[o] Underfoot

i used to dream in the dark of palisades park

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i used to dream in the dark of palisades park.

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[o] Underfoot

POSTED ON Jun 18, 2019 7:44:03 GMT

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Whoever's brave enough to roam around the outskirts at night

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"P-Please, stop..!"[break][break]

Slap. The sound echos in the night, outskirts in the abandoned warehouse where naught a soul could be found. It was damp - the summer drizzle from earlier that day lingered in the air, against her skin (and it burned; she couldn't breath as her lungs felt like they had been set alight). Footsteps against the gravel, firm followed by the weakened stumble of a woman not too far behind. The silhouettes of two women could be seen under the poor street lights, dimly and only barely illuminating the pathway. "Didn't I tell you to shut up?!" a hiss. A woman's hiss, hand clutching onto a long, lock of white hair (crushing in her grip, delicate white as snow nearly cracking under the pressure). A cry can be heard, sobs from the woman who follows from behind. Her words cannot be made out, between the tears fallen from her face while she can do nothing but follow along, helplessly (because that's what she is; helpless. She is worthless; cannot do anything on her own. Pushed around and never given a chance to speak back). [break][break]

"I-I'm sor--"[break][break]

Again. And again. Then another, the tugs grew stronger as the hand digs its nails into her cheek. Her hand raises, brushing over the fresh marks that are stung by the salty tears streaming down her face. "Why can't you just listen to your mother?!" The woman curses, a poison to her bite (Elora's frozen; she knows. How dare she speak up to the woman who's raised her all these years?). Elora dares not to speak back, and yet all she can do is hopelessly watch. And watch. And watch as the woman who should have been her mother pushes open the iron door of the abandoned warehouse. Their own little utopia, as her mother would call it. Not a single soul outside would hear, in spite of the echos from within the walls. [break][break]

FTB due to.. *ahem* physical abuse[break][break]

All who comes out is a woman, stomping out before spitting into the building. "If you aren't here when I check in the morning, I'll throw you to sleep with the feebas!" her words are like daggers, opening the recently closed wounds. Again. Why had this happened, again? Why was it her, why was it always, always her? She doesn't understand - she can't understand - when she's told 'it's for your own good' (blindly following an obvious lie; what is she trying to salvage?). Why does she put up with this? For her dignity? No, that has been abandoned years ago. For her mother? No, the woman hates her (she couldn't bat an eye if the girl died; the only inconvenience would be less money flowing in). Ah, no. It was for the relationship. [break][break]

Such a beautifully, twisted relationship. [break][break]

She picks herself up, yet still tied to the ground. Her legs can't move, and her strength is all in her arms. White locks all over azure blue eyes, glaring outwards to the crack in the door. A bright, blue azure that had long since lost its spark; all that's left? [break][break]

Was the instant of piercing rage.

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[o] Underfoot

POSTED ON Jun 18, 2019 9:14:36 GMT

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[attr="class","veiltop"]❝ I shall not be more then you can see ❞

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"you guys are like, the worst ever." the pink haired girl grumbles, even as she's walking at a rapid pace.
[break][break]
her 'friends' ( and even she's using the quotations, but she thinks of them as friends because they were there when she was alone, alone and struggling to find him. but let's be honest, bullies or enemies would be better words for how they treat her ) convinced her to go out in the outskirts, and go check out the warehouses. they told her of some rumour of a strange iron warehouse with a pretty ghost inside.
[break][break]
first of all, she didn't believe in ghosts. if it was, it was a pokemon.
[break][break]
second, she's an idiot for accepting, even if she is part of team rocket.
[break][break]
and so far nothing has gained her interest. she's been in most of these, fetching things or as dares from her friends. so really, it makes sense that she goes deeper. to the section even she's weary of messing with, because this is where secrets lie. ( and crystal does not like messing with secrets. they have a way of choking the life out of people and she's seen too many crushed by them. in fact, she has her own and it's an anchor she ignores quite easily, since that's what she does. ) and honestly there wouldn't be anything interesting! just trouble, and that's not something the little rocket wanted.
[break][break]
at least, until she hears the click of heels, and hides as a spitting mad woman stomps away.
[break][break]
"who was that?" she mutters. it was someone she didn't know, and crystal did not like the expression on the woman's face. ( hatred, cold hatred, the expression she'd seen on the bullies before he stopped them. an expression she saw on them even though they couldn't touch her anymore. ) and that made her instincts twitch in both curiosity and alarm. after a moment or two more, she slips out of her hiding spot, tracing the steps the woman had taken. looking this way and that, it was a little hard at first, the traces were hard and it was dark.
[break][break]
but she was stubborn. she found the warehouse.
[break][break]
because that cracked door was the clue.
[break][break]
gently, she pushed open the door, poking her head inside - only to meet with a burning blue gaze. the girl stills for a moment, unable to look away. at eyes that seemed so familiar to her, in a twisted way. they were the eyes that reminded her of big brother. and that's what decided her, pushing the door fully open and walking in boldly. her steps faltered when she saw the chains ( she remembers the time they tied her up and left her alone for two and a half days, how much she was terrified and how her mind twisted. she forgave them, because she always did. ) and something flashed in her own gaze. her bright pink eyes seemed to darken, but then just like that they were light.
[break][break]
"hello, what's your name?" she said, offering the girl before her a sweet, and open smile.
[break][break]
did it matter if this white haired person was a wild beast ready to devour her? did it matter that this person was a victim, or perhaps was here for good reason? not really. to crystal, she only understood one thing.
[break][break]
that she needed to help.

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[attr="class","veilooc"]@elora[break] I did it, enjoy the squishy rocket child! ;3

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[o] Underfoot

POSTED ON Jun 18, 2019 22:59:15 GMT

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She's sorry either way--

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It wasn't fair. [break][break]

Why did she have to put up with this? Why did she have to accept this, quietly take it without a word uttered in her defence? She didn't understand why she sat there, doing nothing, as the woman had walked out with little to no remorse in her tone. She tries her best to stand up, but the bruises on her legs prompt out a wince from her as she tries (she tries, again, and again) to pick herself up. She takes in a deep breath (the air stings her lungs, when had the air become so stagnant?) before letting out a long, deep sigh. Every part of her body hurts, aches, and the question of whether or not the world was trying to kill her arose in her head. Why did she try so hard to begin with? Why was she trying? Why was she putting up with everything? Why? [break][break]

Ah, that's right. [break][break]

It was to make her happy. It was to make the woman, whom she, for so long, has called mother, happy. That's all she's good for, she tells herself time and time again (again, saying that maybe one day she will be given the love she so selfishly thinks she deserves). She pants softly, the rage hadn't died yet. How could it? After being kicked down, humiliated, taken for a fool (but that's probably what she is; a fool, for not being able to do anything and growing frustrated in herself). A glaze over her eyes - they were clouded (but clouded with what? She could feel nothing; the rage that should be brewing was numbed because she couldn't bear the thought of growing angered at someone she loved so dearly). [break][break]

A hand stretched itself to her, it had taken her a while to realize who - what - exactly was kind enough to speak to her in such a soft and warm tone. The light in her eyes had dimmed, muted in contrast to the pinkish woman. Though weak (forced) she put a smile, soft and sweet in return. She couldn't let this girl worry (not about her, she didn't deserve it). She couldn't waste this girl's time, and not at this time. It was late, she didn't want to bother anybody at this time. After all, she was going to waste their time. "I-I'm alright.." She stammers, followed by the trailing. It would be rude to turn down the offer to help and, however hesitant, she tried to pick herself up with a stumble to her step. ".. Elora. I-I'm sorry for causing a ruckus at this time.."

[attr="class","ellytag"]@crystal

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Aero

conrad

he/him

december 18

vermillion city, kanto

anything goes

errand boy

grunt

lost in thoughts

ALL ALONE

843 height

Embrace the dark you call a home, Gaze upon an empty, white throne

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priam conrad

[o] Underfoot

POSTED ON Jun 20, 2019 4:47:19 GMT

persephone amavi and jayde cross like this

he stares at the individuals in front of him, both of them being nice little girls. it was a pretty picture to look at, but at the same time, it was interfering with his job.

"yeah. it's nice that you know what you're doing miss."

he reveals himself in the darkness, coming from the same direction as the woman who left the warehouse. this was rocket territory and anyone who lingers without permission is to be dealt with, both the mother and her daughter included.

they'd assign him to guard over the warehouses in case league officials tries to come again for some reason. the only thing worth noting was the display of violence, but it seemed as if he had been too late to catch her once again.

he'd raise a brow upon the interaction. he recognizes one as a member of the organization, but fails to pin a name on her face. he was bad at memorization anyways, and so he leaves it at that. the other was trash left by the woman who willingly steps into their territory without second thought. she's harmless, but she doesn't belong here nonetheless.

"oooh. oh! you're helping her? that's nice."

his voice was enthusiastic and excited-- happy even. priam was an open book and can be read easily, though sometimes, his sense of sarcasm can find itself hidden within his tone.

@crystal @elora

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played by

lyre

sinclair

he / him

twenty-eight

january 4

saffron, kanto

heterosexual

underboss

executive

against the steel

a rush to rust

321 height

become as fire, eat the woods. eat the dark and show where i stood

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dominic sinclair

[o] Underfoot

POSTED ON Jun 20, 2019 5:14:12 GMT

the sounds disturb him; hissed voices and cries disturbing the silence that usually enveloped the warehouses like a heavy veil. dominic straightens, suddenly alert at his post, his eyes narrowing sharply.

the houndoom by his side exhales sharply, smoke coiling from his parted fangs.

the duo follow the noise, turning corners once, then twice until the scene unfolds in front of them.

dominic's eyes rest on priam for a long moment, and he inclines his head sideways slightly; half a gesture of recognition and half a greeting.

the other two are unknown variables, however. access to the area has been restricted for months. dominic's eyes narrow to ruby chips, as cold and crimson as the stone itself.

"well, well, well," dominic says slowly, a mocking lilt to his voice. his gaze surveys the injured woman for a moment longer, and he has to fight the urge to roll his eyes.

"did we get ourselves into trouble?"

the question does not beg for an answer. he already knows the trouble has only just begun.

» @crystal @elora priam conrad

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played by

spiral

silph

SIR

twenty-nine

august 12th

saffron

oppressive

silph co. ceo

council member

SALACIOUS

ALWAYS READY TO ROLL A NEW ONE

1997 height

POWER IS TAKEN, NEVER GIVEN—SO TAKE WHAT YOU ARE OWED

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FERNANDO SILPH

[o] Underfoot

POSTED ON Jun 20, 2019 5:51:51 GMT

dominic sinclair likes this

slateport is hell on earth. those who venture into the territory must be ready to pay the price. those who don't are the vullaby who look to steal what others refuse to give up—their lives. the last time someone had the gall to enter unprepared, he had sacrificed so much for so little in return. he learned his lesson from bailing out Stormy Silph and all her incompetencies. for someone heralded as the hero of hoenn, fernando found it ironic how easy she faltered.

there would not be a second time. he had ignored his destiny once—he cannot do it again.

under the moniker alexander sparagus, fernando operates within slateport as one of its many faceless henchmen. only dominic sinclair will recognize grunt a. sparagus for who he truly is.

alexander rounds the warehouse entrance on his mission to locate the captive gym leader cait alfric . he acknowledges both rockets with a curt nod of his head, passing by the inevitable torture scene with a blind eye. "have fun, boss," he snickers, intending to keep in character to get past priam conrad 's unknowing eyes.

justice is blind and so too will be the bystanders for tonight's massacre. alexander has more pressing matters to attend to. he wishes the rockets well and dips back into the night without remorse.

how unfortunate.

@elora @crystal
dominic sinclair priam conrad

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[o] Underfoot

POSTED ON Jun 21, 2019 19:17:55 GMT

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[attr="class","veiltop"]❝ I shall not be more then you can see ❞

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crystal is relieved. if the girl can smile, then there's something still there.
[break][break]
just as the pink haired girl is about to reassure the white haired one that everything is ok, everything goes from zero to one hundred in about a millisecond. first, someone she doesn't know by sight - second, someone she does know by sight and rightly fears. third, a grunt that makes her feel uneasy, and now the warehouse is filled with three men and two girls.
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she's seen enough hentai to know where this is going.
[break][break]
"um...." she starts, but stops and just kinda frowns. what the heck is she supposed to do.
[break][break]
"Ok sequentially!" she mumbles to herself, clapping lightly. turning to the white haired girl, the small just barely not a teen ( although 18 is still a teen, she just thinks it's not ) smiles again gently. "it's ok, it's no ruckus. well it wasn't - but I was just curious and well... I can't leave you there. nobody should be locked up like that." she says to her, before turning to face the boys. "so um, hi boss and hi two people I don't know! I was just wandering and found her kinda chained down. I saw someone walk away thatta way and well... I thought it was suspicious." she said.
[break][break]
crystal had a gut feeling that she shouldn't mention she's a rocket. she doesn't know why, but she doesn't want to tell the white haired girl that she's associated with the people that run this place. although context clues would be enough to guess it... oh well. she just wanted to help someone. and well, honestly she's really at a loss on how to deal with all of it.
[break][break]
nevermind her internal instinct is screaming that she should get the girl and fucking run.
[break][break]
"so we're gonna get her some help, right?" she said, looking at everyone.
[break][break]
she has a real bad feeling about this.

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[attr="class","veilooc"]@elora priam conrad dominic sinclair FERNANDO SILPH[break] I need poke don't hate me r i p