MARCH UPDATE

POSTED ON Sept 27, 2018 1:01:20 GMT

the night brings about a wicked wonderland. there's no sign of life except for a lone girl out way past her bed time. esser hurries along the path, desperate to make it into town before she's preyed upon by the local night life. the scariest predators always hunt at night. the screams of prey echo through meteor falls. rumor has it that the craters serve as graves of the weak. she fears even the most harmless of what tonight has to offer.

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SHIV

GONGAGER

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October 13

GONGAGA

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gongager

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me?

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shiv

POSTED ON Sept 27, 2018 2:07:42 GMT

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A WILD DRAPION APPEARED

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what will you do?

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male / battle armor[break]
fell stinger / venoshock / night slash / cross poison

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i used to dream in the dark of palisades park.

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POSTED ON Sept 27, 2018 2:24:16 GMT

ESSER BLACKWELL likes this

There is a sense of calm that seems to breath and come to life when the blue of sky seems to run orange and bleed a rustic red– promptly fading into a nothingness. It is when the noise from the day hushes and forces the world to still when Wren feels a hint of life spark in motionless bones, when the hidden becomes known.

It wasn’t an uncommon sight to see her linger towards the edge of worn trails and nor was it uncommon for her to see the remainder of trainers flee towards the lit sanctuary of the town that lies just moments away. However, what was uncommon, was to see a stranger rush far too quickly from something she had yet to determine.

Her presence is made obvious when the dull orange of her cigarette ignites with a light, the color intense as she presses the other end to her lips and breathes; the embers crackling with a sense of fire before it grows cold– smoke unfurling from paled lips and seeming to seize life all too quickly, “Shouldn’t you be in bed?” The question leaves her with a semblance of jaggedness– a roughness– when her gaze settles upon a girl she thinks to be meek.

She doesn’t bother to move from her perch though despite the mock– albeit lackluster– in her tone, her interest almost seeming to feign the moment she had even bothered to speak. Instead, she chooses turn her gaze away and without much thought allows her cigarette to slip past nimble fingers; the ashes and ember stomped out by the thick heel of her boot the moment the bud rests on the cooled terrain of the ground.

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little sister

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I HAVE FAILED A MILLION TIMES. WHAT'S ONE MORE?

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POSTED ON Sept 27, 2018 3:40:37 GMT

to hope is to lie. the promise of safety dies with smoldered ashes, under a merciless foot. they return to drowning in the putrid black of night. this time they're not alone. misery loves company. "we all should," paints a fair warning. those who dare to stray out past midnight are bound for misfortune. that's why esser hurries. she's not wrong to be afraid.

those who dare brave the dark are fated to meet an ill end. it's not a matter of what but wren. that's destiny, an unstoppable force that unravels with extreme prejudice. drapion is tonight's suitor, here to carry them out with a FELL STINGER. they say that life flashes before your eyes right before you die. it's not too far from the truth. but, it's not life that passes by. no, it's the sick glow of a barbed tail. it comes down in arched swing, ready to cleave both girls in one fell swoop.

wren rourke

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POSTED ON Sept 27, 2018 9:29:39 GMT

It is the toxic glow of purple of a FELL STINGER that illuminates a once darkened sky and makes the presence of the dangers that lurked behind the veils of the night known, though fear does not settle across her face despite being caught amongst an unfavorable situation. Instead, she attempts to push aside the stranger in favor of handling the threat that poses an unmistakable danger though she isn’t quite sure whether her efforts would prove effective.

Though she considered the night to be a friend, it was not without the vigor and complexities of one; especially when the night turns into the dominion of the wild opposed to the tame– she knows that well enough, she has to.

It takes one fell swoop of a practiced arm to summon a wall of light– to cause a pokeball to spark to life under a the confident press poised fingers. The stinger would not meet the girls, or so she had anticipated with her efforts; the stinger would be met with the hardened exterior of a haxorus opposed to the unprotected skin of trainer.

While she did not care much in regards to her own well being, her disinterest did not extend to those around her. There is now a firmness behind relaxed motions and a sharpness behind her words as the drapion is met with the abrupt sharpness of DRAGON CLAW.

The results of her efforts in protecting the other is unknown, instead, her attention is enraptured by the clashing of an opposing NIGHT SLASH and the abrupt slamming of her haxorus’ GIGA IMPACT. There seems to be a blatant disregard towards the drapion and she chooses to make the battle abrupt– quick– unless told otherwise of course.

“Maybe some like you, but I’m not afraid of the dark.”

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POSTED ON Oct 1, 2018 5:10:57 GMT

ouch. that's the audible thought that register in her mind. the pain of her weight doubles down onto her palms, the fulcrum of what catches her descent onto the compact earth underneath. it all moves too fast for her to comprehend. she's lost, unaware, and the most dangerous of them all, vulnerable. the flurry of engagement is instantaneous, magnificent yet unappreciated. she can only catch the last repercussions of pointed keratin and rigid scales. for a moment she's captivated, watching the exchange from the grass like the insect she is.

"..."

esser has no words. the stampede of the mighty dragon demands respect. she can only watch with her mouth left agape as the drapion is catapulted onto its backside. just like that, its over. is this true strength? she doesn't know. ask not the sparrow how the eagle soars. esser is befuddled. the night no longer has a hold on her. the only terror is right before her.

she's in awe.

wren rourke

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POSTED ON Oct 4, 2018 3:07:36 GMT

It would not take long for the clashing of hardened carapaces to come to an abrupt end, a deep guttural growl sounding into the night as the wild drapion is subdued with one final DRAGON CLAW from the angered haxorus. It was a battle that failed to be in favor of the wild pokemon though there is hardly any concern from Wren as she watches the drapion move back towards the comfort of the shadows.

Her attention is focused on the opposing pokemon though it does not take her long to turn her attention towards the girl that she forced towards the ground, “You gotta be kidding me, stop staring.” Her words are curt as she extends her hand out towards the stranger, her patience thinning as her gaze settles onto the other; unaware of how long she had been really staring between the brief battle.

“Look, if you’re scared of Noire over there, I promise she doesn’t bite. Probably.”

ESSER BLACKWELL

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POSTED ON Oct 4, 2018 11:16:40 GMT

esser no longer dreads the purple menace that once preyed on her fears. the haxorous has long robbed it of that privilege, eating it back into the night. but this behemoth, is it friend or foe? wren is nothing more than a stranger but an extended hand keep the ill feelings at bay. with a stumble, esser reaches out to grasp onto her savior's wrist, clinging for dear life as her ankles lock.

"probably?"

a nauseous pit ruptures from side-- she's joking, right?

wren rourke

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