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Dyfalu
Madd
She/Her
27
April 1
Circester
Asexual
Tackle Shop Manager
Grunt
Someone's always criticizing. You might as well do what the fuck you want.
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280 posts
DOLLARS
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TAG WITH @maddmckenna
Madeline McKenna
Chum Bucket [DW]
POSTED ON Apr 27, 2024 15:25:19 GMT
[attr="class","samjertop"][attr="class","samjer"] [attr="class","samjermain"]  The redhead just sighed. “That mindset worries me.” It really did. “I wonder where they get it from.” But she’d sent pictures to her shitty exe before. More than a couple of them. Not that she ever understood why he wanted them. Before she figured out she was ace, it just felt like men were weird (and some women too). Fortunately, she wasn’t embarrassed if a few tit pics circulated out there. It was just some fat with a nip on it.Madd wondered if she was right to give up the Toxapex so easily. Sure it seemed aggressive, but its coloration was pretty outside the norm. But one look at the water erased that notion. Among the ink of the Octillery, she could see something noxious in the water. A gift from the spiky creature’s deadly spikes. The pond had enough garbage without tossing whatever this was in the mix. At sudden commotion, the Rocket turned toward the Dottler. She thought it was kind of cute, in a weird, child’s drawing kind of rose. A brow rose as the weird herb ball was tossed its way. Shows you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, Madeline. Apparently, this knockout powerhouse liked bugs with sparkly eyes. As the thing vanished, Madd nodded at Desiree. “That’s a pretty neat trick. I’ll have to try it sometime.” Not that her sausage fingers were deft enough to weave anything together. There was a reason she’d never mastered needlepoint. “I can see why. Atmosphere’s probably different.” People at clubs had things to do other than stare at you. A victim of chronic stage fright, Madd was just fine letting other people hog the limelight. “Not really a club person myself.” Too much music and jiving for her. Give her a crappy old bar any day. At least people weren’t slinging drugs like nerds tried to sling playing cards. Yakuza grabbed her shoulder and pointed to a flash of red beyond the waterfall. Her lips perked up. A Crawdaunt was perfect for the pond. Sure, so was the Starmie beneath the water, but those things kind of creeped her out. Just an empty red abyss to peer into. Probably end up with something worse staring back. Like an incel. “Grab the crab, bud. But be nice.” With a look of trepidation at the waterfall, the Obstagoon moved to do what he was told. With a shudder, he dipped himself and his gelled-up mohawk into the icy water. His hair fell into a mess of bangs as he vanished. Instead of fighting, a conversation ensued. “It means I sell fishing stuff. Hooks, rods, bait—all that jazz.” It definitely wasn’t her dream job. “Owner’s about to croak, so I end up doing all the stocking too.” Though she tried to seem callous about it, that statement left a tremor to her voice. Sure, he stared at her boobs, but the old guy had given her a chance. He didn’t look at her style and think she was a delinquent (which she was). Instead, the guy said he reminded her of his granddaughter who died in Kanto. Double awkward. A minute later, the Obstagoon emerged beside the clicking claws of a Crawdaunt. The thing looked up at Madd and then shrugged. It then grinned. “Do I even want to know what you—” Yakuza looked away awkwardly. “I’ll take that as a no.” Luckily, her Pokeball hit the thing straight on. She didn’t want to embarrass herself in front of the airy fairy here. [attr="class","samjerpoke"]       |
