she/her
22
February 24
Oldale Town
bisexual
police
cadet
TAG WITH @blythe
blythe rosewood
QUEENSWAY — closed
POSTED ON Sept 6, 2022 6:42:57 GMT
modernity scowls in the face of a little temple on the outskirts of a bustling city center. though slateport rages beyond it's hallowed walls and stern statuettes, reverent silence reigns supreme within. only the clang of bells interrupts what serene quietude spreads throughout, rolling across untempered glades of nature and well-worn sandstone pathways.[break]
blythe's never been in a place such as this. spiritual reverence never truly captured her attention in the way plants and flowers had. as old humphrey explained to her a very long time ago, even kyogre would cringe at her proclivity for talking, talking, talking. so she kept away, terrified of bothering those who relied on outside influences to be happy, and it's only today that she finally enters one such hallowed place after many years of avoidance. her skin feels tingly, her eyes blown wide, her hair scuffed and mussed and otherwise unbrushed in the lackadaisical late summer breeze. goodness, she's certainly never belonged in a place such as this, and there's no denying that such a sentiment has changed since she declared it in her wild, rambunctious youth.[break]
today, though, she's not here for pleasure. it's business![break]
the business being the extreme amount of wild pokemon thrashing everything in sight!! goodness, there's no end to it! lillipups, audinos, liepards... the list goes on forever!! and as blythe is attempting to herd a wild starly away from what must be a very sacred box full of... bells?... all her partner, donmai the florges, can do, is stand there and look pretty! blythe, sweating from top to bottom, looks up, red-faced, as her hands get pecked by the overzealous flying pokemon. "donmai!" she shouts, puffing out her cheeks. "heeeelp!"[break]
if a florges could sigh, she would. one long, snaking vine uncoils from the bed of flowers her head rests in and nonchalantly slams down in front of the starly—not hitting, but certainly scaring. it takes off in a flurry of feathers, leaving blythe panting victorious over a poorly protected wooden box, complete with bleeding wounds from the starly's beak. a tepid smile rapidly approaches her face.[break]
"thanks, donmai!"[break]
donmai's eyes roll.[break]
ah, but there's still so many pokemon here! how will she possibly get rid of all of them in a timely manner? where does she even start? against her own will, blythe winds up feeling terribly useless once again.[break]
Tam Fawley
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