Contest Blues [Alva]

[clairezeyeden]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,10,true][atrb=style, width:400px; background-color:#f5f5f5; border:1px solid #efefef, bTable][style=border:1px solid #e9e9e9; background-color:#f0f0f0; font-size:10px; font-family:arial; letter-spacing:1px; color:#858585; text-align:justify; padding:20px; margin-bottom:8px; height: 370px; overflow:auto;]She couldn't decide which appeal she wanted to use. There were so many different things that they could do, but right now, not one of them was making any sense to her. There were only so many appeals that she could pull of with an electric duo. Though, together they certainly made a cute pair. She sat behind the practice hall that they had set up in Goldenrod City, trying to figure out something, anything she could possibly do that would make a for a good appeal. "Guys, we really need to do something that no one's ever seen before. I want us to make an awesome impression in our first contest." Paprika and Pepper sat together on top of the piano, watching Claire with wide eyes. She seemed to know about as much about this stuff as they did...which was very little. Paprika flicked an ear softly, as if she was thinking as hard as Claire was at the moment. Suddenly, the tiny mouse had an idea. With a few thunks on the Piano she had jumped off it and onto the floor. Claire peeked over the piano curiously, wondering what the Minun could possibly be up to. She began twirling, which perplexed both Pepper and Claire as they looked on. Suddenly, clouds formed around the vicinity of where they were standing around, and rain came pouring down from them quickly. claire sputtered as the water fell over her as well, wetting her clothes, and soaking her hair. "Paprika! What are you-wait...that's it!" she exclaimed suddenly as she watched Paprika then fall to the floor in fake agony. Forgetting how mad she was about getting wet suddenly, she quickly flipped open the Piano's lid that rested over the keys and placed her fingers on them, trying to remember how to start the song. and suddenly, she began playing , her attention now fully focused on the keys she was working. Each note was hit skillfully and carefully, and this talent, was one of the only ones she had that she could say she was good at- music. Paprika stopped faking her agony and ran across the slippery floor before hopping up on the slicked Piano top, sliding to a stop when Pepper reached out and grabbed her paw. The rain above them subsided, but Claire continued to play, the idea formatting itself in her mind.[/style][style=width:100px; height:100px; border:1px solid #b7b7b7; background-color:#f5f5f5; float:left; padding:2px; margin:2px][/style][style=border:1px solid #e9e9e9; width:250; height:94px; background-color:#e9e9e9; font-size:9px; font-family:georgia; letter-spacing:3px; color:#707070; text-align:right; float:left; padding:5px; margin:2px; overflow:auto]words: 399 tags: Alva notes: You can click the word "playing" to see what song it was~ [/style] [style=width:368; height:15px; background-color:#e9e9e9; font-size:11px; font-style:italic; font-weight:bold; font-family:georgia; letter-spacing:6px; color:#707070; text-align:right; float:left; padding:2px; margin:2px]and i never listen to anyone[/style]

[style= font-size:9px; font-family:georgia; letter-spacing:3px]LAIKA of BTN and OTE[/style]

[alva]

[atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,padding:0; margin: 0; background-image:url(http://i49.tinypic.com/t9wg36.png);background-repeat:repeat-y;width: 500px;height:675px;] If there was one thing that he hated, it was getting wet. Goldenrod City was a pain, to say the very least. Always had been, always would be. The bright lights - seemingly glaring into every pedestrians eyes no matter what the time of the day - could make a person want to claw their eyes out. The people were total jerk faces, too, with thugs and bandits on the loose everywhere and, someone could just tell, a serial killer out on the run to attack helpless civilians. People blew off all their money at the game corner and hardly anyone in town went there for the contests. It was all about the casinoes and the radio tower and even the immature gym leader for tourists. But not the contests. Never the contests. And it was particularly annoying for coordinators who needed to participate in said contests for the chance to win a ribbon from there, guessing as there was no one there to see all they'd done to perfect their contests preformances. A short figure danced - not literally, of course - through the streets of Johto's finest city, chin high and eyes glittering with a sense of superiority. Green locks of hair bobbed up and forth with their every step, partially helped by the slight breeze that glidded across the cityscape. They appeared to fit right in with the style this populated area had taken on - bright hair, bright clothes, bright eyes, and a bright future - and walked through those streets as if they owned them. Well, they might as very well have, guessing as that was how the lone person was already thinking about the situation. A beautiful city owned by a beautiful coordinator. Sounded just about right. So who was this person, smirking away and making their way across town to the practice hall the place had to offer them and other coordinators like themself? Alva Faunus, low ranking coordinator and "future ruler of the universe", that was who. The feminine figure was making his way towards just that - the Golden Rod City Practive Hall - with only one thing on his mind. Steal their ideas. Who ever said you had to play fair in a contest, anyway? Besides. So many times he'd seen a half decent attempt at a combination or something of that like wasted on trainers who didn't believe they could do anything with that they'd accomplished so far. "Borrowing" the idea, molding it a little bit more into his style, and using it during a constest wasn't illegal, after all, and he'd only been called out on it once. Or twice. Maybe that third time? Oh, he didn't bring himself to bother himself nor care about those kinds of things. Peasents would be peasents, not being able to comprehend the thoughts and actinos of those on a much higher class than themselves. But the walk to said building was long and agonizing, to much for the diva- er, smug human to take. However, the last time that he tried to "faint" on the sidewalk and beg the pedestrians around him to carry him ti gus destination, the most unattractive man he'd ever seen - that freak even mistook him for a girl, which absolutely could not be forgiven - attempted to jump to his aid and ended up getting a punch to the face, a string of insults, and the person who'd wounded his pride walking away, making a "miraculous" recovery. But, reguardless, he was quite winded. Goodness, he was out of shape. The only reason he remained so tiny was because he practically starved himself just to maintain his "beautiful" appearance. That, obviously, wasn't to good for his health. But that was beside the point. When the building he'd be searching for for an eternity 0 probably ten, fifteen minutes tops - came into view, of course, he practically kissed the ground below his feet and tore off in the direction of his destination. "No need to fear! The marvelous Alva is finally here!" Bursting through the doors as though he'd been being chased by a pack of rabid Houndour just seconds before, the green-haired coordinator threw open the doors and made his "smashin entrance". For a moment, he was met with silence and, baffled, he took a double take, only to find the lobby practically empty. Well, empty save for a single woman somewhere across the room, but she was to entranced by the magazine she was reading to even notice his presence in the room, much less hear his declaration of arrival. Moving all the air in his mouth into the area between his teeth and cheek in the form of a pout, he grumbled to himself, "Ungreatful people, make me wast a perfectly good line and everything on my very first visit. Rude much?" Of course, these thoughts were cast from his mind with the idea that they would all soon learn just how amazing he was and how he was never to be ignored. That, and the fact that he had ideas to steal. Er, borrow. As the man made his way down the hallways, looking for someone, anyone to stalk, he realized one critical element with a pang. He had absolutely no idea where he was going. He'd never been here before - heck, he hadn't been to a Pokemon Contest at all in about a year, much less participated in one - and had no idea where exactly people were supposed to be "practicing" at all. They could have just thrown a map his way upon entrance of the building, or something. "Hey, this is your first time here! Have a map so you don't get lost!" Ha ha! No. He even bet there were hidden securities everywhere, just so that they could watch him get lost and suffer and die in this pathetic excuse of a place. The fools! People like him didn't go down easily! He would know - he was one of them! Clenching his fists, he prepared to turn right around and head back home to complain about how people were stupid and liked to laugh at him behind cameras. Of course, that was when something stopped him from doing that, too. A noise. A soft noise, none the less, coming from one of the doors. Voices? Was there someone in there? Were those the people spying on him and laughing at him for getting lost in this maze of a place? No, not quite. There was only one voice, serious and female. And, obviously, a girl wouldn't be laughing at him. That just... didn't make sense, he guessed. "Guys, we really need to do something that no one's ever seen before," said the girl from behind the door, either taking to some group of gangsters she had hiding in there or to some Pokemon that she'd be using for contests. Heh. People who talked to their Pokemon sure were stupid. "I want us to make an awesome impression in our first contest." Arg, a beginner? Not even worth watching to see if they had any good coordinator moves. Because, obviously, they didn't. He would know. He'd been in this business for years. And, just because he'd only ever one ribbon didn't mean he didn't know everything there was to know about stealing - um, borrowing ideas from the others. After a few moments of silence, save for some shuffling noises coming from inside the room, the female spoke again. "Paprika! What are you-wait...that's it!" With that, more noise flooded the room. "... A piano..." Indeed it was. The sound was absolutely unmistakable, especially for someone who had played it since he was hardly five years old. Alva couldn't help it. In a matter of heartbeats, his hand was on the knob, turning, turning. He jus thad to see who was playing that melody, who was prodding back memories of when his mother would watch over him like a hawk and demand he start all over when his finger slipped or he missed a cord or he - Or he got well. The moment the door was openned enough for him to peek his head in, water was tossed in his face, kicking him off nostolgia's highway and leaving him in the hateful ditch. Oh, boy, whoever had done that was really going to get it this time. However, as soon as he'd been splashed with mysterious liquids, the source of the water disappeared into thin air like it'd never existed at all. The whole room was soaked. Was that the move Rain Dance? Quite possibly. However, his attention wasn't on that, nor the two electric-types who could have possibly been to blame for the event. No, his green eyes were trained on the girl who was still playing that darn piano! "You!" the feminine male hissed, storming over in a heated rage. Holding out part of the sopping wet tank top he wore - oh, and of course he'd chosen to wear white today - and some locks of his equally wet hair, he demanded, "What was this for? I didn't even do anything, but you sprayed me with water!" Falling all to dramatically to the floor, hand pressed against his forhead, he moaned, "I'm going to catch a cold for sure, now... And all I wanted to do was hear a little piano playing like the good ol' days..." words;; 1658 words. tagged;; cali as claire. muse;; getting better. notes;; sorry for the wait! DX.

[clairezeyeden]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,10,true][atrb=style, width:400px; background-color:#f5f5f5; border:1px solid #efefef, bTable][style=border:1px solid #e9e9e9; background-color:#f0f0f0; font-size:10px; font-family:arial; letter-spacing:1px; color:#858585; text-align:justify; padding:20px; margin-bottom:8px; height: 370px; overflow:auto;] Gentle keystroke after harsh beat, Claire found herself almost finished with the song...almost. As she was playing, Pepper had heard the door open behind them. The rain was still beating down, soaking the area effectively, but it wasn't until a man stalked over to Claire that Claire had to stop playing. Upon his harsh tone, she stopped her playing with one harsh bang. She hated being knocked off her focus, she really did. A glare remained on her face as she turned to listen to...Him? Yes... his voice was pretty feminine, but his shoulders were broad at the very least and something about his face told her he was indeed not a female. Once she had finished, she got up to try to at least compare to his eye level. "Excuse me? Look I'm sorry if you got wet but it's not myfault that you came in here. It's not like I got up this morning and thought "Oh hey I'm gonna go soak some guy with green hair today!" She snapped back, her voice just about as angry as his. "If you wanted to hear the Piano, you could have stay outside, I know you can hear it! No reason to come in here and then blame me for getting wet. I don't know if you're a coordinator or what the hell you are, but Coordinator or not you should realize if you come barging into people's practices you have a risk of getting hit!" She continued in a raised voice. Just who was he to sit there and yell at her like that? It wasn't something welcomed by Claire, not in the slightest. Still not losing the edge in her voice, she mentioned sharply. "By the way, why the heck is your hair so long? If you hadn't gotten so in my face I wouldn't have even thought you were a dude!" Her eyes didn't leave him, and she didn't care if this guy knew anything about contests or not, but he didn't have to sit there and yell at her like that. Crossing her arms, she looked away from him, trying to break herself out of glaring. "And another thing why are you worried about catching a cold. It's not that cold out!" [/style][style=width:100px; height:100px; border:1px solid #b7b7b7; background-color:#f5f5f5; float:left; padding:2px; margin:2px][/style][style=border:1px solid #e9e9e9; width:250; height:94px; background-color:#e9e9e9; font-size:9px; font-family:georgia; letter-spacing:3px; color:#707070; text-align:right; float:left; padding:5px; margin:2px; overflow:auto]words: 374 tags: Alva notes: [/style] [style=width:368; height:15px; background-color:#e9e9e9; font-size:11px; font-style:italic; font-weight:bold; font-family:georgia; letter-spacing:6px; color:#707070; text-align:right; float:left; padding:2px; margin:2px]and i never listen to anyone[/style]

[style= font-size:9px; font-family:georgia; letter-spacing:3px]LAIKA of BTN and OTE[/style]

[alva]

[atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,padding:0; margin: 0; background-image:url(http://i49.tinypic.com/t9wg36.png);background-repeat:repeat-y;width: 500px;height:675px;] Oh, there were many things that people could do to him without him getting angry - ... actually, that's a lie. Let's try that again. There were a lot of things in the world that got on Alva's nerves, and I mean a lot. Talking smack to him was, obviously, one of these things, and very high on the lists of "things I don't tolerate" for him. First of all, because he hated to be outdone in any way, shape, and or form and, secondly, he was always afraid of getting a fist shoved in his face immediately after whatever other's yell back at him. It wasn't his fault he had one heck of a temper and it wasn't his fault he was fragile enough to break down into tears when someone went around through punches like they owned the place. Though, the male never actually tried to avoid such confrontations with others; if anything, he only egged people on as though he wanted to get a bloody nose. Of course, in his eyes, females never really put up a fight and he usually just scared them or guilt tripped them by shouting in such a manner. In other words, when the dark-haired girl at the piano shot to her feet and countered every one of his complaints, he was thrown more than a little off guard. "Excuse me?" she shouted at him, just as displeased as himself, it seemed. "Look, I'm sorry you got wet, but it's not my fault you came in here. It's not like I got up this morning and thought, "Oh, hey, I'm gonna go soak some guy with green hair today!" Honestly, at this point, he didn't know whether to be baffled that she was actually holding her own - yeesh, he really was a little sexist, wasn't he? - flattered that she'd recognized his few masculine traits, or angered at her comment. "Of course you did!" he countered in all honesty. "That's what they all say! Let's go make fun of that dude with the funny hair! So you're just another bully, huh? Huh?" Of course, by this time, she was already pressing on. "If you wanted to hear the piano, you could have stayed outside. I know you can hear it!" Gritting his teeth, he insisted, "It's not the same that way! It's all muffled through the door! It'd be nicer if I was standing right next to the piano, not a mile away!" She continued, "I don't know if you're a coordinator or what the heck you are, but, coordinator or not, you should realize that, if you come barging into people's practices, you have a risk of getting hit!" "What the heck was I supposed to know you were practicing for a contest? I thought you were just practicing the piano or something! It's not my fault you're misleading!" Alva was, though he hated to admit to such a thing, a little frightened by her raising voice. Sure, he could yell just as loudly, but he was a true chicken at heart and probably wouldn't be able to take much more before he either stormed out of there, started bawling, or shouted at her to... well, stop shouting. Or some magical combination of the three. The long-haired female's next words were especially hurtful, however, hitting a nerve that shouldn't have been hit. "By the way, why the heck is your hair so long? If hadn't gotten so in my face, I wouldn't have even thought you were a dude!" For a minute, he concidered commenting on how she, herself, must have been a "dude" then, if she was shouting at him in a similar manner to he her. Of course, then the comment about his hair sank in and he all but pouted. "S-so what if my hair's a little long?" he countered, voice noticably weaker and with less power behind it than his previous words. "Wh-what, are there... laws? Laws that say how long my hairs has to be? I wouldn't just you if you went around looking slightly masculine, so you shouldn't criticize my choice of fashion!" Oh, boy, there were those tears. His eyes were already getting watery. Not that her last string of shouts helped out much. "And, another thing, what are you so worried about catching a cold? It's not even that cold out!" To this, he honestly had not answer. So, instead, the green-haired coordinator responded stupidly, "I- It's totally- Why don't you- ... You're not even that cold out!" words;; 809 words. tagged;; cali as claire. muse;; ... eh. notes;; i love claire. so much. <3