Lex
She / Her
28
January 2
Goldenrod City
Bi
Thief
Ex-Rocket Beast
Going to hell cause it feels like heaven.
PAAA: LITTLEROOT TOWN
POSTED ON Oct 28, 2022 16:55:42 GMT
Lex isn’t stupid, she knew she wouldn’t come out of this unscathed. A charging Spectreir is hardly something to blink an eye at. It invites both defensive and offensives moves as she threatens to crush one of their most treasured appliances here in the city: its Primal Point. The device is not the subject of their attack, but it sure act as a hell of a distraction while bryan delarosa and the others storm the theater.
The FOCUS BLAST strikes and does cause her mount to falter. The Spectrier stumbles for a moment, finding footing against the ground before continuing its charge. The equine’s nares flares in pursuit, strength flooding its limbs. War. It’s namesake. It ignites the primal desire for battle.
The Dark-type’s CRUNCH doesn’t stop them from reaching their target, but it does drawn both the attention of the rider and the steed. Her Rocket brothers and sisters join her at the point. She’s no longer surrounded by League, but amongst her people. They face a daunting task, uncertainty made more clear by the PRECIPICE BLADES that erupt from the ground below. The League has found favor with the Land Titan? Interesting.
The weight of GRAVITAS sends a ROCK SLIDE hurdling towards them, “PROTECT!” she calls out, the ghost obeys, a shimmering light arcing over the small group of Rockets as the stones barrel against it. The barrier shudders against the strength of the attack and the building gravity. When it’s over, they are surprisingly alive.
A ROAR OF TIME seems to stop the world where it is. It’s a familiar feeling, one she’s experienced before. For a moment, the Beast can’t shake it, and neither can the others. Just as quickly as it stopped, time resumed.
A quick survey of the land pinpoint their enemies. They are surrounded, but not for long, “Destroy them,” she growls, locking eyes with Kaida Adachi. A sharp pressure from her heels spurs the Spectreier forward, she slides off just before they reach the Krookodile and its trainer. The battle for Littleroot has begun.
A critical strike from the Spectreir's hooves stuns the Krookodile and Kaida Adachi is able to escape with their life. a GRIM NEIGH echoes across the battlefield in victory. Lex doesn't let people run so easily. Her brows furrow in frustration, and after she catches her balance she is quick to stalk off after Kaida and her Krookodile. The wounded Spectreir follows. As she nears the PRIMAL POINT, her progress is halted by the webbed barrier protecting the machine. Within it, John Sullivan meets her gaze. The Beast's lips curl into a grin. Challenge accepted.
Their fight with the Captain does to go as planned. But that matters little, their intention is not the Primal Point. That is a drop of water in the bucket. If the League needed to use this Point instead of Mt. Pyre, they probably shouldn't destroy it anyway. At the end fo the day, Lex didn't want to get squished like a bug by a meteor. She flees from the Primal Point, but not out of fear or defeat. She's on the hunt for another fight. Her blood boils with the adrenaline of war and the pokeballs at her hip vibrate with anticipation. She locks eyes with Guillermo Marceliño, advancing on with a wicked grin.
Lex doesn't take the interruption kindly, and she set her sights on bigger fish. The Beast leaves the ranger behind to advance on the legendary. There, MATIAS SILPH stands in her way. The blood of an Elite Four would taste sweeter on the tongue than the other Leaguers she's battled. One more, not for the glory of Rocket, but to satisfy her own taste blood . . . And hers. The Ultra ball hums in anticipation at her side. She's hungry.
Somehow, the Beast survives, but she's certainly found herself a little rough for ware. She reappears up on the hill, a bit further from fighting for a chance to recover. The Shadow Gardevoir settles beside her as she leans against and slides down the trunk of a tree. Each deep breath is excruciating, sharp pain that shoots up her left side and settles in her shoulder. She can feel the bruises forming tight against her skin. Broken ribs, no doubt, "Fuck," she coughs, resting her head against the trunk, thankful for the brief reprise. She knows it won't last long. Her amber gaze fixes on the theater. What happens next?
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