It was official. He was going to turn Meatloaf, his galarian zigzagoon, into actual meatloaf after this was all over.

“Stop wriggling, you little- Ugh, hold still!”

The little weasel pokemon had decided that her usual TWO braincells were apparently overkill for that afternoon, not even having them to spark together the idea that maybe divebombing into bushes partially overhanging a steep drop would not be the best of ideas. Now she was stuck hanging in a precarious position, her collar snagged by thin branches, and all that lingered between her and a tumble down the slope.

The height of the ledge wasn’t that extreme, though you’d never imagine it from the terrified yowling Meatloaf was emitting. The caterwauling sounded like a baby being thrown in a dryer and set to high.

Heart in his throat at the sense of vertigo from being so close to a sharp decline, Wren nevertheless persisted in his attempts to rescue the ridiculous muppet. He heaved a sigh of relief when he finally lifted her free.

So glorious was Meatloaf’s own relief that she thrashed out of his grasp and darted to spin in circles around his feet--

--Crashing directly into his shin instead.

“Oh fuuu--”

His leg crumpled, and Wren found himself falling.

Well, rolling, really.

After a few dizzying seconds he found himself laying at the bottom of the dip, staring up at the sky. With a shaky relief, he sat up.

“Huh, that really wasn’t too ba-”

A second later a black and white ball of fluff and muscle crashed into him like a bowling ball. A familiar surge of pain lanced up and down Wren’s spine and through his limbs, and he collapsed back onto his side.

Oh. Yeah. Uh. He wouldn’t be walking for a little while.

Cursing his bad luck, the great outdoors, and a certain pokemon who should have been in her fucking pokeball anyway but never listened, Wren went limp and focused on breathing through the pain for now. He wasn’t far off the main trail now - surely someone might spot him? If not, he'd feel better eventually. Probably. 

He glared balefully at the zigzagoon who looked back, tail wagging, not a thought behind her eyes.

“If we’re not found for days, we’re eating you first.”

Josh Devlin

Current Threads & Plots:

Rescuer With Elise, aka Luna - wren collapses in the cold and needs help


IT NeededWith Emerson Aka wool - Wren teams up with an IT guy to fix an obnoxious man's stuff

Rollin Rollin, duo wild - thread with josh aka raikou

Tagged Jayfeather with a plot idea about Opal

Messages ceej about Ana with a plot idea


STILL NEED TO DO:

Thread with Milku for Caden

Look at gun's characters for plot ideas!

Rule number one for self employment (if you wanted to have money for food): the customer was always right.

Rule number two: Yes, even THOSE customers. The ones with their heads so far up their own asses that they didn’t know the difference between a flat and starhead screwdriver.

Rule number three: You like food. You need money for food. No bash the customer in the face with a wrench. No matter how tempted.

Rule number four: Take a deep breath and repeat the above rules, relax that grip on the wrench!!

“As I explained,” Wren said, with the strained politeness of customer service, “there is no way to verify that the hardware has been fixed until the software has been reinstalled.”

All of this rich man’s high tech, multi-part, routers had been busted - one infested on the inside with loads of joltik that left static hairs everywhere, another filled with a weird purple goop that suggested berry juice had been spilled on it, ect. Every one seemed to have a different problem. And every one needed to be reestablished to the system to test the repairs - but did Wren look like the IT guy they were waiting for?

“But can’t YOU just fix it while we wait?” The middle age man whined, rubbing his mustache. He narrowed his eyes. “Is it because I’m paying you by the hour? I’m pausing the clock while we wait.”

Wren closed his eyes and repeated the rules in his head. When the other man turned away with a huff to look impatiently at the front door, Wren couldn’t resist raising his wrench and miming that he was going to bash the client’s head in. Just a little. As a treat.

emerson whitlock

Of course it was fucking cold.

He really should have charged that last client double. The ‘quick, routine, oil change’ hadn’t turned out so quick OR so routine when the oil consistency had been like a grimer’s sludge. Because he’d had to flush it out many times over, much more time had passed than he’d predicted when he’d planned out his day. By the time he’d left his client’s house, the sunset had smeared the city with hues of pink and orange.

As an aesthetic, it was beautiful. However, this golden hour was completely wasted on Wren for before stated reason:

IT WAS FUCKING COLD.

The coat that was adequate for midday wasn’t so now that evening was falling.

Ask any old man, and they would tell you: injuries acted up in bad weather. Wren walked through the city, each step growing stiffer. It was like the cold was a persistent DOT chipping away at his heath bar. His joints felt like those of a tin soldier toy that had been left to rust, hinges creaking as he stubbornly dragged one foot in front of the other.

Sylveon had long since wrapped his ribbons around Wren’s side and arm, pulling counterpoint to the best of its abilities.

But it wasn’t enough.

Wren was in a more abandoned part of the city, an obsolete area behind the shopping district he used as a shortcut to avoid crowds, when his muscles spasmed and legs gave out. He slipped, falling and crashing down the platform step he was on. Vision tinged green with pain, he hissed in a breath.

His sylveon anxiously ran around him a few times, feeling him here and there with his ribbons, and flinching back from the sensation transferred through them. With a determined look, he turned and dashed up the platform steps and through the shady-looking alleyways until he burst out onto the shopping district.

Spotting a woman and a floating pokemon, he ran around them, crying out in alarm. He ran around them a few times, reaching and tugging at the woman with his ribbons and sending signals of ‘help!’ and ‘follow’ to the pokemon. If she was willing, he would physically wrap a ribbon around her wrist and drag her the entire way to where his trainer was laying.

Elise Calcifet

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Hello all! I play Wren Winter pkmn-hoenn.boards.net/user/2864 He was hailed as a rising star in mechanics when he was a child, but then got injured severely, and all his scholarships and interested sponsors went poof. It took him many years to rehabilitate to being able to work again, but after so many years out of the loop and out of the spotlight, he’s stuck doing shitty low tier jobs for low pay.

Some ideas


Big Dramatic Plots:

★ Cause of the Injury - I left it very vague on purpose, because wouldn’t it be fun to have had someone be involved? Whether part of an attack or an accident or a failed rescue attempt, could be a source of guilt and angst for a moral leaning character, or a further source of ptsd for Wren for a non-moral leaning character. Idk, just thought it could be fun.

Smaller Plot Hooks:

★Wren’s rebuild service - If it’s mechanical, Wren can probably fix it. And do it for cheap, since he’s stuck in a shitty apartment needing to pay rent, and takes what jobs he can get without official certifications. He could also spot something wrong out in the open and offer to fix it, or just take it from your character without asking and start fixing it.

★ Chaos Gremlin Wren’s galarian zigzagoon meatloaf is really stupid, really hyper, and breaks out of her pokeball a lot. She could cause a disturbance, scene, or do something like steal food or jump up all covered in dirt on your character.

★ Rescue - Well, being disabled isn’t exactly like a hallmark movie where you can always push yourself through by sheer pluckiness. Wren pushes himself too hard. Maybe while out, your character gets accosted by a sylveon who won’t leave them alone, and drags them back to a grumpy and bitter person laying on the ground that clearly needs help getting somewhere else.
Old associates. Gifted success vs dead end drop out. Maybe old contacts in engineering from before Wren got hurt?


Feel free to suggest anything! Those are just the ideas I had off the top of my head.