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familiar faces [social]

POSTED ON Dec 14, 2022 20:39:32 GMT

GIDEON GRAVES likes this

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"Giddy," John replied, setting down the now empty glass with a soft tink, "don't you know that any drink you have to sip isn't a drink at all?"

He met Gideon's faux frustration with exaggerated ignorance. A roll of his eyes accompanied the words and he even went so far as to stick out his tongue once they were out. Of course, his own performance broke when Gideon's did. His smile and question earned an equally -- if not brighter -- smile from John.

"I guess you'll just have to keep tracking me down and plying me with drinks."

With a great sigh he draped himself over the bar top.

"What a horrible lot for us both."

[newclass=.samcam] [/newclass][newclass=.samcam b] color: #C4AD87; font-size: 12px; letter-spacing: .5px; [/newclass][newclass=.samcam i] color: #C4AD87; font-size: 12px; letter-spacing: .5px; [/newclass][newclass=.samcam u] text-decoration: none;border-bottom: dashed 1px #C4AD87; font-size: 12px; letter-spacing: .5px; [/newclass][newclass=.samcam a] text-transform:uppercase!important;font:800 15px Poppins!important; [/newclass]

GIDEON GRAVES

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Dance the Night Away [Masque]

POSTED ON Dec 14, 2022 20:33:34 GMT

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It's hard to tell if it's the beginning of a buzz from the sazerac or the rare experience of having someone flatter him, but John's cheeks go a bit pink as the younger woman speaks. What is with kids and being nice to him today? First that blond and now Juno.

"Well then, I'll do my best to stick to misdemeanors. No felony charges for me tonight," he mumbles, eyes still fixed on the ground but voice attempting to affect some level of levity. As the conversation spins on he does his best to follow in more ways than one. John knows waltzes aren't supposed to be straight back and forth so he does his best to lead his lady-of-the-moment into a turn. It's ugly and off beat but he does manage not to stomp on her toes in the process.

Once it's completed 'successfully' he feels daring enough to look up and confirm the state of Juno's hair before replying.

"I mean, it looks good to me?" he offers with a smile, "I don't know much about hair but I had friends who used to wear theirs kind of like that for concerts. Always thought it looked rad."

It's a good choice of response because it leads easily into the next. What he does for fun.

"Not a lot of time for it, but I try to fit in my hobbies. I keep up with the pro circuit -- for battling -- and sometimes squeeze in time for music if I'm lucky."

For some reason it feels improper to talk at length about other forms of entertainment. Drunken nights with the department and other less savory things. This place is too pretty for discussion of activities so depressing.

Xiura Balfaltin

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help me, please [mission]

POSTED ON Dec 13, 2022 22:31:55 GMT

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creampunk: no no i agree
creampunk: magic is sick

Honestly, John had been disappointed in the lack of features he'd noticed since booting up the game. Which maybe wasn't fair! Considering he wasn't even high enough level to make it from one starter zone to the next without crying for someone to come save him. The more he thought about his experience with the game so far the more astounded he was that he hadn't inferred the fact he'd missed something massive.

creampunk: and unlike you i have an appreciation for the classics
creampunk: so i will be happily embracing my future as a fire mage
creampunk: or spellsword or w/e you call someone who likes magic with a bit of melee on the side

From there his focus flipped from the chat box to the other player's avatar as he did his best to stay on top of gallowsCalibrator as they led him back into town. There were several places he recognized on the way back: the potion shop where he'd got one for free (drank in desperation before he was saved) and the guild house that gave him his first quest (which he was only able to half finish before he needed the aforementioned saving).

When gallowsCalibrator did finally stop in front of the blacksmith, however, John forgave himself a little for overlooking the NPC. For someone so vital he sure was just kind of shoved into a corner.

creampunk: ah man thanks

John quickly sent with a bowing emoji.

creampunk: oh ****
creampunk: yeah that makes sense
creampunk: that zone you found me in
creampunk: is out the opposite gate they wanted me to leave through

The Blacksmith asked him to go out the East Gate and fight five Wyrmple -- monsters a good two levels lower than the Cubolds that had sicced the Marowrath on him.

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kepler brueshaber

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POSTED ON Dec 13, 2022 22:16:32 GMT

Martín del Mar likes this

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John doesn't waste any time opening the door. MC is already trying to reach past him to open the door and those claws don't discriminate between wood and cloth -- he'd prefer not to have to shell out who knows how much more PD to replace his work slacks.

"Well, shit," John sighs the moment he sees the room, the debris scattered all over, and the source of the debris. He was really hoping something . . . else? Had happened? Already he's doing a mental tally of how many more gifts he's going to need to wrap to make up for this bit of mischief.

"Of course it's the Meowth," he continues, walking into the supply closet with his hands on his hips.

The Meowth are the bank's beloved mascots and important team members who help in community outreach. They're also Meowth and that means they're capricious and impish and -- gods does he know -- fully capable of this kind of ridiculousness. Honestly, John's a bit disappointed in himself for not guessing it was them from the start.

"If I'm being frank, I'm shocked it took them this many years to pull something like this."

With another put-upon sigh he stands underneath the open vent and looks up into its dark interior. MC snuffles about around his feet and tears up some more wrapping paper.

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Dance the Night Away [Masque]

POSTED ON Dec 11, 2022 21:49:12 GMT

Locke Jamison, Xiura Balfaltin, and 1 more like this

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John associates dancing with delighted squeals and spirited screams. With hot bodies in a dense press, flailing limbs, bruises and busted lips. Loud music and communal catharsis. That is not at all what the young lady holding his hand leads him towards.

Which isn't a surprise, right? But it is another way John finds himself totally out of his depth here at this party.

"I mean, it would be rude to say no, right?" John replies with a less tremulous smile than he'd offered before -- at least that's something to be said for the calmer, less crowded dance floor; less anxiety over potentially bumping a council member -- before taking a sip of his sazerac. The warmth of the whiskey is a comfort. The rest of it . . . he could probably do without. Sorry Giddy.

"Yeah, these kinds of dances aren't my scene," he admits, taking another drink, "and really, don't feel like you need to be polite on my behalf. This is just whatever was kicking around in the back of my closet. I uh . . . was convinced this invitation was a postal error until pretty much this morning."

Not that John's ever known Locke Jamison to make that kind of mistake, but it made more sense than 'office worker gets invited to the biggest event of the season'.

As they draw from the peripheries of the dance floor and towards the true body of it he throws back the rest of his drink and quickly slides the now empty tumbler across the table Juno leaves her glass on. He lets himself be tugged and looks around the floor for a hint as to what they're doing out here. Waltzing. Ah, fuck.

"You can call me uh . . ." Are they doing fake names? Juno seems to want to do fake names, and he can't bring himself to break out of the fun frame she's placing everything in, "Johnny?"

That's just his name isn't it?

He can't help the way he looks to the ceiling imploringly. Why wasn't he born with a little more brains for moments like this? It's a self-deprecating gesture that lasts only a moment before he takes a breath and steels himself to push forward. He looks down at the young woman in front of him and does his best to pull her into something resembling proper dance posture. Lifting their connected hands and using his other to gently -- watching her face to ensure it's okay all the while -- grip her waist.

"And uh, you also look lovely. Sorry, I'm terrible at this -- the small talk, I think terrible might be too tame a word for my dancing," he mumbles, eyes staring at her feet to make sure he doesn't step on them, "your dress is a very nice purple and the way you've braided your hair into those buns is sweet."

Xiura Balfaltin

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WINTER MASQUERADE [Holiday Event]

POSTED ON Dec 10, 2022 19:27:48 GMT

kepler brueshaber, Xiura Balfaltin, and 1 more like this

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Having Gideon there to ground him momentarily really does do wonders for John's anxiety. All the more so when he knows it's why Gideon came to talk to him. There's no fresh nerves over whether he's distracting his friend from having fun or pulling him away from something to save him. Just the comfort associated with someone caring enough to check in.

"Really, Giddy, thanks," he says gently before turning to the young man still hanging off his arm.

There's a bit more comfort drawn from the fact that the stranger isn't some big shot, and that he doesn't recognize the name floated to him. Of course John would never be so rude as to vocalize those thoughts -- no one wants to feel like they're small time -- but it's good to know he's not talking to Melody Miro 's brother or something.

"Orchestras are cool! Not my style, but maybe you've got some records more up my alley or uh . . . the DJing? Electronic stuff isn't really my -- anyway," The music is starting and Niky is pulling away. John doesn't have time to ramble if he's going to be polite, "I work in data entry and my name is uh . . ."

Part of the spirit of this party is discretion, right? So he leans in a little closer so he can tell the young man his name without exposing his "secret" identity to everyone.

"John, my name is John. Kinda boring, right? See you for a dance later, I guess."

He sees the boy off with a pat on the back before turning back to Gideon -- right in time for someone new to float into view. A woman this time. Pretty. Certainly having put much more work into her look than John. Again he gets an unpleasant butterfly sensation in his stomach as she asks for a dance. Unfortunately, when he looks to Gideon this time his friend is on the way out -- smiling and joking as he turns to go.

"I'll try to squeeze you in!" he calls after Gideon's retreating back, not-so-secretly affecting more humor than he truly has in him. He turns back to the woman who's just approached and wipes his hands on his pants.

"Yeah, sure, a dance? I can do that," he finally replies, "just one second."

The bar is right there so John takes a few steps, stammers out the name of that fancy drink Gideon had sold him on, and then hurries back. He even manages to avoid spilling the drink -- so long as one doesn't count a few splashes on their own fingers as spilling. He licks the outside of the glass to prevent any more dribbling. The bite of whiskey, offset by something sweet, coats his tongue.

"Do we just uh . . ." John questions when he returns no more than a few seconds later, extending his unoccupied hand awkwardly.

notes: feel free to start our dance thread, or message me and I can!

PROMPT 6: Just on his fingers

GIDEON GRAVES
Niky Racz
Xiura Balfaltin

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is this gardening? [mission]

POSTED ON Dec 10, 2022 18:01:46 GMT

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There's a reflexive something that flares up in response to Cian's words. 'I get that.' -- that something wants to immediately spit in reply: 'I doubt that.'

After all how could he? He's living the thing John dreams of.

It's a nasty, bitter habit. Unfair. And one he's, thankfully, familiar with enough that he squashes it before he actually says something regrettable to this kid already struggling with so much. The only tell is the flicker of a falter in John's smile. A momentary frown that vanishes as quickly as it arrives.

He moves on to make sure it stays gone.

"Definitely not berry picking, yeah," he can't dredge up a laugh for Cian's joke and kicks himself internally for it, "Mostly I work. Data entry for a bank. It keeps me busy."

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CIAN MAHER

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POSTED ON Dec 9, 2022 23:54:49 GMT

Martín del Mar likes this

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"Any Zangoose that makes MC look nice . . . I think I'll take your word for it," John laughs, awkward and nervous. MC is difficult on a good day. Any pokemon more unruly than her, he isn't fated for.

At the same time he gives MC another scratch between the ears. Said ears twitch, then flatten, then perk up as the Espeon starts scenting a trail. Not one to be completely outdone, MC slips out from under John's hand and -- thank the gods, holy shit doesn't start a fight -- runs after the Espeon. Almost like a child trailing behind a sibling, anxious not to be left behind. MC follows Delphi through the office and John follows MC.

Occasional curious comments from workers are silenced by John with a wink and a finger to his lips. A quick miming of typing: 'just focus on your work, Abby, we both know you've got some catching up to do '.

By the time they stop in front of a hallway the novelty of the boss, a manager, and two pokemon strolling through the office has passed. Replaced with the stress of knowing a manager and the boss are here to personally witness how much (or how little) work is getting done. There are no eyes on them as John considers the doors ahead of them.

"I think you had the right idea," he replies, meaning unclear for just a moment before he bumps MC's back with his foot. She spins around and hisses, only to be silenced like the others under John's guidance with a finger to the lips.

"Quiet. You don't want to get shown up, do you? Pick a door."

Those ears swivel again before the Zangoose goes jogging down the hall, toddling on those short legs of hers. She sniffs at a few doors before skipping several as she picks up speed. Halfway down the hall she scratches at a door (not rough enough to mar the wood but with enough force John quickly clears the space between them to shoo her paws away) and begins to growl quietly.

"I think we've got a winner," John says, looking over his shoulder at del Mar, awkwardly placing himself between MC and the door she's picked.

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WINTER MASQUERADE [Holiday Event]

POSTED ON Dec 8, 2022 19:36:38 GMT

Elisabeth Fiorelli and GIDEON GRAVES like this

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There's no hiding the way John jumps when someone suddenly calls out to his left. His shoulders nearly brush against his earlobes before he whips his head around. He makes eye contact with a younger guy and pulls a classic 'who, me? ': pointing at his own masked face in question.

It's an unnecessary gesture. The stranger closes the gap between them and makes it clear -- if not through his words than his appraising gaze -- that he's speaking to John. John self-consciously tugs at his clothing as blue eyes roam over it. Just a quick straightening of his suit jacket and bowtie.

"Uh yeah, sure, why not," he replies, voice croaking slightly, "I'll try to uh, keep it slow. So you don't have to babysit an old man."

The attempt at humor is awkward and a little stilted. This person's performing? Who are they under the mask? Are they a name he would know if it were said aloud? His head is already spinning, his palms sweaty when he dries them on his pants before offering a bent arm for the young blonde to lean on.

Thankfully, he's not left to his anxiety for too long. An incredibly familiar voice pulls his eyes to his right. If he were expected to name the person through sight alone John would never manage it. The flashy suit and styled hair, the pristine white mask that makes his own look even more like the bargain bin accessory it is -- there's little of his drinking buddy in that outfit save the put together nature of it all. Thankfully (again), John's given a hint so on the nose it must be intentional.

"Every time I drink anything you offer I get a taste of history, chatty," he replies with an easy, relieved smile, "shame I lose it under the smell of all the burning cash."

He leans slightly away from the boy on his arm -- not rudely, but so that when he says what's next in a conspiratorial whisper only his friend can hear.

"It's nice to see you, Giddy. I thought I was going to drown out here."

notes: I hope it's okay that John is taking that stab at Gideon's identity. I figured turnabout is fair play.
GIDEON GRAVES
Niky Racz

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is this gardening? [mission]

POSTED ON Dec 8, 2022 19:19:14 GMT

[attr="class","samcam"]

A part of John genuinely expects the interaction to end there. Maybe it's a reflex from the office, where often times juniors come for a pep talk and then are off on their way once they've got it. He bends to reach for the basket at his feet but stops halfway when Cian speaks up again.

He blushes slightly at the question and rubs at the back of his neck again. Oh man, how does he answer that. His left hand is still curled around the back of his neck when he straightens up (basket in his right).

"I used to -- battle, that is -- but uh," he laughs, the sound much less genuine than any of the words he'd had to offer Cian, "well, you can only chase a dream so far, right? So not so much anymore."

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CIAN MAHER

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doe's dang dude

POSTED ON Dec 7, 2022 16:32:38 GMT

Locke Jamison and Martín del Mar like this

JOHN NELSON && Locke Jamison
Just Some Guys(tm)!!!! John isn't a massive rumors kinda guy (work is for work, dammit! gossip on your own time!) but it sounds like it's impossible not to hear about Locke's misadventures with the boss man so that definitely turns him from "just a delivery guy" to "delivery guy with a story to tell" -- and while he's definitely still not trying to get sidetracked during work hours they can definitely get some incidental conversations in. John signing off on shit while the pokemon carry it in, Locke coming through with something while John is on a smoke break.

The craziness of Hoenn, the impossibility of the everyman to just live in the region, and the lovelife woes of working round the clock are definitely all topics John would happily engage Locke in.

I actually really really like the way you've tied in Locke's year-goals to my plot hook that's real clever! Yeah! I want excuses for John to start battling and training on a more casual level before I start having him chase his dreams again and helping Locke figure out the ropes sounds like a great excuse for that! Maybe while they're talking the usual shit Locke can mention how he wants to be able to defend himself better and John can jokingly be like "yeah I was a real ace back in my day" and accidentally get roped into helping??? They can have a friendly amateur vs rusty casual battle or something where John focuses on trying to get the basics covered?

ICHIKA TAKAHASHI && Martín del Mar

Boy am I ever getting familiar with this boy, but yes! Honestly a lot of Ichika's involvement in Rocket in the specific I'd like to tie to advisement and needs from higher ups. She's a grade-A follower lackey who was sent to Kanto mostly as a trial run to see that she can function in the organization as a whole without living like a complete prisoner. All she'd really need is to catch wind that MAGMA needs more bodies and she'd find her way to Martin or make it clear she's available. All the more if it means filling some of her empty hours with training.

CONTROL I. would probably be of immediate interest to Ichika. Being from Kanto her familiarity with all the new kinds of evolutions and power ups in Hoenn is lacking, and she's always looking for ways to squeeze more out of her pokemon. Mega Evolution especially is so obviously flashy and powerful. She wants.

ICHIKA TAKAHASHI && Ceri Glynn

I feel like it's a bit boring of me, but really kind of the same thing here sans the bits about leaders and higher ups yada yada. While there's practically no chance Ichika is initially interested in friendship if she's told "this scientist is going out to look for samples, help her and cover her back" she's going to go do it. I imagine their first thread would be a lot of Ichika doing what she's told and fumbling through the casual conversation Ceri tries for. She might be curious about what college is like since she hasn't been to school since she was fifteen -- which sounds like it might be a bummer but with the way Ichika navigates emotions (not at all) it would probably just be more awkwardness which I'm all about but WHO KNOWS. I hope this is something. I feel like I'm not giving you as much on Ichika as I did on John : /

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POSTED ON Dec 7, 2022 16:09:54 GMT

Martín del Mar likes this

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There's not a lot left of the passionate trainer John used to be. His fashion sense has changed, his bearing gone more mild, but when he holds a pokeball his teenage self comes to the surface for just a moment.

When he first started his time on the gym circuit John, like many young trainers, got hung up on the aesthetics. He spent almost as much time training Dess as he did practicing holding her pokeball. Throwing it. He wanted to look cool doing both -- like the trainers he saw on TV. That kind of muscle memory doesn't just go away. When John pulls the pokeball from his pocket it's with just his first two fingers and thumb. When it grows in his hand his other fingers join the grip seamlessly.

This isn't the venue or situation to go pitching a pokeball, but he lets it roll off his fingers with a pop of their tips. It spins gracefully in the air (suspended, for just a moment by the momentum) before plummeting to the ground. MC is released in a flash of white light at the same time the pokeball bounces off the tile and back into John's hand.

The Zangoose is less poised than her trainer. She lets out a trill and immediately starts scanning the surroundings for opponents. When she spots Delphi she lowers into a squat and growls, claws flexing.

"Hey, none of that," John chides her lightly, ruffling the fur between her ears in a way he knows will always put her at ease, "I'm still at work. Fight night is for the walk home."

While MC's hackles settle, John shoots an apologetic look towards his boss and Delphi. The latter gets a small smile and bow of his head. He's obviously a little uncomfortable -- embarrassed more like -- but it's got nothing to do with the Espeon's unwavering gaze.

"I don't want to take up too much of your time, sir, so where would you like to start?"

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WINTER MASQUERADE [Holiday Event]

POSTED ON Dec 7, 2022 3:08:16 GMT

angelo vestri, John Sullivan, and 2 more like this

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This is far, far away from anything John could describe as his 'scene '. So much so that John still struggles -- even as he looks at his invite and walks into the event unopposed -- to believe he was not put on the guest list for this celebration through some kind of error.

Really. He steps off the bus and walks up to the museum only to see not one, not two, but several limousines queued up and parked on the property. Not to mention cars that have to run even a nightly rental charge in excess of a month of his salary. Then there's the names tied to the whole thing. Stones, council members, gym leaders, his fucking boss. What the hell does he have in common with any of these people?

But, at the end of the day, he was invited. And so he's here. Dressed in a classic, black suit (just a little tight in the shoulders and stomach but otherwise freshly laundered and pressed). Nothing brand name or even on par with the donated outfits, but certainly formal. John even dug through some boxes to find a bowtie.

The mask is, admittedly, a bit lacking however. Practically a comic book burglar mask, but helped along by an ostentatious top hat worn in such a way the brim throws shadows over his face. It felt alright to skimp a bit on that part -- not like he of all people is at risk of being recognized and inconvenienced.

"Okay, party, you're here so let's uh," he talks himself up, looking around the packed room. His mouth goes dry. Some would argue the anonymity of a masquerade ball emboldens the spirit. When everyone is no-one there's nothing to be scared of in a social situation. Except for he knows that quite a few people here are not no one and so now everyone is someone.

"Drink. Let's drink. Let's find a drink," he settles on instead, turning his attention to searching out a bar so as to ignore just how many celebrities are potentially buzzing about in arm's reach.

PROMPT #3
PROMPT #6

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incoming! [mission]

POSTED ON Dec 6, 2022 22:15:14 GMT

[attr="class","samcam"]

The whistling is lost under the roar of the waves, but the shouting is not. John initially wants to just ignore it, can't whoever is freaking out tell he's having a moment? That he's trying to make the most of this little serene space he's carved out for himself? But the words are just particular enough to get him to open his eyes and throw an exasperated look over his shoulder.

"What, man? What do you want me to --" the first Minor lands. Whistling turns to a pitch high and loud enough to be more akin to screaming as sand and surf are flung into the air. A gout of steam rises from the water. John's eyes fly heavenward only just in time to dive out of the way of the next landing.

He's kneeling in the water when he goes frantically digging through his pockets. His slacks soak through from the thighs down and the front of his shirt has gone translucent. Later he'll complain about how gross it is and how hard it's going to be to get to a dry cleaner -- for now he throws out a pokeball and shouts a command almost simultaneously.

"Dess! Use HYPER VOICE! At the sky!"

The Exploud casts a long shadow over her kneeling trainer. She leans back to look up at the moon and falling stars before letting out an ear-drum popping scream into the night air. Several Minior previously on course to turn John to paste are thrown off course. Their momentum broken, they more stumble than crash into the sea. With barely a splash to announce them.

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nagi miwa

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POSTED ON Dec 6, 2022 22:02:37 GMT

Martín del Mar likes this

[attr="class","samcam"]

John stands off to the side while the boss assesses the situation. His arms crossed in front of him, one hand rubbing at his chin, he tries to think about what to do next. The other managers are honest people so there's nothing to be gained from drilling them harder on this. Maybe they could speak with the few other employees who have been in and out? But those are just a few interns who did coffee runs. John can't say he's eager to make them feel untrusted by the company so early into their time with P.O.G.

It's del Mar's comment on how hard it would be to leave the floor undetected that settles things for him. John nods, grabs his suit jacket and puts it on, and walks towards the room's still-open door.

"I'm most of the way through my quota for the day anyway. I'll do a sweep of the floor," as he speaks he reaches into the right pocket of his slacks and comes back with a single, worn pokeball. Today is MC's promised, weekly exercise day. He was going to let her go wild a bit on the walk back home -- but he's sure she won't object to helping him hunt down these presents.