12.17 -- So, the staff may have been a bit out of it this past week, but we were just busy celebrating the end of the semester by partying way too much. Now that that's all over, it's time to focus on Free Falling. We're gonnna introduce an event as well as a great new way to make money for your characters! It's gonna be hella exciting, stay tuned! BLU OUT ~
AKA: How Ash decided it was time to learn how to code v5 and ended up making a site. Obviously I'm no pro, so if there's something that I messed up and you can help me fix it, please do that!
- PLEASE READ ALL THE RULES BEFORE JOINING! - TRY TO REIGSTER YOUR ACCOUNT WITH YOUR CHARACTER'S POKEMON AS THEIR USERNAME DOING SO MAKES TAGGING MUCH EASIER FOR THE STAFF
Welcome to modern day Atlaea; if you're here, it means you have the powers of a pokemon inside of you. We advise that you apply to the university and start your training in one of four subjects: battling, coordinating, healing, or pokemon history and begin your journey towards becoming the very best like no one ever was!
Post by ALISTAIR BARNETT on Dec 13, 2014 1:57:35 GMT
I WISH I COULD MAKE IT EASY. EASY TO LOVE ME.
Usually on the weekends, Alistair would stay at home and read or watch sappy romance movies while grading homework from the previous week. Being the head healing instructor did have some perks, but he had to grade so many portfolios this time of year that it was beginning to bog him down. No matter how many times he'd get up to distract himself with tv or a shower or anything...well, nothing seemed to get him out of the rut he'd put himself in.
So, after staring at the looming stack of papers on his desk, the brunette threw on a coat and left to wander around the city. He was a local to Lakeport and as a child he had taken on random jobs to help support himself and his mother who didn't work at all. That being said, some of the older business owners knew the man quite well and called upon him whenever they needed him to take on an extra shift when he wasn't busy.
He had received a call not a day ago from the local bakery, owned by an elderly couple he used to work for every now and then back in the day. They'd needed some help filling in orders for an upcoming birthday party, and he had declined because he knew how much paperwork he had coming into the weekend. But since he found himself now unable to concentrate, Alistair decided to head on over and help the couple as best he could.
As he arrived, the brunette took off his red scar and black hat and placed them on the coat rack near the entrance. A small bell on the door let the people inside know he'd arrived, and a small head with overly-round glasses popped out from behind the counter, only to smile and wave Alistair to the back. He was greeted by the couple, each with their faces and bodies covered in flour and spices as they ushered him to start working on some cupcakes for an order. Alistair nodded and began to work, glad to have something else to occupy his mind.
After half an hour had gone by, the cupcakes were baked and decorated. Alistair was going to leave them to cool, but the owner of the goodies had arrived early to take them to the party. The brunette was once again ushered out by the elderly woman to give the customer his items, to which he only nodded his head and did as he was told. But of course, Alistair wasn't the most balanced of people...
...and he tripped over a misplaced baking pan as he reached the counter.
Cupcakes went flying, as did the man himself. The baked goods landed all over the customer and his two friends, who were nothing more than local college students forced to pick up said goods by their parents most likely. Alistair's head smacked the counter and he withered to the ground, only to pop up seconds later with a rather large goose egg bruise on his forehead. As he went to apologize, however, the initial male grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and pulled him a bit too close for comfort.
"What the hell?! You ruined my new outfit bro! Maybe I should ruin your damn face to make up for it!" He growled out, to which his friends only laughed in reply. Instinctively Alistair recoiled in the male's grasp, too afraid of the repercussions to say or do anything in his own defense. emilian moise
sunlight glinted off the metallic surface of the cheap lighter, which rested innocently upon the jean clad knee of the togekiss. the lingering scent of tobacco surrounded him; however, in the dark alley, it merely mingled with the noxious perfume of rotting food and everyday garbage. his fingers itched to wrap around another slender cancer stick though he managed to contain his impulse. blunt nails pressed harshly into his palm while the back of his head rested against the rough texture of the brick wall behind him. emilian felt trapped between the two buildings that created his refuge, but he lacked the energy to face reality. with his unexpected acquisition of a free afternoon, he found himself floundering for an activity to waste his time upon. he had planned to spend his afternoon in the kitchen, slaving over pastries and providing the customers with scrumptious treats. his boss altered his plans without his consent, which resulted in his current situation.
a scowl graced his pale features as his chest heaved in a noticeable sigh. the expelled air created a notable sound, but the red head ignored the sudden shattering of the silence. pain laced through his arm when he increased the pressure against his palm; however, he wanted to utilize physical pain as a mechanism to chase away his unwanted thoughts and emotions. temptation surrounded him. pressure to remain strong surrounded him. emil struggled to tread water as he dealt with juggling his job and his siblings, and he deserved a break. and by break, he desired an uninterrupted, dreamless sleep for a week. it might provide him with the opportunity to reboot and escape from the fog of depression that seemed to hover around him like a heavy, unruly cloak.
with another sigh, emilian shifted his position, pulling his legs closer to his body and then propelling himself to his feet. the lighter collided with the ground, creating a momentary symphony of discordant sounds. a wince flashed across his mien as settled his foot over the contraption; however, he found himself incapable of destroying the object. shoulders shifted upward in a shrug as he removed his foot. the lighter remained on the ground while the pâtisserie departed from the alley, slipping into the throng of people that paraded up and down the streets of lakeport. pale hands disappeared into the pockets of his coat as he began walking toward an undecided locale. he allowed his subconscious to select his destination, so his feet merely moved, adopting to the flow of the crowd and transporting him from his hideout to the local bakery.
despite working with pastries on a daily basis, the russet haired male did not suffer from an incurable sweet tooth. no, he rarely sampled his own masterpieces unless creating a new pastry, so his destination elicited momentary surprise from the man. however, his siblings delighted in treats of any variety. with a roll of his jewel toned eyes, emil stepped into the quaint building, crossing over the threshold at the opportune moment for the injured brunette. dark brows furrowed as he observed the scene. frosting and ruined cupcakes littered the store and customers, and from the threatening stance of the supposed delinquent, he assumed that the youth was tormenting the green eyed employee.
pale lips curved into a frown while he strode across the short distance that separated him from the bully and victim. he wove around the youth’s friends and positioned himself next to the leader. slender fingers reached out and wrapped around the teen’s wrist, tightening subtly with each passing second, and with a forced cough, emilian attempted to divert attention away from the cornered prey. excuse me, he interrupted, not caring if he ruined the stranger’s tirade. could you release him? i need him alive and breathing in order to purchase something. with one brow raised, the togekiss waited for the tyrant’s response. after all, he would not mind an excuse to release stress by beating up a thug.
OOC
TAGGED ALISTAIR BARNETT WORD COUNT 665 NOTES pls excuse emil. idk what he's on.
Post by ALISTAIR BARNETT on Dec 15, 2014 5:29:01 GMT
I WISH I COULD MAKE IT EASY. EASY TO LOVE ME.
This was it. This was how he was going to die. Standing - or, well, being held up to be more exact - in a bakery by an angry man with cupcake frosting all over his nice (and seemingly expensive) clothes. The brunette sighed inwardly, green eyes opened wide to take in the situation. The man was a head shorter than he was, but that didn't mean anything to Alistair. He was shit in a fight, hence why he'd decided to take the route of a healer instead of a fighter. Plus, even if he could manage to put up some sort of scuffle, this guy had two lackeys behind him who wouldn't mind beating him to a pulp.
So he was in a lose-lose situation. The elderly couple came from the kitchens, each with a broom to shoo the trio out, but Alistair gave them a sharp look that sent them both back behind the counter. He was worried for their safety moreso than his own; it didn't matter if he got hurt, but if old people were beaten on his watch...well, Alistair would never forgive himself. So he turned back to his aggressor, ready to face whatever punishment was coming his way.
Or, well, he thought was coming, anyway.
The door of the establishment flung itself open to reveal a tall redhead who seemed...out of place within the small bakery. Alistair's mind was momentarily taken off the thug holding him so he could gaze upon the newcomer. Even though he wasinches from getting his head beaten to a pulp, he couldn't think of anything except for the way the man's red hair glittered in the sunlight--
Pow!
A fist connected with the brunette's jaw, sending him reeling backward. His lanky body crashed into the counter top and he effectively rolled over it until he was face-down on the tiled floor behind said counter. The male who had punched him smirked, obviously satisfied with his work, and rolled his shoulder around in its socket while turning his sharp eyes onto the redhead. "Shut the hell up, Red. You'll have your turn with him as soon as I'm done. Who said I was gonna kill him anyway? Just want to show him not to mess with someone like me or he'll pay the price."
Alistair really didn't want to move. The cool floor felt wonderful on his burning, bleeding face, but he knew he had to appease the men in some fashion so they'd leave the shop. Every movement felt like fire in his cheeks but he pushed aside the pain to slowly lift himself haphazardly onto the edge of the counter to look at the group before him. Blood seeped down the right side of his face from where he'd collided with the counter, but he stood his ground while emerald eyes bore into the male's own darker ones.
"I...'m...sorry..." He managed to grunt out, wincing at the fire in his face. "Let...me..." Alistair was about to reach into the register to refund the man for his order, but he and his two friends were already walking up to the counter for another run. "Nah, keep the money. Let me beat the fuck outta you and we'll cal it even, okay? Hell, we'll even keep this a secret from our old pops. Say we...forgot the cakes or some shit."
The brunette's eyes went wide, but after a moment he hung his head and nodded slightly. If it was the only way they'd leave... emilian moise
Post by emilian moise on Dec 15, 2014 17:37:50 GMT
OF TEARS YOU CANNOT KEEP FROM ME
when he entered the bakery, emilian did not expect to be subjected to the newest rendition of prey versus predator. dark brows furrowed as pale lips curved into a displeased frown. the current situation seemed surreal though he supposed it was unlike any televised documentary about the relationship between the hunted and the hunter, for the brunette accepted the stated punishment without contest. rage seeped into his mind like the piercing chill of a winter afternoon—swift and relentless. normally, he shied away from becoming invested in troublesome situations; however, he wanted to surprise his siblings with scrumptious treats. the bakery boasted of a worthwhile reputation, meaning that the little brats could not complain about the quality of the pastries. perhaps he should have become a chef instead of a pâtisserie.
despite being momentarily distracted from the ongoing confrontation, the togekiss reacted instinctively to the sound of the brunette’s voice. his lithe frame strode between the normal type and the trigger happy fiends. children suffered from a pack mentality, and by his rough hypothesis, the trio lacked experience and discipline. moreover, they apparently lacked intelligence; his assessment, however, was created based on spite, not actual observation. to be frank, emilian lacked an understanding of the situation. he stepped into the store as the leader’s fist connected with the brunette’s face. it had been a decent punch from what he witnessed, and due to his wandering thoughts, he missed the majority of the ensuing conversation. the frosting that covered the expensive clothing and the frightened expressions of the employee, however, prompted him to respond to the situation. maybe the owners should invest in a bodyguard. the brunette clearly was not a capable fighter; neither were they.
a yawn forced the red head’s jaw to crack. one gloved hand curled into a fist and collided with the palm of his other hand, and with his attention fixated on the trio, a dangerous smirk graced his features. excitement gleamed in his ruby hued eyes while he carefully shifted his weight from leg to leg, testing his combat capability with the movement and watching for their reaction to his threatening posture. oi, oi, emil breathed with his voice lathered in derision. we’re not brutes… the russet haired male paused, clearly pondering the uttered statement. sorry. with his head tipped toward the chansey and ancient couple, he corrected himself, wanting to provoke the imbeciles and delighting in the opportunity to unwind. they aren’t brutes. you are, so i suppose i should speak in plain terms. anticipation lined his features as his body tensed in preparation for a fight. you. me. fight. with the bait cast, he waited for the bullies to launch their retaliatory attack.
OOC
TAGGED ALISTAIR BARNETT WORD COUNT 450 NOTES sorry. emil's just goading them. he wants a fight.
Post by ALISTAIR BARNETT on Dec 16, 2014 0:49:33 GMT
I WISH I COULD MAKE IT EASY. EASY TO LOVE ME.
As Alistair prepared to go out to the back of the store with the three men, the redhead strangely enough stepped in to help. Immediately Alistair was confused. Why would a stranger want to help him? Did he know that he was a professor at the local university? Was he some kid looking for better his grade by helping him out? No...Alistair hadn't ever seen the likes of him before within the school's halls. He seemed too...old. Not old by age standards...but something about him suggested he'd had to grow up too quickly for him to ever have had a childhood. Hence the immediate need to fight. To protect?
But it didn't matter. Alistair didn't have time to think about the situation at hand because everything moved too fast for him to keep up. The redhead was talking...then made it his sole purpose to piss off the trio of males in front of the counter. The leader turned on him and grunted, only to then smirk and crack his knuckles. "Boys, take care of our 'friend' here. I'm going to deal with this asshole." And with that the male lunged forward with a strange grace about him, moving in quickly to deliver a punch to the gut while bending low to avoid a direct hit from the redhead.
While that fight was going on, the two other males jumped the counter to grab Alistair. The elderly couple was behind the counter and the brunette was afraid they'd get caught in the crossfire, so he did the only thing that seemed appropriate at the time...
He ran.
Of course he'd come back! Just...he had to get the fighting outside. Away from the bakery. If anyone else had gotten hurt because of him-- No, he didn't have time to think. His gangly legs were at least good for something, and he sprinted through the back of the kitchen until his hands finally pushed open the back door that led into an alley way. He was already tired and knew the two thugs were going to chase him, so he came to a halt and turned around, backing up until his back collided with a trashcan. The two were pissed that he'd run off like that, and immediately one of the duo sent a fist right into his gut.
"You'll pay for running, you little bitch!" He sneered, punching his face with another fist. This caused the male's glasses to go flying off, and the second male crushed them beneath his foot. "Oops. Sorry about that. I think this is going to be fun." Alistair simply took whatever came next, eventually falling to the ground as the two men continued to beat and kick him until blood began to seep from his mouth and whatever open skin could be found. emilian moise
anticipation thrummed through his veins as the leader stated his orders, and despite his unease upon noticing the lackeys racing after the brunette, emilian found himself unable to care. in an instant, the fight began with the brute throwing himself at the red head in a pitiful display of an attack. the togekiss sidestepped the straightforward punch and waited for the approaching collision. however, he blinked in surprise when the kid managed to halt his forward momentum before colliding with the counter, and in a calculated display of further goading, he slowly applauded the teen. a hum escaped him as he leaned his weight onto his left leg, preparing for his retaliatory action. so… you can throw a punch, he murmured with his smirk gaining a vindictive undertone. jewel toned eyes gleamed ominously as he observed the youth.
for him, combat was an art—one meant to showcase the skill of the combatants. he never expected fighting to morph into a contest of sheer strength, for he enjoyed the thrill of displaying his capabilities, not hammering away until the opponent admitted defeat. however, when emil gained guardianship over his siblings, violence became a mechanism to cope with the responsibilities of raising his sisters. he honed his craft in underground rings and in the alleys of shady businesses, and despite the bully’s apparent lack of skill, the fairy and flying type refused to show mercy. the thug decided his own fate when he began tormenting the defenseless employee of the bakery, opting for brutality despite being presented a peaceful solution. amusement colored his features as his right leg connected with the younger male’s stomach, and with the difference in their strength, the shorter male stumbled, backtracking until his back collided with the counter.
with an arm wrapped around his stomach, the tyrant managed to lift his head, wheezing noticeably and pinning emilian with a laughable glare; however, instead of suffering from the pâtisserie’s fist, a broom collided with the back of his head. during the other’s brief moment of inattention, the elderly couple shuffled into the main room with their chosen weapons and utilized the presented opportunity to display their rage. silent chuckles escaped the russet haired male as he plunged one of his hands into his pocket, fingers ghosting over the box of cigarettes. ruby red hued eyes watched as the ancient couple chased the youth out of the bakery with their endless stream of attacks, and while they handled the leader in their own quirky way, he began gliding toward the back door, intent on dealing with the misbehaving lackeys.
silent footsteps carried him into the alley behind the bakery, and from his vantage point, he could see the two idiots pounding away at the defenseless brunette. anger surged through his veins as he lifted his hand out of his pocket. a glow enveloped the gloved appendage, and with a devious smirk dominating his features, he launched aura spheres at the youths’ unprotected backs, sending two attacks consecutively and watching as they yelped in pain. in several calculated strides, emil obliterated the distance between himself and his chosen prey. he slipped between the enraged teens and the chansey without a sound while casting the sputtering boys an unimpressed glance. nice show, he drawled while flicking a dismissive gesture in their direction. it’s time for you to leave… now. and despite his lax posture, he was ready to leap into the fray if they decided to press their luck. he really hoped that they decided to tempt fate.
Post by ALISTAIR BARNETT on Dec 18, 2014 23:09:36 GMT
I WISH I COULD MAKE IT EASY. EASY TO LOVE ME.
No matter how he tried to heal himself, he couldn't. Alistair had always been gifted with such a task; even as a young boy he could heal severe injuries to himself or others around him with just a touch. Sure, the act would make him weary afterward, but that was nothing compared to the fact that he could potentially save a life with such ease. There was even a point in his life where Alistair found out he could heal himself while fighting; well, he wasn't technically fighting, more like...someone was beating him up and he could heal himself on the spot after each punch.
This time, however, the brunette found himself getting worse and worse by the second. Maybe he was so tired from the punches and kicks that he didn't have the willpower to heal himself? Or maybe the pain was too great, which was blocking out his ability? Regardless, everything was hurting and he wished it would all stop. His eyes were shut tight, but every time he'd open them he would see spots in his vision.
But as he slowly began to fade further and further into darkness, a loud banging noise seemed to bring him from the brink of passing out. Confused and a bit scared, the brunette could only open his eyes and slowly turn his head to see a pair of feet standing...the opposite direction of his own body. Wait. Was this...That voice...The redhead had come to rescue him? Alistair felt a rush of blood run across his cheeks, but he was sure the male before him hadn't seen the blush because he was too busy sending Aura Spheres at the two thugs. Thank the gods for that.
Instead of staying to fight, the cronies decided it best to leave the redhead alone. If he had taken out their friend - the leader apparently - then they realized they were no match for the newcomer. So with scowls and last-minute words they hurried off, leaving Alistair and his savior alone in the alleyway. The brunette didn't know what to do; half of him wanted to get up and thank the male, but the other half was in too much pain to really do much of anything.
"T-Thank...s..." Alistair managed to mutter out, eventually deciding to move into a sitting position on the ground. He grunted and winced, moving a hand to hold his ribs as he sat, but his mind was doing its best to not think of the pain. Instead, he was curious about the redhead who was standing before him. "Are...y-you...hurt?" So far all he could see was the backside of the male, and nothing looked out of place...He hoped the other hadn't gotten into too much trouble dealing with his aggressors. emilian moise
