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Sleep With the Fish (Postdormitum)

POSTED ON Apr 23, 2023 0:41:16 GMT

[attr="class","samjertop"][attr="class","samjer"]

[attr="class","samjermain"]

Well, it appeared she was dealing with a psychopath .

Still, she did not "What is artistic about this?" Lydia frowns at the corpse. Its head is long gone--rolled away in a feeding frenzy. "It is death, not the painting of a master." She murmured a prayer beneath her breath before turning to Dorian her full attention.

A tourist, hm? That sounded foolish. More than likely, a lie. "There is no need to be flippant." She sighed. Her gloved hand lifted to clutch her pendant. "I am here on different business, I believe."

She saw the hound's throat tense. "Triton!" Its long muzzle jerked up as the seahorse turned to his trainer. Though he kicked back, it was not enough to spare him the kick of the smog. Where he snorted it, veins of purple spread like fire.

"I will take that as confirmation." She gestured forward, the Kingdra only happy to throw out an attack of his own. At point blank range, he figured a Hydro Pump would do the trick.

[attr="class","samjer","samjertag"]

[attr="class","samjerpoke"]

dorian westcliff

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Sleep With the Fish (Postdormitum)

POSTED ON Apr 23, 2023 0:32:19 GMT

[attr="class","samjertop"][attr="class","samjer"]

[attr="class","samjermain"]

When the man called out for attention, the blonde frowned. His tone did not indicate sympathy nor judgment. He seemed almost happy. "It is not." She wrinkled her nose. "Whomever did this was certainly...barbaric."

The woman shared a glance with her Kingdra. "Triton." The Kingdra drove her upward until she hovered just before the pathway. " From his side, she stepped into the aether proper.

Her small height now much more pronounced, she resembled a Barbie dressed up in her brother's GI Joe gear. But the gun was worn and the shots in the corpse's head were frighteningly accurate.

She offered a nod to the Houndoom. Only then did she turn to its trainer. "Are you part of the collapse?" She paused. Something on this man-made her shudder. "Or are you simply...lost?" Which, morally, at least, she supposed all Rockets were.

[attr="class","samjer","samjertag"]

[attr="class","samjerpoke"]

dorian westcliff

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Sleep With the Fish (Postdormitum)

POSTED ON Apr 23, 2023 0:28:33 GMT

[attr="class","samjertop"][attr="class","samjer"]

[attr="class","samjermain"]

The rift expanded without warning two or three hours ago. Half a city block--filled with refugees--fell into it. Her spine was now covered in what seemed to be fines. Two thin horns jutted from just behind her ears, resembling those of the Kingdra that floated beside her.

After a long day staining her hands red, the blonde felt grateful for these rescue operations. Even if some of the civilians looked horrific. These missions reminded her why she tossed herself back into this fire.

"Clear." Lydia murmured into her walkie talkie, holstering her gun. Around her lay the corpses of Veluza and Sharpedo. Someone had left a Dracovish rotting on the walkway above.. "All civilians accounted for, sir."

Suddenly, as Dorian drifted by, the Lycanroc at her side rumbled in her chest. A split-second warning.

[attr="class","samjer","samjertag"]

[attr="class","samjerpoke"]

dorian westcliff

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triage [postdormitum]

POSTED ON Apr 22, 2023 13:11:28 GMT

[attr="class","samjertop"][attr="class","samjer"]

[attr="class","samjermain"]

On her third pass, Lydia encountered a group of Rocket medics. They were on their way to deliver supplies to a nearby base. Fortunately, the doctors were not foolish enough to put up a fight. One look at her gun and Minerva’s wrinkled muzzle brought them to the floor. Surprisingly gentle in her orders, the blonde bound and guided them back to HQ. Once the hostages were properly secured, the blonde reentered the caves.

People needed those supplies—regardless of which side they were on. As she rounded a corner, a growl from her Lycanroc made Lydia pause. A hand dropped to the gun at her side as she pressed closer to the wall. Lifting a finger for silence, she sidled along the wall until she could view the cavern. From her vantage point, she saw Gideon bent over the boxes—obviously injured. Returning the safety on her firearm, Lydia and Minerva moved into the cave proper. Commercials for the museum played through her mind. Interviews with its curator flashed through her mind.

She coughed to make her presence known, hoping not to add a heart attack on top of this man’s other woes. “Excuse me, sir.” As always her voice was chill with clear enunciation. Her back and posture were perfectly straight, resembling something militaristic. “I'm not sure those swabs will be enough.” A hand reached up to remove her helmet, hoping to be less intimidating. Though, at just five-foot tall with the build of a muscular porcelain doll, that was rarely a problem. “There is a checkpoint ahead.” The alcohol swabs drew her attention. “Treating yourself there would likely be more…sanitary.”

For her part, Minerva approaches the dark-haired man. Injured or not, her bright blue eyes stare at him with piercing intent. She sniffs the air around him, nose wrinkling at the stinging scent of alcohol.

[attr="class","samjer","samjertag"]

[attr="class","samjerpoke"]

GIDEON GRAVES

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Bring it Full Circle of Life [M][O]

POSTED ON Apr 18, 2023 0:59:54 GMT

[attr="class","samjertop"][attr="class","samjer"]

[attr="class","samjermain"]

If Faelynn voiced such thoughts aloud, Lydia would have colored. In her original family emotions were something to be controlled. While expressing them was allowed, tantrums and outrageous displays were not. No doubt Father would be angry if he saw the look of disgust she tossed at the Cramorant and the Sharpedo swirling just outside her Kingdra’s range.

Instead, she remained somewhat stoic. Her chin dipped in a nod of acknowledgment. “It is barbaric.” The blonde sighed. “But it is as Arceus intended.” The young man’s other words proceeded uninterrupted. A small smile appeared on her lips. While she knew many of their lives would end shortly, the idea of one surviving was more than enough. Then, of course, she could rest knowing that she had done her part. She did not sit blindly by while another creature lost its life.

“You are correct, of course.” Lydia sighed, a sad smile lit up her life. “But, to one turtle, it’s world-changing.” When she thought Fox was distracted, the veteran gave the little swimmers a wave. But, before the gesture stopped, the world erupted in feathers and shrieks. Apparently, the birds weren’t interested in going somewhere else. Not when they could have turtle soup via buffet.

“Damnit!” Swearing under her breath, Lydia raced back up the beach to another nest. Minerva could be trusted to handle herself. She moved to assist Heimdall. The little Riolu had been knocked into the sand by an angry Pelipper’s wing, ending up face down in the wet sand. Jerking him up, the veteran shifted a foot to stand over the nest. “Heimdall.” With balled little fists, the pup released a Vacuum Wave onto the flock around him.

The birds were sent careening into one another, honks and shrieks of annoyance erupting. Blue eyes briefly flickered to her other Pokemon. “Are you all right?” She shouted above the cacophony to Fox. A few birds had flown off when their most courageous companion got wrinkled like a chicken. Most of them just hopped backward, throwing wind-based attacks on the tank of a turtle.

The air around her nests was now filled with rotating shards of stone. Though not as sturdy as Inari, her body managed to provide a shield against the turtles poking out beneath her. “AWWOOOO!” She howled at the sky. Then, her claws unleashed a fury of paws and teeth upon the birds.

[attr="class","samjer","samjertag"]

[attr="class","samjerpoke"]

faelan foxgrove

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POSTED ON Apr 16, 2023 23:15:57 GMT

[attr="class","samjertop"][attr="class","samjer"]

[attr="class","samjermain"]

The young woman’s defeatist comment drew up a tow eyebrow. Even with the obvious humor encapsulating it, Lydia found it bewildering. When she spoke, confusion tinted her words. “Glory days?” A brief moment of hesitation followed as Lydia pondered how best to ask this question. “Are you not too…young for those?” Certainly a child detective could become an adult detective. Was it just difficult to no longer be special?

“Perhaps—” Before Lydia could make a selection—likely asking for an important case—a trembling male voice butted in. When the soldier turned to face its source, she found Russell awkwardly wringing his hands.“I—uh—I’d prefer something less…violent.” Russell swallowed nervously. “We are walking into a—a warzone. I think a bit of humor might be welcome.” The Joltik on his shoulder emerged from his shirt’s collar, nuzzling his cheek. Already, nervous sweat stained his top.

Lydia nodded after a moment—hiding her disappointment beneath her glacial mask. “I am curious about how you got wound up with such work.” While she’d read Nancy Drew growing up, laws and regulations seemed set against such things. Detective work was difficult for adults—much less wide-eyed children.

The peaceful surroundings seemed almost too good to be true. “It should.” Though, even as she attempts to comfort Russell, her icy eyes sweep suspiciously across the battlefield. “Keep an eye out, regardless.” Her nose wrinkled—almost rabbit-like. “Rats have a way of slipping past enemy lines.” And, as a freshly bandaged arm shows, they also do a decent job of sneaking past a person’s defenses.

Notes

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[attr="class","samjer","samjertag"]

[attr="class","samjerpoke"]

Elaine Highland

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Internightmare [postdormitum]

POSTED ON Apr 16, 2023 22:21:22 GMT

[attr="class","samjertop"][attr="class","samjer"]

[attr="class","samjermain"]

Though neither could see the other, Lydia stared down the black bubble with a fiery determination. It was a look that made her enemies laugh. A mistake rarely made twice.

Her fingers stroked the butt of her gun, trying to ground her nerves in its familiar grip. But voices whispered in her ear, the last words of long-fallen enemies. These she managed to shove mostly out of her mind. None of this is real. Remember the debriefing. Her eyes flickered briefly to the dogs at her side, trusting the surety of their senses much more than her own.

“Do not sound so smug.” The blonde pressed her lips into a thin line. “I was not trying to hide.” Ariadne continued in her childish taunts. Implications of cowardice ruffled the soldier’s figurative feathers. A trait which had left her nose bloodied and cheeks flush with embarrassmetnt more times than she could count. And, while she outgrew childish taunts, pride still clutched her in its talons. When she spoke, her voice held an icy chill. “Nor was I running.” At her side, sensing a change in the air, Minerva growls.

A realm of imagination did not strike Lydia as intimidating. It sounded like something out of a low-budget children’s show. Perhaps a quote from a Willy Wonka adaptation. “That does not set the bar very high.” The Leaguer quips as the area around them begins to shift. Letting her sense of balance preserve her, Lydia lowers her torso to ensure she stays upright.

Then, the Porygon-Z erupts onto the field. Its chaotic thoughts twisting the landscape around them into something out of a casino advertisement. Lydia grits as her teeth as she does her best to ignore the tricks the normal-type plays on her. The screeching, meanwhile, hurts Minerva’s sensitive ears. These flatten against the wolf’s head as it shares a glance with its trainer. Lydia nod.

With a howl, Minerva dashes towards the Porygon-Z in a blur. The Accelrock looking to knock it out of the skies. Around her, a moon begins to form in the discoteque sky.

In an attempt to block out the Porygon-Z’s cacophony, Lydia digs in her memories for a noise of her own. The air swells with music—her mother and father’s wedding song. SOmething they’d danced to in the living room a hundred times, But these memories bring with them less pleasant ones. The dragonic shape behind her seems to ripple, bright white eyes glowing in the rippled mess that might be a face.

Notes

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Mention Realm Paranoia +10 MP
Lycanroc uses Accelrock on Porygon-Z

[attr="class","samjer","samjertag"]

[attr="class","samjerpoke"]

ARIADNE MAUCH

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POSTED ON Apr 13, 2023 8:13:26 GMT

[attr="class","samjertop"][attr="class","samjer"]

[attr="class","samjermain"]

While her face remained neutral, the mistake brought color to Lydia’s cheek. Which, on her porcelain skin, stood out like a lighthouse in a dark sea. “I see.” Though she did not need the comprehensive explanation—being quite well-read and a fan of thriller novels—the blonde did not move to correct Elaine. No doubt other people would find the concept confusing. “If there is time, I would like to hear about your work.” Hopefully, Russell would find the conversation some sort of comfort. Then again, judging by his general demeanor, the feeling of ease seemed foreign to him.

In response to the well wishes, the man clutched more securely at his worn leather briefcase. “The—my—the pleasure is all mine, M-miss Highland.” A nervous hand lifted to adjust his foggy glasses. While a bit out of sorts, he seemed willing to follow them to the rendezvous point. Both women seemed capable in their own rights, even if he’d have preferred a tank or an entire battalion. Then again, that would probably make people pay more attention to him.

Lydia would not admit it, but the fights made her feel more at ease. After years on the frontlines, the sudden quiet of her life left her a bit twitchy. While she’d adapted, the feeling of wrong always resurfaced. The pot boiling over finally relieved the tension. Today, though not perfect, made her feel the opposite of powerless. Perhaps a bit guilty and worn out but the farthest thing from helpless.

As they set out across town, Lydia lifted a hand to the amulet around her neck. Beneath her breath, she murmured a prayer for an uneventful trip. “The path ahead should be clear. HQ sent a combat squad ahead.” Some part of her—one she kept caged and chained—almost found that disappointing.

Notes

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[attr="class","samjer","samjertag"]

[attr="class","samjerpoke"]

Elaine Highland

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locked and loaded pt. ii [postdormitum]

POSTED ON Apr 12, 2023 9:25:32 GMT

[attr="class","samjertop"][attr="class","samjer"]

[attr="class","samjermain"]

Her smile was as friendly as the wolf beside her. Obviously, Inigo—nor his tendency to cut out consonants—had not impressed. “How kind.” Lydia sniffed. The gun rotated in her hand as she briefly checked her rounds. “Remember I did the same.” She took a deep breath as she squared herself.

Then, with two bursts of light, the battle began. A brief glance and nod were shared between the two as the Lucario turned to its opponent. “Heimdall.” A bone appeared in his arms. This he threw at the lizard’s bone, sending it careening harmlessly off the path. As soon as he threw it, the canine’s fists lit up with twin circles of aura. With a howl, he rushed the Marowak, aiming to slam into it with an aura sphere.

While this was going on, the wolf tossed out a stealth rock. The area around the Druddigon was filled with sharp stones—another layer of spiky protection. Her trainer noticed the gun raising and scowled. A flickering blue barrier began to grow. Two could play at that game. “Minerva.” A yellow-green barrier began to flicker up between them, though Quick Guard wasn’t very quick to erect. With a snarl, the hound rocketed forward in a flurry of stone and blurring motion. This allowed her to avoid the Stomping Tantrum. She moved to zigzag between the Aggron and Tyranitar in an Accelerock before either could get off another move. A nice bit of chip damage to start things off.

BANG! The Druddigon hunched over his box like the stereotypical hoarding dragon. The bullet hit its mark, sending a spike from its shoulder spinning to the ground. The beast snarled as its eyes narrowed to pinpricks. It roared. “GRRRRAWR!” From the earth behind it, three ancient balls of stone were called forth. These—since they couldn’t hurt the shooter—were brought in around the sides of the barrier, aiming to take out their anger on one of the two bruisers opposite.

Lydia took a single step back. The gun in her arm remained locked and loaded.

Notes

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[attr="class","samjer","samjertag"]

[attr="class","samjerpoke"]

Inigo del Rosario

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Tooth and Nail [Postdormitium]

POSTED ON Apr 12, 2023 8:56:43 GMT

[attr="class","samjertop"][attr="class","samjer"]

[attr="class","samjermain"]

Blue eyes narrowed slightly as the man began to speak. The icy mask she wore spoke of disbelief and judgment. Though, in truth, it happened to be the face she made while thinking. A fact that strangers were slow to catch on to. Most of them responded either with teasing or a general sense of intimidation. But, in Shred’s case, neither was needed.

Always the type to be heroic, Lydia immediately empathized with the blonde. Thousands of hapless civilians had fallen through the cracks in the extradimensional fabric. Children cried for their parents, clinging to beat-up Pokedolls in the middle of a warzone. Though the accent seemed strange, many people suffered speech impediments without being malicious. Though she reminded herself every civilian could be an enemy operative, refusing them help was difficult.

Which is why she made a decision to assist this strange man in his search. Though she did feel a need to mention a point of contention in the man’s choice of words. “The leash?” Her nose gave a bunny wrinkle. Pokemon were equals—things to be respected like the gods who created all. They were not to be tethered outside like a Rapidash at a rodeo or an unruly child. Brushing aside this philosophical difference (and the odd accent), she tried to focus on what was important.

The words used sounded like a euphemism, but people spoke so strangely. A ball was tossed at the ground.

“Heimdall. Find his…little guy.” A Lucario appeared near a large crystal, its eyes glowing red. He nodded to his trainer and friend. “He will handle the search for your friend.” She tried her best comforting smile. The dog saluted before beginning his investigation. “But we need to get you out of here.” The sound of battle—echoing around the tunnels in a cacophony—became apparent before it was snuffed out with a scream. “This place is dangerous.”

Minerva growled as her trainer turned to begin the trek back to the checkpoint. The sound was easily translated: ’ And, if you try any shit, so am I.’

Notes

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[attr="class","samjer","samjertag"]

[attr="class","samjerpoke"]

Shred

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POSTED ON Apr 12, 2023 2:26:22 GMT

[attr="class","samjertop"][attr="class","samjer"]

[attr="class","samjermain"]

Behind the blond, a man in spectacles stood. His general demeanor reminded Lydia of a Kecleon—a chubby creature looking to disappear into background noise. In terms of protection, he possessed little. Just a simple Kevlar vest. The Joltik on his shoulder seemed solely suited for moral support. Fortunately, the escortee proved himself obedient. No tantrums or complaints are to be heard.

The bow received a nod in response. “I believe the pleasure is mine, Ms. Highland.” While not skilled at ice breaking, Lydia knew trust would be important for the journey ahead. Building a relationship of some kind would lay the foundation for such things. She’d also always been interested in police work. “What precinct do you work with?” Considering her earlier partners, this young woman was a welcome change. At the very least, Lydia doubted he would use an impending apocalypse to ogle her behinds or patronize her every decision. The man behind them murmured something that may have been a greeting into his striped scarf.

In hopes of calming him down—mostly to prevent him from springing off like an anxious Bunnelby—Lydia offered him a small smile. Whether or not this had the desired effect was difficult to ascertain. As, instead of replying, he merely began to study his feet. When the Gallade drew too close, he shuffled forward like a scorned child. “Russell has some vital information about the war front.” Unfortunately, sending it across the waves posed a security risk.

The Ceruledge received a greeting of her own. Though it’s typing ave the veteran the heebie-jeebies. The battlefield was no place to react like a scared child. Turning to walk ahead, putting Russell between her and Elaine, Lydia set off toward their destination. The question was met with a sigh. “It has been one thing after another, unfortunately.” She took a deep breath. “But it is nice to feel needed again.”

Notes

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[attr="class","samjer","samjertag"]

[attr="class","samjerpoke"]

Elaine Highland

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POSTED ON Apr 9, 2023 16:22:20 GMT

[attr="class","blbqimg"]
[attr="class","bisc"]Lydia found this night to be the embodiment of chaos and heartbreak. One woman earlier died after an unfortunate squabble left the veteran with no choice but to plant a blade between her ribs. A conflict in the crystal cave had been equally as tiring. Now, she’d been transported to Dewford for what amounted to an escort mission.

Important information needed to get across the battlefield of Dewford. Or, at least, a person with said information. After a briefing from her current superior, Lydia set out to the assigned meeting point. In her brief downtime, she’d swapped out her bloodied uniform for a clean one. A quick scrub had removed the imprint of blood from her face—though she could still feel it. But she’d been in enough battles to know how long that would take to fade.

Behind her, the newest member of her team walked—a large Gallade with a somewhat sour expression. Though no sense of trust had been established, they were quick to pick up on one another’s feelings. Much like her, he wore a bulletproof vest. After the previous skirmishes, she’d given her two canines a respite inside their balls. Allowing them to get hurt because she was more comfortable with them was the epitome of selfishness.

Reaching the assigned meeting point, Lydia knocked on the tent’s pole before entering. “Good afternoon, Miss Highland.” Lydia swallowed a yawn. Nodded instead. “HQ requested an escort.” She adjusted her vest slightly, knowing the tight fit was as essential as it was annoying.

She offered her best comforting smile. It was not a good one. “I’m Lydia.” She then turned toward the towering form of the Gallade. “This is Hermes.” One bladed arm swept in a low bow as crimson eyes slipped closed.

“Are you ready to head out?”

Notes

+10 MP for post
+ 50 MP for thread start
Elaine Highland
☉

KERBOROS | ♂︎ | ROUGH SKIN | SCRATCH, BITE, DRAGONTAIL, DRAGON CLAW, OUTRAGE, SUPER POWER

[attr="class","bisc"]

[newclass=.bisc b] color: #E1EFFF; font-size: 10px; letter-spacing: .5px; [/newclass][newclass=.bisc i] color: #E1EFFF; font-size: 10px; letter-spacing: .5px; [/newclass]

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Internightmare [postdormitum]

POSTED ON Apr 9, 2023 15:59:50 GMT

[attr="class","blbqimg"]
[attr="class","bisc"] In this realm of dream, Lydia was glad for her general lack of imagination. While unnerved by the swirling around her, she managed to remain mostly grounded. At her side, a Lucario and Lycanroc walked. Or, at least, they had.

As soon as they’d disappeared into the clouds, the trio had chosen to split up, in hopes of flanking their target. Who, judging by her black bubble, was currently visually impaired. A fact that made Lydia reluctant to attack her.

It felt underhanded. Something her patron deities would frown upon. Action not in line with Arceus’s wishes for the world. But that did not mean she would not do it if it became necessary. A moral quandary was no reason to allow millions to suffer at the hands of these terrorists.

The taunting from behind drew a frown. This was war, not a game of hide-and-seek. It also announced her presence to other combatants—generally ill-advised on the battlefield. Even as she continued forward, looking for an advantageous vantage point, the soldier found herself tracking the other woman’s voice. When a second set of taunts emerged, the veteran turned Being unnerved by sound tricks was beneath her. Her pride was insulted. She was not hiding.

And, as she learned a long-time ago, the best way to deal with monsters under your bed—or in a trippy realm of nightmares—was to face them directly. Allowing her boots to echo, Lydia turned back to face her opponent. “I do not want to hurt you.” A pause followed these words as a familiar blue eye caught hers in the swirling maelstrom. “But I will if you force my hand.” She tapped her fingers against her gun holster.

Lugia protects us. That simple prayer seemed to set the smoke behind her swirling. But the childhood encounter and the true creature were not one and the same.

In the distance, something elephantine trumpeted.

Notes

+50 MP for thread start
+ 10 MP for post

ARIADNE MAUCH
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Dyfalu

Lyds

She/Her

May 12

Goldenrod City

Heterosexual

Unemployed

Cadet

27 height

Victory Runs in My Veins

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locked and loaded pt. ii [postdormitum]

POSTED ON Apr 9, 2023 15:36:33 GMT

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[attr="class","bisc"]While against theft and underhandedness in general, Lydia could not allow terrorists to retain control of dangerous objects. Before subduing them, she allowed them a chance to surrender. They did not. Now, they lay on the ground. All but one operative were still breathing. That one had attempted to choke her out and received a knife between the ribs for her troubles. The rest marked for the prisoner squad. "I wish you luck."

When Inigo turned the corner, he’d be greeted by a young woman. A gun clenched familiarly in her hands with two canid Pokemon at her side. Currently hefting up the box was a spikeball of a Druddigon. Its soldiers hunched protectively around its cargo, a spiny cage around what intel said were canisters of poison gas. A growl from this beast made Lydia turn toward the interloper.

Immediately, the hounds at her side took a step forward. An aura sphere crackled in the paws of the newly evolved Lucario. The Lycanroc, meanwhile, drew obsidian nails against the ground. Sparks flew from her hands. Lydia, meanwhile, wrinkled her nose. “I’m not your cuz.” The porcelain doll stated calmly. The blood on her hand at odds with both her stature and face. “And your sarcasm is pointless.” They may be guilty about what was to happen, but neither were sorry.

“The box remains where it is.” The gun jerked to the right. “Move, Rocket.” Battle was easier when you reduced enemies to stereotypes. The nasty, immoral terrorist. The mad dogs of Silace and harbingers of war. Not fathers. Not sisters. Fairytale monsters. The masks made it easier. “Now.”

Notes

+50 MP for thread start
+10 MP for post

Inigo del Rosario

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close tab

played by

Dyfalu

Lyds

She/Her

May 12

Goldenrod City

Heterosexual

Unemployed

Cadet

27 height

Victory Runs in My Veins

awards

327 posts

DOLLARS

part of

TAG WITH @lydiamagnusson