck tense up as well; she had never been outside the settlement this late. They had found a large building earlier in the afternoon, just a few blocks away; it had taken both of them nearly an hour to move away the debris that blocked the entrance, but the effort had been worth it. Inside, they had found a surprisingly well-preserved library, and the teenager had lost track of time as she delved into the shelves, looking for a book to take back to the dorm. The thick, musty tome she had chosen was held now securely in her left hand, being too large to fit into her backpack. A shrill cry brought the girl back to the present, who nearly jumped in surprise as the sound echoed amongst the buildings. Her pulse slowed down when she saw a Rattata emerge from an alley, screeching loudly as it disappeared into a building. Taking a deep breath, she cursed herself silently for her lack of attention, and increased her pace. New Haven was just two or three blocks away from here; she’d be there in less than five minutes. She only wanted to reach the safety of the dorm, get into her bed, and maybe read a little bit of the book before dinner. It was her turn to cook; she’d make something simple to avoid the usual mess that filled the kitchen whenever she prepared food. Mr. Merten would get angry at her if she left it dirty again, and he had made sure to voice his displeasure last time. Sophia’s head snapped to her right as the corner of her eye caught something moving along the wall, yet she saw nothing out of the ordinary. Had it been a trick of the light? The wall seemed to ripple for a moment as daylight faded, tiny waves running along its surface for a moment before settling down once more. The movement was so small it could have been her imagination, but she had heard stories about buildings shifting, opening up to swallow trainers whole, leaving them trapped for days. The girl shivered again, forcing herself to look forward once more as New Haven came into sight. Just one more block, and she’d be safe. One more block, and she’d reach the line of defenders that protected the city during the night… Wait. There was no line of defenders tonight; a cloaked figure stood alone against a wall, yet she couldn’t make out any details about it at this distance. She felt her pulse quicken as her eyes widened in alarm. Was there only one person guarding this street tonight? Panic gripped her mind as her hands grew cold, and she looked over the area, desperately searching for the cloaked figure’s companions. The shadows seemed to grow around the street, engulfing the small areas that still remained illuminated by the rapidly fading daylight. She forced herself to calm down after a moment; they could be around the corner, or waiting nearby. Partially succeeding, she hurried towards the town, Gale following closely. [587/587] |
Sophia Blackwell ![]() -------Profile------ ------Journal----- | |
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| Usar | Jun 12 2010, 10:30:41 PM Post #3 |
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Brandon took his eyes off the street he was running down to glance over at Max on his shoulder. "You two are more trouble than you're worth sometimes." ---Fifteen Minutes Earlier--- The three of them had been up a little late going over what they had managed to map of the Trail of the Bygone, to see if they would be able to recognize any repetitions on their next day's journey. He had been trying to make out some of his chicken-scratch handwriting when Sam's head snapped up and she vanished in a teleport strong enough to take a corner of the kitchen table with her. Brandon stared. He expected this kind of behavior from Max, definitely, but to see it in Sam rang all kinds of alarm bells in his head. "Max, did you feel anything that would cause Sam to bolt like that?" Max shook his head no. Brandon wasn't sure what to think at this point, however he knew that he couldn't leave Sam out on her own. "Grab the emergency pack while I get dressed again." As Max went to retrieve the pack Brandon had made up for situations that would be hairier than his usual trail-walking, Brandon stepped into the bedroom to retrieve his updated outfit. He had come to Althea dressed like he was going to be out in the wilderness and he found to painful effect that it was far too little protection. Taking the time to look through drawers and closets while he was exploring yielded leather reinforcement for his pants, some kind of spray-on metal to armor up his jacket, and his personal favorite, an old army helmet. Intellectually, he knew that what he did wouldn't mean anything if he ran into a feral Pokémon, but there was something comforting about being a little chewier than he was before. Seeing that Max had managed to drag the pack out into the front hallway, he headed that direction, scooping up Max and the bag without breaking stride. Brandon wasn't sure where to start looking for his wayward Ralts, but once he hit the street, Max started pointing, so he set off in that direction. ---5 Minutes Later--- Something was wrong here, above and beyond the usual Althean heebie jeebies. It was nagging at Brandon's mind when he realized that he was getting closer to the edge of town and it was getting quieter. No other trainers holding the line, no giant titans to rain down nature's fury on the horrors lurking in the dark, and especially no backup if things should get hairy. "Max, are you sure this is where Sam went?" A nod and a quick vocalization later, Brandon was cursing his fate. "Keep an eye out for anything big and angry, we're getting uncomfortably close to the edge of New Haven." He turned a corner and came up upon an interesting scene. Sam was there, crouched in front of a trainer and her Lucario, a haze of psychic energy streaming between the ground and her 'third-eye', a finger pointing at the trainer... Shit, this probably wasn't good. "Sam, back down!!! I'm really sorry about this, usually she's usually a bit more even-keeled." [533] Edited by Usar, Jun 22 2010, 08:00:08 PM.
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Brandon Slick Sam and Max | |
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| ArkallaRaskin | Jun 16 2010, 09:34:26 PM Post #4 |
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Air-Headed Pyrotechnic
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Arkalla smiled uncontrollably as he walked around the Arkalla's little Lala Land experience was rudely interrupted by a guard, who seemingly popped out of nowhere. "Hey kid, you know that you should try and get to the dorms now, right? Run along now, before you end up getting attacked." The thought of being attacked by something jolted Arkalla back to his senses. "Alright, yeah. Uhh, where are the dorms, persay?" he said, a thick Russian accent easily prevalent in his voice, though by no means hindering his English. The guard paused in disbelief, and then it clicked. "Ah, a newbie. Okay, see that intersection over there? Alright, go past all those shops and take a left there, and then keep walking until you see an apartment complex. It's like, the largest thing in this place, so you can't miss it." Arkalla thanked him and walked off. Now that he was out of his paradise, he rummaged through his pockets for his pack of cigarettes. Arkalla's complete inability to multitask forced him to stop moving until he could successfuly find the cigarettes. Pulling one out, he held it out to Typhon as the little bugger released a small flame from his mouth. He rubbed Typhon's head and stuck the cigarette in between his lips and continued moving. After a while, Arkalla began to believe that he probably passed the apartment complex. This was confirmed by Typhon setting the right cuff of his shirt on fire. As he hastily removed the fire, his cuff blackened slightly, to about the same color wafting from his cigarette tip. So instead of, you know, backtracking his steps or something, he instead continued to walk in whatever direction he was going. His eyes were still adjusting to the general lack of light in the area, and he almost missed the random guy leaning on a wall. If Typhon hadn't seen a bug curled around the dude's leg, perhaps Arkalla would have missed him. Instead, he took the liberty of going to meet this guy. Upon further inspection he noticed that a fat pig was resting next to him, and as soon as he realized it was a Drowzee, he threw that thought out of his head as quickly as possible; no need to have the thing pissed off at him. The dude was wearing a cloak for some reason; it didn't seem too cold at the moment. Only now did he realize that he should probably ask this man why he was outside. "Man, why are you outside? Also, there's a..." Arkalla peered down, "Weedle? Awesome! I want one! Where'd you get it?" He didn't bother finishing his other sentence, nor did he bother paying any attention to the girl that was walking towards this dude at all. [592] Edited by ArkallaRaskin, Jun 20 2010, 10:35:01 PM.
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A Pyrotechnic![]() {Typhon} HP: 14 | ATK: 0 DEF: 3 | SP. ATK: 4 SP. DEF: 3 | AGI: 6 Moves: Lava Plume, Swift ![]() Courtesy of Piggy a while ago =P The ol' team: ![]() Soul Silver Team: | |
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| Arlyin | Jun 21 2010, 09:19:50 PM Post #5 |
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Arlyïn was drying the last of his dishes from dinner when Lloyd floated in, eyes narrowed and darting around the room. He'd been twitchy ever since their adventure beyond the walls of New Haven; mistrustful of Pokémon, constantly on alert. The cloud of gas that usually obscured his silhouette was pulled up tight against his body, quivering stormily like the surface of the sun. Arlyïn sighed as he began putting dishes away. "You're going to have to relax sooner or later. We're inside the barricade - Dahaka Corp and those creepy golems aren't going to let anything happen to us. Just imagine the lawsuits if they did!" Lloyd floated to the window and examined the streets outside. Idiot, how can you know that? Those're the farthest thing from humanity - there isn't even a single face between all three of them! Besides, there have been more and more of them coming...I can feel them... "You can feel them. I see." Sarcasm dripped from his words, barely missing a freshly-dried plate. He pointed out the window. "Look, that guy's headed towards the front lines. Why don't we go have a look see for ourselves, too?" Fine. Don't come crying to me when you get eaten by a rabid... A flicker of red caught Lloyd's eye. He took a second glance out the window, grinning. Yeah. Yeah Chief, let's go tag along with him. Him and his cyndaquil. He slowly turned around feigning surprise at the loud crash that had sounded behind him. Arlyïn was gripping the counter with whitened knuckles, eyes slitted, breathing heavily through clenched teeth. "Yeah, yeah let's go tag along with the cyndaquil. Just let me grab my coat." He glared at Lloyd. On rare occasions, Lloyd's mischievous nature was a boon to Arlyïn: when Lloyd pulled off an especially devious combat technique, or when trying to convince Lloyd to take a second look at ferocious, insane Pokémon, for example. However, that didn't mean he ever liked where it got him - like the time he was forced to either lose an argument, or make friends with a fire-type. For example. Conveniently, by the time Arlyïn had grabbed his jacket and they were out the door, the kid was nowhere to be seen. Arlyïn shrugged, and was about to walk right back into the dorms when Lloyd casually threatened to Shadow Ball the entire apartment. Arms crossed and pouting, he turned and made his way down the street, with Lloyd leading the way. They approached a small group of trainers and Pokémon, including the cyndaquil and trainer they'd seen earlier. From out of the darkness came a shrill scream. Arlyïn swallowed hard, remembering that night, what it felt like to be surrounded by those screams in the dead of night. Goddamn Lloyd. Next time he'd have to try harder and just let it go. Arlyïn glared at the cyndaquil. Goddamn Pokémon. "Uh, hey guys... so, uh, is all this screaming normal around here?" [495] Edited by Arlyin, Jun 21 2010, 09:20:26 PM.
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![]() Lloyd the Gastly! #7D4375 ![]() Arlyïn Fujiyama the Trainer! #88405E | |
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12:41 AM Jul 11
