[X] My Assistant

[Umbrae Calamitas]

Do not apply for this RP. All participating members have been decided. Also, any bunnying of characters has been pre-approved with the characters and RPers in question.

Tuesday couldn’t believe her luck. She had walked for a good part of the day, trying to get as far from Petropolis City as possible. Unfortunately, despite her love of walking and her willingness to continue, exhaustion had won over. She simply wasn’t used to this type of traveling. She had been planning to just find a nice place to set up camp, when she met a farmer alongside the road.

He introduced himself as George. He’d been taking a dinner break on the side of the road when Tuesday had wandered upon his cart. Just finished with his meal, he was more than happy to let her sit in the back, since he was headed in the same direction as she was. He’d thought that she would be adverse to sitting in the hay with a small flock of Mareep, but she must have surprised him. She’d never had any qualms about getting her hands dirty (or the rest of her, for that matter).

She’d slept for the first couple of hours, and the farmer – George – seemed perfectly content with the silence. On occasion, she heard him humming a tune, but he left her alone, probably accustomed to the peaceful quiet of his pokemon passengers.

After she had awoken from her rest, Tuesday decided to take advantage of the surprisingly-smooth ride that she had been granted, and she was finishing up her response letter to Jaima.

However, she was aware that it was a rather long letter for someone who she had never met, and who was just being polite by responding to her about the letter meant for her brother. Maybe she was being a little presumptuous.

Sighing softly and stroking Cyndaquil’s back, which earned her a sleepy coo, she read over her letter.

Jaima,

I'm really, really sorry that my letter got sent to you by mistake. I was in a bit of a rush when I sent it and probably put it in the wrong box or something. I don't even know. Have you ever been to Petropolis? This place is maddening!!

Most people my age don't like books, to tell the truth, so I can understand your sisters (who would be two years younger than me, if they're ten) not caring much for them, either. Maybe they'll learn, though. A lot of what I know about pokemon I gained from books. ^^ And thank you for the compliment.

It's all right about reading it. If you have younger siblings, I can see how you might think it's for you. I always just call my brother, well, Big Brother. It was a tad strange to receive a handwritten letter. I thought that I received a letter for someone else, actually. My brother's letters are always typed because Brone has been blind since he was born, but Cassandra (that's his Kadabra) reads him the letters, or lets him read them through her eyes.

Your Swellow was insistent, though, so I did find out that the letter was for me, obviously. He's a beautiful pokemon. You must take very good care of him, especially if he can fly here so quickly from Lenoilia.

That's where I'm headed next, actually, though I've only heard passing bits about it. Everyone here is too busy to take the time to talk to me, so I'm pretty much left on my own to find out what I need to, other than the occasional bit of aid. If it's that filthy, though, I'll probably just race on through really quickly. I need to get to Arasam next, so, unfortunately, Lenoilia is unavoidable at this point. Oh well, I'll get to see more of Furoh. Silver lining and all that.

It's not that I don't like my sister. I don't like the way she does things. She's... well, she's the one that caught Dante, but she hates fire types and she thought he was weak, so she abused him. She kept him locked up in his pokeball and only fed him enough to keep him alive, and when he was out, she just kept telling him how weak and useless he was. He's better now, as I've had him since I was nine, but he still worries that I'll just up and decide that he's useless at some point, and he has such horrid nightmares it makes me want to cry...

Anyway, so, yeah. I really don't care what Anika does, so long as she doesn't hurt anymore pokemon. And, well, I'd kind of like her to stay away from me. I don't know how she would treat me, really. If people can be that cruel to their friends, how would they treat their family, you know?

Anyway, I'll have to pass through Stink City by the sounds of it, but my main goal next is Arasam, so I probably will just rush on through. And if a nurse doesn't like trainers, then why is she a nurse? That's asinine, in my opinion. I suppose some people just like being unorthodox or vindictive.

I'm going to stop being Tuesday for a moment, and instead, I'll be Frank. You shouldn't keep it all locked up inside. I mean, I'm certainly the last person you'd want to dispel your feelings to, but you should tell someone, you know? If you keep it all locked up and don't face the reality that it happened, you're probably going to drive yourself mad. That, or when you finally do accept it, you'll explode from keeping everything locked inside.

I sort of had this time when something happened that was pretty horrible, and I didn't want to accept that it had happened. Even more than that, though, I didn't want to face the problem and find out if there was more to it. If Cassandra hadn't helped me through it, I probably would have made the biggest mistake of my life and lost my two best friends. So just... don't hide in ignorance. It really isn't smart.

I know I'm just a kid and no one wants to take advice from a twelve-year-old, but... just consider it, okay? And I'm sorry about your dad. I can't say I know what it feels like to lose a parent, but I don't know what I'd do if I lost Brone, so... yeah.

I finally escaped Petropolis, though I was separated from the group I was traveling with. I think they’ll be okay, though, since they’re together. There are Officer Jennys everywhere, though. There was a pokemon thief running around, and he nearly ran the one girl over. After I got separated, I ran into him. Some weird old guy, he really gave me the creeps, but I managed to get away. Tempest, ugh… well, Tempest lived up to her name.

Anyway, I picked up a new friend from the incident, but she’s not going to stay with me for long if I can help it. I had a moment where I misjudged her, but I’m doing better. It’s… linked to that incident I mentioned earlier, where I almost lost my two best friends. Just one of my idiosyncrasies, you could say. I’m en route to Lenoilia, so hopefully what I have planned will work out. A nice farmer is giving me a ride on his cart, because my feet hurt. :P

Wow. This is more like a book than a letter, and I'm still writing, even though I really don't think I'm going to send this. For someone who rarely ever talks, this is a lot for me to say. I should have just left it at a thank you. No doubt you weren't expecting a penpal.

- Tuesday Berdison, the girl who signs her name to letters she doesn't even plan to send...

Crinkling her nose, Tuesday decided that it would probably be better to rewrite the letter. All she needed was a simple thank you. She didn’t need to go all out like she had, and really, she had no right to. She didn’t know this Jaima, and he probably didn’t want to be bothered with some kid.

A cry of “Swell!” caused her to look up in surprise. She blinked, as the Swellow that had delivered her letter from Jaima appeared, perching gracefully on the edge of the cart. The farmer glanced back momentarily, but didn’t seem concerned, and continued driving the Tauros onward.

“Hello again,” Tuesday greeted, smiling at the familiar bird. She noted that Cyndaquil was also looking at the bird, a strange look on her rodent face. “I just need a new piece of paper, Swellow. Hold on a sec.”

Tuesday set the bum-letter to the side and reached into her bag, rooting for a fresh piece of parchment to write on. There was her sketchbook, now where was her stationary? “Aha!” she declared, successfully pulling free a slightly-wrinkled piece of paper.

She blinked in surprise when she looked up.

The Swellow and her letter were gone.

This post has been edited by Umbrae Calamitas: Apr 29 2009, 09:32 PM

[Master Houndoom]

When Jaima heard the rumbling and saw the Thief pull out the fence slats, his first thought wasn't for his own dafety, but for Tuesday's. He reached for her, to try to get her clear of the rapidly approaching herd. Two things happened at the instant his hand moved; He missed Tuesday's arm, and a small, yellow form hit him in the stomach.

He reeled backwards, stumbling, and was hit again. He caught a bare glimpse of a jagged tail and was hit a third time, tumbling clear of the herd. "No! No, I didn't get Tue-"

A short, high scream sounded and then was cut off abruptly, and Mercury's ball twitched. Jaima was too shocked to move, his eyes blurred and dimmed. He caught a glimpse of a yellow form staring at the passing, panicked herd, but couldn't see it clearly for some reason.

He'd wait for it to pass, and go find Tuesday, and maybe they could figure out what made that scream.

There was a pop at his waist, and then another, and he felt warm pokémon arms around him, and heard the sound of crying. It was a little disconcerting. He'd never heard a pokémon cry before.

It isn't your fault, Mercury said, her mental voice full of grief. It isn't your fault, she wanted to save you. It isn't your fault.

Jaima didn't understand. It wasn't his fault, it was the Thief's, and when he and Tuesday found each other, they'd go after him...

Oh, Trainer Jaima...

The herd had passed, and the dust was beginning to settle. He stood, but halfway to his feet, he saw something that turned his legs to rubber.

From the bushes on the side of the road stuck a forearm and hand, still, bloodied, and familiar. Tuesday's tiny hand. Triggered by the sight, Jaima's memory played the scream, pained, frightened, and cut off before it would havr ended naturally. Jaima's legs gave out, but he didn't feel the pain of landing.

It can't be... She can't be...

I felt it... For all of it's quietness, Mercury's voice was a wail of anguish, and Jaima felt his eyes flowing with tears.

"I... No... Tuesday, I would have... She can't be dead..."

His legs wouldn't pry him up. His insides were jelly. His eyes wouldn't stop leaking.

And then he heard laughter. He turned his head and saw a fat man near a hole in a fence, dancing and cavorting as if he'd won the Daily lottery.

"That'll teach you! Who's laughing now? Not you! Hahahahaha! Now who'll stop me? Here's a hint: Not you!"

Jaima saw red. The strength that left him returned a hundred fold, and he felt himself rise. He didn't remember the run; it seemed he had been sitting on second and hitting the man the next. He didn't feel the usual fatigue or pain associated with his fist hitting another object, just the rage driving him to turn this murdering monster into pulp.

The man begged, and screamed, and bawled, but Jaima was unheeding. He simply hit again, harder. Finally, a familiar voice in his head bored through the rage.

Trainer Jaima, stop it! Stop, you're killing him!

"Good."

It won't bring Trainer Tuesday back!

"I'll feel better."

In desperation, Mercury released every pokeball, then linked the occupants to Jaima. Unlike the link in the pokecenter, this one was tenuous, the voices indistinct, but they were heard.

There is no honor in this victory...

Don't do it!

This is wrong...

Don't destroy yourself...

Stay good, Jaima, stay good!

Do it... Kill him...

The last voice, met with a collective gasp, was angry, full of the need for vengeance. Jaima turned, one hand still gripping the limp, whimpering Thief's shirt, to see Tempest staring at the Thief with malice.

He took Tuesday from me. She ordered me to push you out of the way. Kill him.

Jaima hesitated, then turned to the thief. For a long moment, it seemed he would continue the beating, but he finally dropped the thief, his strength drained. "No."

WHY? HE TOOK HER. He KILLED her! Why would you spare him?! Electricity sparked around the electric mouse in curling fire, but Jaima couldn't feel any fear.

"Because she wouldn't want us to be killers over her," he said wearily. The pikachu began to wail, distraught, defeated, mourning her trainer the way Jaima still could not. He turned away from it, giving Tempest the privacy she was due, and reached down to the thief.

"Didn't mean to kill anyone," he muttered. "In the way. Not my fault. Bullies, all of you." When he noticed Jaima reaching for him, he quailed. He didn't prevent him from grabbing the gem and pulling it out of his jacket, but whined when he realized what had happened.

The gem was small, as all things of great powere were, rounded on the front and flat and smooth on the back. Jaima gripped it.

"I'm going to get her back," he whispered, looking into the images that shifted and sputtered within the gem.

He returned the pokemon, picking up the weeping pikachu, and muttered, "take me back before the stampede."

He disappeared.

This post has been edited by Hungry Hungry Houndoom: Jun 1 2009, 11:33 PM