Anxiety Trials is a Pokemon Special sandbox RP. We are a friendly, no-fuss site where you don't have to worry about posting 24/7, but when you've got the muse. We are based loosely around the Pokemon Special/Adventures manga, though set in a slightly alternate universe. If you're looking for a fun place to explore what life with Pokemon would be like, hopefully we're the place for you!
★ Shoutbox ★
Come say hello
★ Recent ★
4th Feb 14
As those of you who have been with us for a while can see, we've done some updating on the site. To our new membes, welcome! We've reverted to our original name and are going to move forward with six month! See all our new, updated summaries in the "Need to Knows" section for a full run-down on what has happened!
★ Census ★
Our citizens
breeders
♂01
♀02
coordinators
♂00
♀00
dex holders
♂06
♀03
elites
♂02
♀00
gym leaders
♂01
♀02
knights
♂06
♀05
rangers
♂00
♀03
researchers
♂02
♀01
trainers
♂04
♀03
★ Weather ★
Feb, March, April
Snow is starting to melt in most regions, they are beginning to see Spring
ANXIETY TRIALS was created by Fate. The skin which includes the Board Mod, Mini Profile and Sidebar are created by Dorothia @ Adoxography. The tabbed sidebar was created by kimset of RPG D'. Plug ins were made by their respective PB Support member. All other information which includes but is not limited to, Character Plots, Character Applications and more belong to their rightful owner. Pokemon/Pokemon Special is the property of Nintendo.
Lola was not used to the fact that people took advantage of young women. She had been so barely out of home that the knowledge of the way people treated others was completely beyond her. The pink-haired girl had barely spent more than a few weeks on the road but she had been asked repetitively for spare change and food, which she'd always given, and then hounded for pokemon battles. The latter she couldn't do, impossible due to the Ditto and Feebas who were her only pokemon. She lost every time, and they would take their winnings and tell their friend about the girl who couldn't battle, and then another challenger would arrive.
She didn't know how to say no.
Which was possibly how she'd gotten herself into the rather terrifying situation that had come upon her. A towering man, taller than six feet, was hovering over here where she had thought to camp out one night. The route had seemed obscenely safe during the daytime - very little tall grass, only a few sparse trainers - and it was somewhere a campfire wouldn't cause any damage. But apparently this towering bulky man was not going to take no for an answer. He had demanded what money she had on her and the day's battles had taken away most of her supply. The meager number of pokedollars she'd handed to him were not enough to satisfy his want for money, and now he had a Rhydon that was glowering down at her while he stood over her, demanding compensation.
Lola on the other hand had never been more terrified in her life. She couldn't stand a great number of things, and she was easily frightened in general, but this man who was now asking something she did not want to give was a real threat. Her young, inexperienced mind did not alert her to the fact that Ditto could transform into a Rhydon, all she thought was of her bruised and battled-out Feebas who she wanted to protect. "I can't.. please, you can take my food and my drink, I don't have any more money.. Please just leave me be!" She whimpered out softly, trembling where she stood.
The man leered at her, and Lola shrieked out loud. "What about your pokemon instead?" he demanded, and she couldn't help but wail again. How was she going to get out of this mess?
[hope this is ok. xD He can do away with the bully whenever if you like <3]
Alioth ambled down Route 15 of Kanto, keeping to the right side out of pure, quaint habit. It was a dirt road, with a plethora of miniscule rocks and pebbles littered over it in balanced disarray. The feel of gravel against his auburn hiking boots was notably soothing, the sound of the friction between the tiny stones and his hefty feet unusually relaxing. An extensive ditch ran parallel to the dirt path on its right, stretching as far as it would allow in a straight line. Alioth found himself balancing on the very edge of the dip, skillfully balancing himself so that he wouldn’t succumb to gravity and tumble into the miniature dip and suffer from self-humiliation.
Alioth, at the moment, was sporting casual wear; his outfit for the evening comprised of burgundy-coloured chinos that seemed to coincide with the colour of his hair nicely, a cerulean cardigan with a navy blue polo T-shirt under, and a pair of auburn hiking boots decorated with numerous black straps that seemed to serve no use other than for décor. His expression was vacant – as typical – and his lips formed a tight line, betraying no emotion. A slight breeze rustled his naturally unkempt hair, yet still handsome. If one were to run into Alioth on the road, they’d most likely by torn between pausing to admire the hunk and stepping away in fear of incurring a terrifying wrath.
Alioth had just deserted Fuchsia City, not at all galvanized with the pathetic Pokémon to be caught at the Safari Zone. The young man’s right hand instinctively moved to the back of his leather belt where he carried all six of his Poké Balls, containing his fellow Fighting-types (bar Fira, a Charizard). He wasn’t planning on utilizing any of the Pokémon that were residents of the Safari Zone if he happened to obtain any – he had one team, and that was the team of Fighting-types that were on him at the moment.
The red-haired man let out a soft sigh, slightly chilled. Maroon hues observed the wispy mist that was his breath on such a chilly night, though it was indeed a spectacular sight: the skies were cloudless, and if one looked up, they’d be able to behold the beauty of shimmering stars that were scattered across the vast blackness that was known as space. He cupped his large hands in front of his face, attempting to warm his now fairly frozen fingers, and though very much tolerable, Alioth suddenly longed for a warm, soothing campfire to recline in front of.
Narrowed eyes scouted the map, searching for lone campers who seemed to have a tad too much room for just one. He did indeed spot one, and from where he stood, he was only capable of making out one tiny figure. Excellent. Alioth advanced towards the warm light; he wasn’t about to bully the small figure – he just wanted tranquil rest – but if they turned out to be feisty sourballs, then a petite being would be much easier to handle. He casually leaped over the ditch and sauntered over to the right, where the campfire was. Though the night was dark, he was still able to make out the facial expressions of what seemed to be a pink-haired femme: absolutely terrified. The man blinked, followed by an unreasonable hesitation, stopping mid-step. Was the girl afraid of him?
No, upon closer inspection, there was yet another figure – and it was definitely not a young, tiny female like the first one. This one was male – bald, a stocky, muscular build, towering at over six feet and clad in mostly black. The man wore a black leather jacket that was creased and wrinkled, which would tell most that it was old and had been worn often. If one looked close enough, then they’d realize that there were dark splashes of dried blood splattered on it, mostly around the cuffs, like they’d been around for more than one gruesome beating. He possessed matching black trousers, and finished off his outfit with white sneakers that were surprisingly spotless. The man obviously took proper care of his shoes.
Yes, to an average citizen, the bald gangster would’ve been more than intimidating – it’d be enough to paralyze a particularly faint hearted person. The young girl looked petrified from pure fear, and Alioth couldn’t help but find it absurd. Alioth, though, stood at six feet two inches, so he was pretty much at the same level as the gangster, perhaps even taller. Even if he weren’t, though, the young male still doubted he would be terrified. That Rhydon of his was no match for his brutal Fighting-type Pokémon, the Pokémon that have been training longer than he has been training in martial arts. With an indifferent shrug, the man continued to advance, the somewhat wet earth squelching beneath his moving feet.
He arrived at the campsite, ignoring a bloodthirsty glare from the bald gangster, and casually plopped down near the campfire, warming his body and relieving it of the cold. The effects were almost immediate; stiff fingers were now able to operate much more efficiently, his complexion flushing a full colour from the warmth that was brought by the fire. In retrospect, he probably could’ve done the same with Fira, but that didn’t matter anymore – he was already there, so why not?
“Oy, punk,” growled the bald man, emphasizing the word punk. A vein popped out of his temple comically. He found his statement particularly ironic – if anything, he was the punk, not Alioth. “Git lost before y’all slugged.” A low chortle escaped Alioth’s lips – again, the one getting slugged would be the gangster, not Alioth. He wasn’t able to think the same for the girl, though.
With a nonchalant grunt, he casually tossed a Poké Ball up into the air – not really caring which one it was, since all of them were more than capable of teaching the man a lesson. A brief light flared, signaling the arrival of a Pokémon. Out came Zagan, his loyal Poliwrath. Convenient, thought the young male, proceeding to lace his fingers behind his head and reclined against a log, letting out a yawn before ordering Zagan, “Just take care of him.” Zagan cried his signature battle cry, and Alioth knew that Zagan had understood his intentions. The tadpole Pokémon faced the Rhydon confidently – if not arrogantly – muscles bulging. The gangster gulped, knowing that the red-headed man had the type advantage. Cursing, he shouted, “You gonna let that puny tadpole to scare ya?!” The Rhydon roared, the sound waves seeming to shift the long grass slightly. All Alioth could think was: It’s nighttime – stop yelling, it’s annoying.[/style] [STYLE=font-size: 9px; text-align: center; width: 300px; line-height: 10px; color: #141414; border-top: 5px maroon solid;] WORDS 1,111 TAGS Lola NOTES I left it so that you could NPC the gangster an we could have a mini battle before the blushing starts.
Lola had not been expecting anyone to step in to defend her - especially not against a Rhydon-weilding thug who clearly just wanted trouble and to freak her out. There was tension practically crackling between the pair of men and she scurried back away from the action. The Rhydon roared again in annoyance, and the thug stood his ground, growling at Alioth and praying that the stupid punk would just leave he and his target alone. Bald head glistened in the firelight and he squeezed his hand into a fist. "He don't scare me with that puny blue pipsqueak! He shouldn't scare you!" He growled, though the Rhydon seemed a little more annoyed than his trainer did.
Stomping his feet on the ground, the rock behemoth's horn twirled in rage and the grunt looked just as menacing as he hovered over the sitting newcomer. From a few feet away the pink-haired Lola managed a glance at her rescuer. Garnet eyes round and wide, she let her eyes rake over Alioth, memorising his features so that if she made a run for it - and he survived - she would be able to thank him later. But all she could do was whimper a little more as she scurried back further to sink behind the Knight Leader - though of course she had no idea who he was in that regard - and her fingers wrapped themselves in his shirt. "Don't let.. don't let him kill you, mister, don't let that Rhydon get near you!"
Her voice was squeaky as she hid, and the biker-fighter-man looked directly at them. "I ain't done with ya, ya little tart," he snarled, and then pointed to his Rhydon, "Okay you big lug, that things a fighting type.. What you have to do is use something like.. DRILL RUN!" He shouted, and once more the drill on the Pokemon's nose began to twirl quickly as the rock type shot straight for the Poliwrath. Who cared about type advantage? Certainly not the thug.
"Get lost, scum." He spat at Alioth directly.
Lola cowered softly, looking up at the back of the head of her so-called saviour. Bright, frightened eyes scanned both people quickly, wondering how she had managed to get herself into this mess. She had just wanted a relaxing evening out of the dark with her pokemon. Being able to eat. Being able to sleep, eventually. All those things normal people did when they camped out for the night. But no, she had managed to get attacked by some random blood-stained, leather-wearing biker.
Alioth, to say the least, was not at all intimidated by the bald man’s hefty words. He knew from experience – those who talked big usually turned out to be selfish, vain cowards hiding behind a grand vocabulary. Unfortunately for this man, he was placed in the humiliating category of “none of the above.” He was, being the brutal Knight he was, thoroughly enjoying the little episode. The flames of the fire crackled and popped, otherwise filling the tense silence that weighed the black, night sky. Well, perhaps it was extremely tense for the gangster and the young girl – Alioth wore an everlasting, lopsided, savage half-smirk on his face, glowing orange because of the campfire. In more ways than one, Alioth was a lot more terrorizing.
Apparently he’d vexed the gangster more than he thought; his Rhydon’s fury was reflected by his spinning cream-colored, drill-like horn – its eyes seemed to light up from anger. Before the initial and inevitable clash, Alioth reviewed everything he knew about Rhydon. It’s a dual-type: part Ground-type and part Rock-type, therefore causing it to be extremely susceptible to Water-type and Grass-type attacks. That worked out perfectly for Alioth – his Zagan was on the field, and Alioth knew with an absolute certainty that he would be able to knock it out in one hit with a Hydro Pump. Zagan was also a Fighting-type – even better. Rhydon was known for their extremely powerful drill-like horns that were capable of crushing raw diamonds, packing enough power in their tails to knock down a building with a single hit.
A light breeze rustled his handsomely disheveled hair as he ran through his options. Of course, he’d been meaning to allow Zagan to take care of the job, so all he did on the exterior was recline further into the log, swiftly moving his left leg over the other and letting out a hefty yawn – somewhat inappropriate for the occasion at hand. Just as he did so, he was greeted with a not-so-nasty surprise; the pink-haired femme grabbed his shirt, wrapping her feminine fingers in them. Alioth, being a conventional, male human being, allowed a pink tone to thrill his cheeks slightly, a sharp intake of breath reflecting his surprise. His body stiffened slightly, and he was suddenly very self-conscious about himself.
“Get off,” he complained rudely, jerking his body forward in an attempt to free himself of the woman’s grasp (although, if he was being honest with himself, he’d admit that it felt nice). He quickly turned his attention to the fierce standoff going on between the Poliwrath and the Rhydon. The man commanded his Pokémon to use Drill Run, which failed to trigger more than a half-hearted chuckle from the red-haired man.
The Rhydon roared, the sound ripping through the nighttime silence and blasting Alioth’s surprisingly delicate eardrums, and the drill began to spin fiercely. Rhydon broke into a run, or at least, how fast a Rhydon could run while carrying all that bulky weight, aiming to hit Zagan with the horn. Alioth sat back and watched intent on the outcome. He even allowed a small bead of sweat to trickle down his face, moving slow enough to be annoying.
Just as the Rhydon neared, Zagan jumped up, soaring high into the air until Alioth lost sight of him. Alioth whistled, impressed with his tadpole Pokémon – he didn’t know it was capable of jumping that high. For a mere second, the air had stilled and the Rhydon was still going, now in the direction of the two. Alioth braced himself, ready to take anything it could dish up, but at that moment, a large blast of pure water came crashing down onto the Rhydon’s head. As the water dissipated, a triumphant Zagan landed on top of the Rhydon, who, unsurprisingly, fainted. Alioth commended Zagan’s bellicose way of handling a situation.
The Rhydon disappeared under Zagan’s feet, leaving behind red glimmers and sparkles, signifying the return of a Pokémon to its Poké Ball. Alioth looked up to see the man sprinting away at high speeds. The sight itself was incredibly amusing, and Alioth could barely stifle his laugher that threatened to rise.
“Very good.” Alioth nodded in Zagan’s direction before allowing him to also return to his Poké Ball, reclining further as the show came to a close. He didn’t exactly have anything to say now – he just wanted to relax in front of the fire for a few minutes before heading on his way again.
“Just gonna stay here for a bit,” he murmured, not really caring if the girl was still listening to him.
.: BATTLE SUMMARY :.
.: TURN 1 :.
Rhydon used Drill Run!
Rhydon's attack missed!
Poliwrath used Hydro Pump!
It's super effective! The foe's Rhydon fainted!
[/style] [STYLE=font-size: 9px; text-align: center; width: 300px; line-height: 10px; color: #141414; border-top: 5px maroon solid;] WORDS 766 TAGS Lola NOTES He'll soften up to Lola soon enough.
Lola didn't understand the battle. She'd never been good at comprehending how types competed with one another. All that glistened in her garnet coloured eyes was fear - fear that the enormous, building-crushing pokemon before her was going up against a tadpole. The type disadvantage meant nothing to her fear. She was worried that this newcomer really might not be any good and just be putting her at more risk of being stomped on. Hope still prickled behind her gaze and she let out a quiet whimper as Alioth told her sternly to remove herself from his person. "S-sorry, I didn't mean to.." She stuttered out, a little confused.
The pink haired breeder shouldn't have been surprised, really. Most people didn't like being clung to by strangers, but most strangers didn't save girls when they were being attacked by skinheads because all that did was make them angrier. So her saviour had been unexpected all around. Finally after a few more moments of pondering his words, Lola released the man's shirt from her grasp, flexing her fingers but still close enough to cling should more harm befall them. Beind behind someone like Alioth was safe. He wasn't scared even with his chances.
Which, Lola found out a few moments later, had been good. She let out a frightened whimper as the Drill Run attack began, but was shocked when no impact came. Instead, she heard a dull thud and opened her eyes to see the tadpole standing victorious. And then the others were gone and she was left more confused than ever. What had happened in those few moments? Well, she'd had her eyes closed, expecting to die so she had no real idea other than 'he won' going through her brain. Blinking a few times and standing up as she watched the comical running of the bully, Lola then turned her gaze on the man warming himself by her campfire.
She gulped audibly as she took a seat beside him, curling her knees up to her chest and blinking a few times. Who was this strange man who had suddenly joined her at her camp? He didn't want a pokemon battle to, did he? The thoughts were sent flying through her mind as she watched him, expecting something to happen while she was in her daydream. But all she got in reply was mention that he would be staying there a while. Lola didn't mind that. He was clearly a much better battler than she, and if someone came looking then she wouldn't be in quite so much danger.
Well, perhaps anyways.
"Of course.. I-I can offer you some stew.. or some tea, if you'd like.. It's not anything wonderful.. but I want to thank you for rescuing me." Really, her voice was almost silent in comparison to the crackling fire that lay before them. Even the popping noises were louder than her speech, but she didn't know what else to say. "I don't know how to repay you otherwise, because I don't have money.. I-I'm not a very good battler, you see.." She rambled unconciously, her lips turning downwards in a frown.
As if it was the right answer - which she knew it probably wasn't in her subconscious mind, considering when she'd just clutched at him he'd told her to get off - Lola scooted closer and wrapped her arms around Alioth in a brief, very chaste hug before squeaking and scuttling back along her edge of the log.
"Th-thank you so so much! I-I'm Lola.. You're welcome to share the fire as long as you like and if there's anything I can do for you, tell me and I'll do it because.. you're a hero!" She mumbled at him, voice squeaky as she wriggled her toes. Hopefully she could do something to repay him for all his hard work. After all, he had taken down a Rhydon in defense of her life.
Soon Alioth found him sitting in an upright position, with his legs crossed properly and, assuming the air proper to a prince of battle, somehow managed to make warming up his hands look intriguingly regal. The flames flickered in front of him, lighting up his eyes, as he stared into it and watched as shapes danced across the blackness of the night. The crackle of the fire put him at ease – which was probably not the best thing to do; letting his guard down was one thing he was taught not to do during his days training to become part of the legendary Knights of Arceus. Of course, he couldn’t help himself – an (admittedly) attractive female sat very close beside him, and he couldn’t help but feel self-conscious. As he had never really been introduced to the female species, bar his relatives, yet still understand their “importance,” he wouldn’t have been able to help it if he acted like a bashful child if she pulled anything funny. He’d have to watch out for that, otherwise he’d be caught in the womanly web of seduction and femininity. He naively thought he could avoid it.
Having no real experience with women of Lola’s “kind” (feminine, bashful and whatnot), there was no chance of that whatsoever, as the ladies in the same organization as he were… different. They were battlers. They were like him, in a way. Of course, if they somehow turned on him, utilizing their womanly woes, he’d most certainly disregard them. They’re supposed to be formal, like a true Knight of Arceus should be. This girl, though, was not a Knight, and therefore, able to “seduce” him any way she wished. Not that he wished for that.
Oh, if only he knew that his hormones were the dictators at that moment.
Not that he let that show on the outside. On the exterior, he retained the aloof demeanor that the girl was supposedly used to. His lips were pursed in a tight line, reflecting his childish determination, but the rest of his visage betrayed nothing.
He merely let out a grunt in reply to her apology, suddenly realizing how foolish his thoughts were a few moments ago. He regained his calm and his determined look faded away, suddenly becoming Alioth and not romantically inclined Alioth. That’s just stupid. He couldn’t believe that he was allowing his inexperience with women to cloud his judgment. He shouldn’t even be caring about this girl anyway…
Did she say stew?
“Sure,” he replied, obviously disregarding his will to remain adamant. Women were one thing, but food was under an entirely different category. “I don’t have any will to battle with the likes of you, anyway, seeing as you weren’t able to defend yourself from that weakling. It wouldn’t have much value, or room to grow.” He said this in a blatantly rude manner, but he didn’t pay it any mind at all. He didn’t even mean it in a rude way – he was merely saying what he thought, and expected the girl to not take offence. Being brought up with a kindly, yet somewhat stern when it came to fighting and discipline, he wasn’t really taught about social skills – mainly how to chop wood blocks in half with his bare hands, and things like that.
“So—” he started, about to inquire about the food, when the girl scooted over and threw her arms around her once again. He took a little bit of time to process it, before stiffening once more and looking away, his eyes furrowed. “I… told you to stop that,” he mumbled awkwardly.
“Anyway… about the stew…”
[/style] [STYLE=font-size: 9px; text-align: center; width: 300px; line-height: 10px; color: #141414; border-top: 5px maroon solid;] WORDS 607 TAGS Lola NOTES Admittedly, that was somewhat unrealistic, but I couldn't help myself; all the fluff! Also, I apologize for being so late. Mugic is officially back!
Lola was well and truly intrigued by her saviour. She was not some dangerous woman of the night, nor was she some crazy seductress. She was a girl with very little ability to protect herself and yet there Alioth stood, casual as anything, after having practically saved her life from a man who could have done practically anything to her, had he not come along. Fingers curled in and out of fists, tiny but in proportion to the rest of her small frame. The pink-haired breeder was quite confused as to what to do about the whole situation. Most times she would have thrown herself at his mercy and begged him to allow her to repay him for saving her, but he seemed very stoic and kept telling her to stop her harassment of him.
So she tried to sit still. She wasn't particularly good at it, and his sudden response to her previous question made her squeak a little in alarm. She could help him somehow! He wanted food! Lola practically leapt to her feet, releasing him quickly, as she dove into her bag, pulling out the spare bowl she kept for exactly this sort of occasion. Not that it happened often. Okay, so it happened more than she liked to admit, but regardless, he was her guest and her honored hero!
Lola gulped quickly as he mentioned her inabilities on the battle field. Bright pink - darker than her hair, even - flared on her cheeks and she busied herself serving him up a healthy portion of the meal she'd been concocting before she had been so rudely and scarily interrupted. "I know I'm not worth much for a battle, I think most people like the easy money, that's all.. I need to train more, but it's hard when you're on your own and.. well, I've never been very good on my own, it's just me and my Abra.." She bit down on her lip as she put the ladle back into the pot and walked over, bowing low as she offered the bowl to Alioth.
Good manners to present a hero with a bow, definitely. At least, that was what Lola thought. She hadn't encountered a great many heroes. He was really her first one, and he had such nice eyes too. "Did you havbe a name, mister hero?" She managed to stutter out as she sat down with her own stew, swishing the meal around with her spoon as she watched him from the corner of her eye. Lola really had no idea how to react to the whole situation, other than to give him as many things as she could before he ran away from her.
"I want to be able to write it down so I can remember.. Not everyone would have made the effort to save me." She squeaked out. It had been bold of her to speak out of turn anyways, but Lola couldn't help herself. She would ask nothing more than his name. She didn't want to intrude, she was scared she would offend him somehow, or that he might turn on her once more when he decided she really wasn't worth saving, but she at least wanted to know who had saved her once. "Really.. thank you for helping me. I never would have gotten out of it otherwise." She blushed darkly, deciding to wait until she knew whether or not he had liked the stew before eating herself, wanting to make certain he was more comfortable than she.
[ I don't even.. I'm sorry about this post. xD It feels really disjointed but she's so nervous I kind of had to force words out of her. ]
[style=float: left; margin-right: 8px; border: 3px solid maroon; margin-bottom: 4px][/style]Alioth waited for his upcoming meal. Truthfully, he was extremely impatient and urged the girl to work faster. As to be expected, he took no notice of her flushed demeanor. He didn’t care. The red-haired man thought this was common sense – obviously one would refuse to battle somebody who was obviously inferior. It just didn’t work that way. As a Knight, Alioth liked to hold some truth to his dignified title; in a way, he could be described as one with chivalry. As in, one who didn’t needlessly pick on the weak when both sides knew who was going to win. Of course, there were times when it was necessary, but this was not a time in which it was necessary at all. Such was the case when she managed to stammer that people preferred the easy money. It was, to say the least, disgusting in his eyes. What was ironic was he was referring to the fact that Lola’s opponents were interested in the money rather than the experience, and not the fact that Lola was a little girl who didn’t deserved to be picked on.
Oh well. Somewhere in his heart, he believed that the latter thought was also… somewhat true.
“Abra is not much of a Pokémon. They tend to run away, utilizing the move Teleport,” he stated simply, suddenly teaching her about her Pokémon. It was to be expected of Alioth – even if he was a Fighting-type trainer, it’s still incredibly useful to know about other Pokémon, especially if it was a type of Pokémon that your specialty was weak against. So is the case for Alioth and his Fighting-type Pokémon. “However, they can read minds. Whether they use this solely for sensing danger or for other things, I have no idea.” Alioth shrugged. He wasn’t a complete expert on Abra.
“However, I’m fairly certain that they can be taught other moves via TM. Haven’t you already done this?” Alioth knew that if he owned an Abra, which he doesn’t, he would’ve taught it useful TMs in order to make it even a little more useful. Obviously, though, this girl didn’t know how.
This behavior coming from Alioth was, surprisingly, somewhat normal. Although he was a member of the infamous Knights, he still felt an obligation to assist ignorant trainers. After all, one day they could become a great trainer – and then it would be all the more satisfying to crush them. He wasn’t sure that Lola would ever become worthy of his battling, but yet he still decided to spoon-feed her knowledge. Be grateful, he thought dully. I hate Psychic-types.
Before he knew it, there was a warm bowl of stew sitting in his outstretched hands. He thought for a moment that the bowing was unnecessary, but when he stopped to think about it, he was a Knight. Not that the girl knew that… and she didn’t have to. Sometimes it was appropriate for somebody of status to dabble amongst the blissfully ignorant. Such was the case with Alioth. In any case, he began to eat, nearly finishing the whole bowl in less than a minute, though he remembered to slow down when he realized that he was in the presence of somebody else. His brows perked up at the mention of his name. Did he dare grace Lola with knowledge of his alias?
“Alioth,” he murmured from between bites, obviously not thinking anything through. He wasn’t able to say anything else in response to her statements, as he was busy filling his stomach with the stew that was… surprisingly delicious. He didn’t know what to expect from the girl.
It was a good stew.
(OOC: Once upon a time, Mugic said, "Screw the fancy templates!" Oh, right. Knowing Alioth, he'll probably leave right after finishing his stew. Just letting you know.)
Lola was well and truly intrigued by her saviour. Lola felt awful, hearing the stuff he said about her Abra. Certainly, it knew teleport, but her mother had thought long before she had, that it was time enough to use TMs. It had moves, though none particularly damaging, and that was perhaps just as useless in a battle as the ability to flee in a fight or flight situation. "Betty is fine, really.. she has some moves, like double team and reflect, and rest.. So she can recover from things. Telekineses and light screen, I'm sure she'll be okay in a battle, it's just.. me, that doesn't do a very good job of it." She mumbled, breathing out slowly and look down at the ground.
"Betty isn't very good at sensing danger.. or if she is, she just hides. I guess he gets that from me, a bit.." She wrinkled her nose and breathed out, stroking at a strand of her hair as she looked away. Maybe there was a trainer school or something she would be able to go to. Certainly he was blunt, but she already knew all the things he was saying were true. Her eyes locked on her companion as he ate, and she wondered exactly how she'd managed to annoy him so much.
Other than being weak.
But her gaze and questioned was answered with his name, which she tried quietly on her tongue. "Alioth," She mumbled, pondering again on it. Her hero and saviour's name was Alioth. Lola was sure he hadn't quite meant to give out his name to her, but she didn't mind particularly. After all, it seemed like he was enjoying the stew and didn't punch her as soon as he'd let the name slip.
"I know I'm not worth my weight in Donphan dung, but if you ever need anything and I can provide it, I'll really try, Mister Alioth. I might even get stronger and be able to battle you someday." Hardly, she thought, but at least she was able to promise to try. Lola found herself blushing and wrapping her hands around her skirt, wondering exactly how it was girls talked to boys - especially pretty ones - all the time, and how when a damsel in distress was rescued, that she would be able to figure out some way to thank him.
"I'm glad the meal is okay though.. I can pack some more up for you to take, if you don't want to share my fire for the night, instead of moving on.. I mean, you're welcome to either.. I mean!" She squeaked, no longer able to think of what exactly it was that she might have meant. Just that she was now royally embarrassed in front of the man who had helped beat away the angry thug who had wanted more than she could give.
"W-w-w-would you like my phone number, in case we're ever around the same area again?"
[style=float: left; margin-right: 8px; border: 3px solid maroon; margin-bottom: 4px][/style]The last of the stew were nearly finished as he began to slow down between bites, suddenly aware that another human being was trying to talk to him. This girl certainly likes chatter, he thought mildly, although none of his biased opinion really made its way into his head. He disregarded the thought a few minutes later. After all, he wasn’t much of an expert on other people. The only people he really knew were the Knights, who were a strange bunch as it was, his family, who were also special cases, and the lonely old man up in the mountains. He was an extremely patient senior who ran a generally inactive and dilapidated dojo, although that wasn’t a problem at the time of his training. If anything, it was the best thing that he could’ve had – his temper at the time could, and would, flare at the most trivial things. However, it was the old man’s patient and serene way that taught him to control that temper… to the best of his ability.
He perked up when the girl began to list of the number of moves that her Abra knew. His horror gradually increased as she reached the end of the list, until his jaw threatened to unhinge as he stared at the girl. Did she even want to battle? The way she had been raising her Abra thoroughly suggested otherwise!
“So… your Abra doesn’t have any damaging moves? None at all?” he said in disbelief, his eyes a bit more animated than before. They had good reason to, as well – there was no wonder in his eyes now that she’d lost the majority of her battles. The damn Pokémon literally was not able to attack. His bowl of stew, albeit nearly empty, now remained at the farthest corner of his mind as he fully wrapped his head around the situation. “Well, there’s no wonder that you’ve been losing all this time! You’re Pokémon can’t inflict any damage, physically or otherwise. Your battling skill is one factor, yes, but the fact that you can’t attack means that you’re not going to be downing another Pokémon anytime soon.” He realized that his tone had been harsh, and he added in a gentler tone, “I suggest teaching your Pokémon at least one move that will allow for self-defense. It’d be pretty bad if you couldn’t protect yourself.” He didn’t add in the fact that it would’ve been a pity if anything bad happened to her, because, well, Alioth just didn’t roll that way.
He scoffed, and was forming a sarcastic remark at the mere thought that she’d one day be able to challenge the admin, but, with some trouble, he managed to hold himself from allowing another hurtful comment from escaping parted lips. Although she deserved it, he felt that she’d suffered enough verbal abuse from him in one day. Instead, he sought to praise her for her meal.
“No. The food was good,” was all that he managed to cough up, but, if you’d known Alioth, it was a pretty high compliment. The fact that he was complimenting some stranger for something other than their battling skills was unheard of. At least she was good for one thing.
The burly man stood up with flight on his mind, when the girl interrupted his thoughts with a rather intriguing suggestion. Did he want to give her his number? He didn’t really, but then again, the girl was hopeless, and she’d need his number. There was no way she’d last long out here. Actually, how she’d managed to come so far was beyond him.
“Uh. Sure,” he stated in a pseudo-surly manner, scratching the back of his head. He’d just have to make sure that the other members of his organization knew nothing about this rather uncharacteristic exchange.
Lola was horrified by everything, she really didn't have very much to say about the fact that she was not strong, she was not a good battler and she was definitely not up to his standards as a trainer. She hung her head in shame as her pink tendrils of hair fell over her face, and she breathed out slowly. "I guess not.. I'll make sure I find a TM that does a damaging move! I'll try and make sure it learns something better so it can defend itself.. Usually we just try to teleport away from pokemon battles, so I've never really thought about much in regards to that. Maybe when it evolves it'll be better."
She felt ashamed that she had associated herself with this strong battler, that she had brought down his reputation by making him have to protect her. She nodded at his suggestions, making mental note after mental note of what he told her. The reason she was always losing was because she had no method of attacking back, no way to protect herself or to knock out the other Pokemon short of making her Abra use up all of it's moves and struggle against the other Pokemon. "I promise I'll try to do better, A-Alioth." She tried out his name softly before she cast her gaze downwards towards the ground.
"I'm glad you enjoyed the meal, at least," She brightened a little, for the first time allowing him a truly genuie smile. It lightened her face, and she forced the strands of hair that had begun curling around her cheeks back behind her ears and straightened her back so that you could see how tall - or rather, how short - she really was. "Did you want me to put any extra away for you to take with you? I don't mind, I always make too much, really.." She hmmed, deciding that if they ever crossed paths again, that she'd definitely make sure he was fed every time.
Men could never cook well enough for themselves, and it was something she was actually good at.
She blushed darkly at the surly response to her request for the exchange of phone numbers, however, and quickly pulled out a piece of paper, scribbling down her phone number and throwing herself into another low bow, as if it would make him less annoyed this time than the other times she had done the same. Lola was a creature of habit, and she had always been the type to bow down to people, to be beneath them. She had no choice, most of the time. She forced herself to stand up as she recalled his distaste for the formalities, and offered him the piece of paper. "I promise I won't bother you too much, A-A-Alioth," She stuttered, forcing her voice to be still.
"I just.. I'd really like to see you again sometime, if we're in the same place.. I'd like to make you another meal to thank you, and I don't want you to have to hang around me for too long, so this way I can know.." She blushed, chewing on the corner of her lip and letting her eyes fall down to the ground once more, her feet kicking at the dirt as she listened to the fire crackle beside them. "And then maybe, if I get stronger, we can be friends."
Maybe. Unlikely. Most people didn't want to be friends with a weakling like her who needed protecting.
[ dun duuun duuuuun, they're GONNA BE SO CUUUTE SOMEDAAY XD ]
[style=float: left; margin-right: 8px; border: 3px solid maroon; margin-bottom: 4px][/style]Alioth nodded in approval as she stated her goals for her Abra. They were small, but they would do. They were perfect for little Lola. “Mm-hm. You’ll be better off with some sort of self-defense mechanism.” He paused. “Maybe I’ll lend you one. If I find one,” he added, not wanting to get her hopes up. He was deemed responsible by Cashel, yes, but when it came to things he didn’t care about and didn’t matter, then, well, he wasn’t the guy to ask a favor.
There were no feelings of shame in this man. His blunt nature and ability to speak with no filters made sure of that. However, this signified his sincere trait, which was admirable. He ruffled his disheveled hair at the sound of his name, but otherwise, made no actions that reflected his awkwardness. “Good,” was all that he managed to cough up. It was all that was necessary; the girl should know that by now. However, whether the compliment was paid towards her vow or the sound of his name, he was uncertain.
He grunted in reply. There was not much for him to say, but when the girl offered another meal to go, he shook his head, holding up a hand. “It’s fine. The meal was nice, but I have to get going.” To where, he was, again, uncertain. He’d accomplished what he came for, and was probably going to go out and do some intense training just to stretch his cranky joints.
A curious gaze landed on Lola when she bowed down low, and he was about to correct her when she stood up and handed the piece of paper normally. A tight grin danced across his face. The girl was learning. He took a convenient piece of paper and pen and scribbled down numbers that were actually his phone number, and left it with the girl. She’d be able to contact him now. The thought was a little unnerving, but he stood strong.
He nodded in response to her words. Yes. That would be nice, he thought. However, his thoughts were buried deep inside his mind, and his face returned to that taciturn, yet bellicose, appearance.
One swift movement later, Fira, his Charizard, was out and ready to go. He gently patted her neck, and stole one last glance at Lola. “Well. I’ll probably be, uh, seeing you sometime in the future.” He climbed onto Fira’s back, who snorted at his unconventional clumsy way of handling himself, and took off. Soon, the light of the campfire was a little speck in the night.
(OOC: And so I clumsily end their first encounter. Now we must make plans for their second meeting, post haste!)