hunger pains ● blaise

[FRIEDA MARLENE]

Out of cash. Out of pocky. Out of a reason for living. Oh, wait, those last two were the same thing.

Frieda had been a pick pocket since the day her sister died and she was forced out on the streets in an eternal struggle for survival. It had just come so easy to her. Distract some guy for, like, a minute, snatch his wallet, buy enough to get her through the week, and toss it before drawing any suspicion to herself. As such, despite being what one could call a “hobo” with no home and no real income, she always had a nice stash of pocky hiding somewhere. Should she ever have run out, she'd just buy some more. Should she ever run out of cash to buy more while her stash was still a stash, she'd just steal from such moron and not give it two blinks. Never before in her life had she been without cash and pocky. Pick pocketting just... just was the same without a chocolate-covered bread cracker thingy whatever sticking out the side of her mouth while she did it. It was as though she'd last her muse, the only thing that motivated her to do what she did best.

“This stinks worse 'an a Mankey's behind,” the girl groaned, flopping down on a park bench, becoming distraught all over again when her hand reached for the red box that was always there, without fail... but had made a lucky exception for her this time around. “Arg, what's it take fer a girl ta' get a little pocky 'round here?” Stealing, really. Of course, instead of just getting off her behind and doing it, it was nice to moan and groan about it first.

[BLAISE JIONE]

AND WHEN THE SHIT HITS THE FAN, TELL ME WHO YOU THINK IS THE MAN

"Wafer...I think you should stop before that ends up stuck in your throat." Annnnd it was yet another normal day for Blaise, watching his somehow less than intelligent psychic type attempt to devour a pen, cap and all. Where she had gotten ahold of a pen, he didn't know. Did he care? Well...not particularly. He didn't really care much for anything today, and it was just...well, it was just how he was. He felt his fingers lightly brush a box of Pocky that had been resting in his pocket. Why had it been there? Well, because a certain red-head had gotten him used to the taste of it. He nearly never left home without a pack. His Espurr cried out, and at first, he thought maybe she was choking on the pen. "Wafer, I told you not to-" But it wasn't because of the pen. Speak of the red-head. He blinked at the sight of Frieda looking defeated on the park bench then looked at Wafer, then back to her. "Hey."

LAIKA OF GS!

[FRIEDA MARLENE]

The first thing she saw was the pen. Which was to say, the pen that was halfway engulfed by the mouth of a wide-eyed monster and about to be choked on if someone didn't slap it away like they would had an infant been doing the same thing. Then, she focused on the creature trying to eat the “snack”, the idiot Espurr giving the world as blank a stare as any of its kind ever did. But, as it let out a sudden cry (one that successfully caused her to jump and nearly go tumbling off the bench) she couldn't help but feel a sudden prick of familiarity. Casting a glance as the trainer – accompanied by said trainer's nonchalant, “Hey,” - explained all.

“Blaise!” she shouted a little bit too ecstatically, this time actually falling off the dirty piece of furniture and tumbling to the unforgiving ground with an “oof”. If her shout hadn't attracted attention, the fall most certainly did. Suddenly incredibly embarrassed, though less because of her clumsiness and moreso because she'd openly expressed how excited she was to see him after another lengthy period of his absence, the red head tried to play it cool. Naturally, this led her to looking like a bafoon. “I-I mean... … S'up?” Realizing she was still a mess on the ground, she hurried to righten herself and blinked at him, face as red as a Darumaka. “Crud, I – Poop, if I had - … Do you have money?”

[BLAISE JIONE]

AND WHEN THE SHIT HITS THE FAN, TELL ME WHO YOU THINK IS THE MAN

You would have thought, for being so openly in love with this girl, and making no efforts to hide it, that Blaise would have reached out and caught her when she went tumbling to the floor in a heapload of Frieda. Well, you'd be wrong. He watched her instead. To him, this was normal. Normal Frieda, and one of the reasons why he was so attached to her. To him, it was all part of her charm. He also smirked at hoe excited she sounded to see him. ....But the flat look followed as she asked him if he had any money. He stared at her a moment. "....So, I just got back." a flat tone. "Are you trying to rob me?" He asked as Wafer sat down by his feet, continuing to try and work on her inky treat.

LAIKA OF GS!

[FRIEDA MARLENE]

Just got back? Just got back, just got back, just got- Why did she get the sudden feeling that he hadn't been there a while and she was really mad at him for it? Well, by feeling, more like a dull ache in the peripherals of her conscious. Without pocky, it was hard to think clearly. It was her soul, her life blood and – Yeah, wow, she wasn't over-reacting about it at all. Come to think of it, though, she'd been out of pocky for days. As well as food. And drink. Maybe her blurred conscious wasn't totally an exaggeration. Was she trying to rob him? Oh, no, no, no, no, no. Definately no. Rob him? With what? Her fists? She'd be in a fetal position before her clenched hand was two inches from his face. “Pfft- Rob you? If I was robbing you, I'd just take it, I wouldn't ask you, silly. 'Sides, I don't think I could rob ya' even if I tried. I'd feel too bad, 'cause -” Crud, she was doing it again.

“... I haven't had pocky in a long time.” Hadn't had a proper meal in a long time, more like it. “Nevermind. I don't want yer money. You need it more 'an me... I think. Where were you, again? Feels like it's been a while since I've seen you. And why do I feel like I'm supposed to be mad at you fer somethin'?”

[BLAISE JIONE]

AND WHEN THE SHIT HITS THE FAN, TELL ME WHO YOU THINK IS THE MAN

"Hey, let's go back in that sentence for a moment." He mentioned slyly. "You'd feel bad, because you...what?" He asked, running a finger lightly under her chin in an attempt to get her to look at him. She was too adorable. Too adorable indeed. He had the same calm about him as always, but maybe half of him was actually interested in hearing the rest of that sentence. "Pocky? If it's pocky you want, I can do one better than money. I always carry around some extra Pocky. You know, incase I run into my lost little Frieda." He was grinning. This was too much fun. More fun than Blaise had had in a while since being in Kalos so long. "Everytime I try to tell you I'm leaving, you hit me." He corrected her. She shouldn't be mad, he was sparing himself.

LAIKA OF GS!

[FRIEDA MARLENE]

Avoidance of eye contact became nearly impossible as a finger guided her chin upward until green eyes met red. Crud. Crud, her face was heating up again before he even egged her to finish her sentence about feeling bad about robbing him and – abort, abort, abort – Okay, so many her recoil was a little hesitant and a little half-hearted. As much as she enjoyed physical contact, which she'd never openly admit to, she probably wouldn't have been able to comply without ending in a flurry of embarrassed gibberish. “I'd feel bad 'cause – Well, you're – I really like you, and – I mean, it's different from stealing for some stranger -” Wait. No. Had she just said she liked him somewhere in there? Ha, ha, nope! She must have been imagining things! Yep! And he totally wasn't going to turn around and give her the Distortion World for it, no way! With tomato-red face buried in her hands, she almost didn't hear him say he had pocky.

Frieda's head shot up a little too fast, enough to give her a bit of whiplash, and she raised an eyebrow at him as if to silently ask, “you serious?”. Of course, when he finished his last sentence, the joy at the prospect of possible free food was dimmed significantly. “H-hey, I'm not the one who keeps falling off the face of the Earth every time the other guy turns around,” she defended, though her words held no real meaning. It was a little had to be rude to the person waving water in your face while stranded in the desert. “And I wouldn't have ta' punch ya' if ya' just stayed put! Or, at least, take me with ya' if you really gotta go somewhere...”

[BLAISE JIONE]

AND WHEN THE SHIT HITS THE FAN, TELL ME WHO YOU THINK IS THE MAN

He blinked at her. For once, that was all he could do. For a minute, even his Espurr stopped to look up at him. Jeez, his heart was swelling. But she soon forgot about it and went back to her pen. Did...she just say she liked him? It was the first time he had ever heard her say it. As bad as it was, he wanted to hear it again. But, you don't ask for those kind of things, so he wouldn't. Forgetting about the Pocky for a minute, he listened to her as she mentioned  that she wasn't the one who was always leaving. It was true. He couldn't dispute that. He left a lot, and left her wherever, though, he never thought she'd wait for him to come back. There had to be a lot of other men that wanted her heart. The very thought pissed him off. "....Sorry." Was all he could manage as he pulled away from her. He placed a hand on her head instead of kissing her, doing what he wanted to do, and ruffled her hair apologetically.

LAIKA OF GS!

[FRIEDA MARLENE]

Silence. Where she had expected him to mock her excessively for her hurried and unintentional confession of feelings, buried in a sea of meaningless garbage, he said... nothing. Even the gnawing noises coming from where his silly psychic-type continued trying to swallow a ball-point pen came to an abrupt halt. The red-eyed female because acutely aware of the people around them, and was thankful that not a single one even bothered to spare them a glance. As Wafer continued chewing, she dared to look up at him, almost afraid of what she was going to find. … He really had been away a while, hadn't he? She couldn't even properly predict his reactions. He just... blinked. Said nothing. Had she... done it wrong?

Man, she could go for some pocky at a time like this.

When she'd called him out on his coming and going, Frieda hadn't meant to make him feel bad. Honestly, it had been meant as a sort of joke. However, the grin that had decorated his face – the one should could have stared out for hours, had it not been caused by her own embarrassment – faded; the words must have hit him hard. He muttered a sorry, drawing back from her and all she could manage was a strangled, “Oh -” She nearly grabbed at him, afraid he was going to walk away and leave her again when he extended a hand, ruffling her already messy hair with it in an almost apologetic manner, and for some reason, then made her feel worse than before. Another pair of hands reached to grab for it, almost as though to move it away, but instead, she held on, almost as though to make sure she could keep him from going away. “If ya'... if ya' tell me yer gonna leave, I'll... I won't punch ya' as hard. Just... tell me when yer getting back... 'kay?”

[BLAISE JIONE]

AND WHEN THE SHIT HITS THE FAN, TELL ME WHO YOU THINK IS THE MAN

Was he surprised when he felt her holding onto his wrist? The answer to that question, was yes. He hadn't expected her to do that. Not at all. He looked down at her, green eyes at the moment unreadable as he studied her. Maybe there was some longing, some hurt, no one could really ever tell what Blaise was thinking just by looking at him. Most people would have questioned her not punching him "as hard" rather than "not at all" but Blaise didn't. Instead, he pulled her too him swiftly and held her close to him, hoping the hug could translate his jumbled thoughts, at least for now. When he pulled away, he pushed something into her hand. "Pocky." He stated simply, pointing to the box he had left in her hand with a flat expression.

LAIKA OF GS!

[FRIEDA MARLENE]

She couldn't remember many times he'd moved to hug her, or at least a full hug, and even rarer still were the times when she didn't flail like a crazed Rattata trying to be carried by a five-year-old. However, as the blond pulled her in, she gladly accepted, arms wrapping around him and squeezing hard enough for it to be considered a Beartic hug. So many things jumbling around her head, so many words her mind couldn't process and her mouth refused to stay. So in silence, they hugged it out. By a park bench. In a – though rather quiet – public place. Very romantic. As Blaise moved away, placing something rectangular in her grasp, she laughed more at that logic than she focused one what had been passed to her. Though, to be fair, she was raised by the streets; this all almost seemed better than some fancy dinner ever could be.

“Pocky.”

Pocky?

“... Pocky!” Sure enough, what he'd handed over was that crimson read box, filled with the only food she'd ever need to get fat and not die. Flashing her pearly whites at him, she tore open the box and prepared to dig in when – Wait. Arg, what had her mom taught her about manners when she was a kid and the maternal figure actually seemed to give two cruds about her? Brow furrowing, she slowed down noticeably, and handed the first stick from the box to the person who'd given it to her. “I promise ta' only eat half o' this. Today, at least. Next time, don't think yer getting' away so lucky,” Frieda said, grinning like a madwoman.

[BLAISE JIONE]

AND WHEN THE SHIT HITS THE FAN, TELL ME WHO YOU THINK IS THE MAN

He watched her with a blank expression as she tore open the Pocky. He too had developed a taste for it, thanks to her. And he  didn't mind. He liked anything that made her happy. When she held the Pocky in front of him, he stared at her, and being Blaise, he had an idea. Leaning forward, he took the Pocky between his teeth while she was still holding onto it, giving her his best mock seductive look....which trust me, probably wasn't all that seductive, but hey, he tried. Wafer....well, dat pen. She loved that pen.

LAIKA OF GS!

[FRIEDA MARLENE]

The least Blaise could have done was taken the pocky like a normal person, but no. Nope. She couldn't even except that much from him. He didn't even grab it with his fingers like a normal person would, just... leaned forward and grabbed it with his teeth. While it was still in her hands. And then he was making this look at her, and – who even made that kind of face? And why did it have to be simultaneously ridiculous and wonderful and perfect, and gosh, she didn't know whether she wanted to punch it or kiss it. … On second thought, the former. Definitely the former. Recoiling as though she'd been burned by the treat, her hands once again flew to her face which was most definitely heating up again.

“Y-ya' have hands, don't ya'?” she barked, looking at him through the gaps in her fingers and the box of pocky still clutched in her right hand. “Would it kill ya' to use 'em? A-and stop lookin' at me like that! What're ya' even tryin' ta' do?”

[BLAISE JIONE]

AND WHEN THE SHIT HITS THE FAN, TELL ME WHO YOU THINK IS THE MAN

"I do." He answered innocently, watching her hands fly to her face. Oh that was too much fun. He loved seeing her blush, he did indeed. It made his day, and he chewed half thoughtfully on the  pocky as he listened to her. Did he have hands? Well, yes he did, but did he want to use them? "They hurt." he answered simply, shoving said hands into his pocket. He glanced at Frieda and noticed that she seemed much hungrier than pocky hungry. Wafer, like the adorable idiot she was, flung the pen in a different direction and locked herself onto Frieda's leg, staring up at her. Poooooockkkky.

LAIKA OF GS!

[FRIEDA MARLENE]

… Yep, that was it. She was definitely going to punch him. They hurt? They hurt? What kind of stupid excuse was that? Not one she was just going to sit by and let him get away with. No way in the Distortion World! “Not enough ta' shove 'em in yer pockets, but enough ta' make it hard ta' pick up a piece o' pocky?” the red head demanded incredulously, hands starting to fall to her sides, but face still a shade of red that could have nearly matched her hair. Mildly frustrated, mostly embarrassed, she socked him on the arm, though with noticeably less force than she would have usually, and only a fraction of the strength that she would have used on anyone else. “Keep this up,” she said in a normal tone, but something bordering playful starting to light her features, “and ya' may not get yer box back.”

Frieda was about to say something else, though, when something latched around one of her chocolate-colored boots and her attention was directed downward. The Espurr who'd been spending the entire time trying to devour a pen had tossed the object aside in favor of clinging to her and staring up at her with an expression that told of perpetual wonder. Or that it was under the influence of drugs. With Pokemon, you could just never know. “You-” she started, surprised more than anything when she really looked. Purple met crimson and all the planets aligned in their orbits for just one second, long enough for her to realize: “You. Are. Stinkin'. Adorable.” Reaching down to scoop it up, she cried, “I'm gonna hug you, can keep you, and call you George, and you will be my Squishy, and- and-”