Meg
Female
22
April 29
Slateport
Bi
Trainer
N/A
i used to dream in the dark of palisades park.
TAG WITH @lime2
Megan Whitmore
Don't dig too deep
POSTED ON Oct 27, 2022 19:56:06 GMT
[nospaces] [attr="class","blboxfl"] “That’s just because I tend to only talk about stuff I have at least some confidence in,” she replied with a laugh, while leading the other outside again. That, too, was something she had confidence enough in. Mostly because she had scouted all of this out ahead of time. Could probably have done the job herself, if she was being honest. But it was more fun this way. Plus, she had something planned either way. [break][break] And everything was working out according to plan indeed. Though she had completely missed the effect her words had had on the other, mostly because her mind and eyes had already been glued ahead, in a way. “I spent most of my life being hesitant, walking the path of least resistance. Ended up stuck in retail hell, actually. That’s why I sometimes become a bit of a mess inside a Pokemart. But I dodge those, so you would not see me inside one and so, think I am not a mess. That’s just how those sorts of things work, sadly. Or funnily.” She shrugged, with a smile as they worked they way up the path – towards the smithy. [break][break] It was quite the oldschool kind of building, all brick, wood and mortar. There was one furnace on the outside, where a Turtonator and a Machoke were working something. It was impossible to tell what it was, but it caused a lot of smoke. As they arrived, the were greeted by a surprisingly slender man with tussled grey hair, a youthful face and wearing mostly a long apron. Though he clearly was quite muscular at the same time. “That’s Tim. He tells everyone to call him Tim,” Megan introduced, while handing over her bucket to a floating Geodude. A shiny, incidentally. In return, Tim mostly just grunted and handed her a paper, then headed back inside while Geodude picked up Jo’s bucket, too. [break][break] In the meantime, Megan un-rolled the paper and showed it to Jo. “His old man and my old man go way back, so he asked me to help with something and in exchange, he said if we bring him some extra ore, he’ll make us something. Well, he didn’t really say it, rather text it, but same thing. Anyway, I asked for something practical, so he’ll make us survival knives like this.” She held up the design. “Looks pretty decent to me. And really like, old-school. Probably lasts longer than the mass produced stuff.”
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