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| A Whale of a Time | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Mar 22 2011, 07:43 AM (434 Views) | |
| zippy_zippy_no | Mar 22 2011, 07:43 AM Post #1 |
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Arty sighed, pulling gently on the reigns to keep them tight. The Don did not respond at all to the gesture, continuing to plod on at a slow but steady pace straight forward. Hayse breathily whistled a happy tune from her seat beside Arty, keeping a discretely wary eye on proceedings. Despite the fact that Arty had proved to be almost obsessively dutiful when it came to steering the caravan, Hayes just couldn’t bring herself to let Arty do the job on her own – after all the caravan (dubbed ‘A Horse with no Name’) was a privilege that Hayes had been forced to earn, and she wasn’t about to let just any pretty face go careening about with it. Arty was tired and dusty, and she had been driving for most of the day, which was greatly wearying when one conformed to the rules of the road. She had kept a close eye on the harness to make sure there were no faults, or knots, and she made sure the speed the caravan was going was well matched to the terrain to avoid damaging the vehicle. The muscles in her arms ached slightly from the prolonged strain of keeping the caravan on course, and she was starting to feel as though she was living, breathing and eating the dust of the road. It was taking longer than expected to reach Sky Mountain Range. Hayes explained that after ‘The Revolution’ what little road there had been in the desert had been quickly erased. Arty had fixed the harness as best she could in the previous town, but there simply weren’t the tools or material needed for a proper fix. In the end she had been forced to give it the ‘bush mechanic’ treatment, and warn Hayes that it would probably only get to the next big town… if they were careful. They hadn’t seen anyone else for almost a week, and although the caravan was generally well stocked they had run out of apples the day before. Luckily The Don didn’t know about the apple shortage yet, and Hayes and Arty were hoping to get to the mountains before he did. Hayes had been her normal cheery self. While Arty had been close to her Grandfather they had never been the type to hug, or talk, both being rather fond of personal space and economic with their words. Hayes on the other hand was the sort who gesticulated wildly as she talked, and was constantly putting her hand on Arty casually, feeling no qualms about hugging her companion, or even so much as kissing Arty’s cheek when she grew excited about something or other that they were talking about. What had started out as discomfit for Arty had slowly eased into weary resignation as the dark skinned trainer was forced to endure the overly friendly company. It had been a hot day, as always and Arty felt hot and sticky with sweat, making the dirt cling to her ever more determinedly. She had procured an old battered leather hat from the caravan and it sat low on her head, casting a long shadow over her face in the orange light of sunset. In the desert there were very few tall hills, and the light stretched on uninhibited for quite a way, making the days seem longer than they really were. Over the last few days Arty had slowly recovered her strength, until she finally felt like a real human being again. Arty cast a glance at Hayes, who seemed to be enjoying herself. She was lounging in the tepid sunlight like a cat on a porch, with an equally feline smirk etched on her otherwise pretty face. Dunlop trundled beside the cart happily, apparently pleased to talk with The Don. Arty knew that the little phanpy disliked being cooped up in his pokeball for longer than necessary, and didn’t often force him into it. Suddenly Hayes’ chin lifted and her gaze grew sharp as the red head focused in on something. The Don had stopped, and the deep sand they were ploughing through had quickly caused The Horse with no Name to slow and halt. From somewhere in the distance there came a rumbling that Arty could almost feel in her chest, despite the fact that it was barely audible – almost as though it were too low a frequency for her to comprehend. For a moment the desert trembled, before suddenly it stopped. Being a desert, it was never particularly noisy, but now it felt eerily quiet. Arty cleared her throat, “That little town is up ahead. We should push on.” Hayes nodded, remaining sitting upright – her smile erased. Her gaze was fixed on the horizon and every now and then the trainer would stand on the wooden seat to look out behind the caravan, just to make sure they weren’t being hunted down. Edited by zippy_zippy_no, Mar 22 2011, 07:51 AM.
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Bo G Gart - The Grinning Trainer
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| Wakelord | Mar 25 2011, 06:29 AM Post #2 |
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The rumbling sands worried Hayes. The vibrations made the sand dance down the dunes and into the miniature valleys where the grains bounced and jigged about in nature’s mosh pit. The bouncing sand disturbed the Don, who tended to drag the caravan partially submerged in the sand, but it wasn’t the Don that made Hayes worried. It was what could make that kind of vibration. The last time she had heard it was only a few months ago, when the Legendary Revolution had occurred and the world had been turned topsy turvy. Could the Legendary pokemon already have returned to attack once again? Short of some sort of sandy tsunami Hayes was sure she and Arty would be fine, but her friends in the many desert towns might not, or her extended family. Her ambulatory family wandered through the deserts from town and town and often had to stop at the small, rare oases in-between. If the disturbance was too large many of those oasis would be inundated with sand and her family might expire. Some time after the rumble Arty spoke up, announcing that a town was nearby. Hayes nodded in a distracted manner. It starkly contrasted her usual behaviour, which probably would have involved throwing her arms up in the air and joyfully hugging Arty at the idea of swimming or showering to cool down and clean up. Her thoughts continued to well up more and more inside her mind until they finally spilled out her mouth. Once she had started, she couldn’t stop herself. ”That rumble. It gets me all worried-like. Last time I felt something like that was the revo, and I really hoped them legendary pokemon aren’t back. I know we promised to stand up against those bosses, but I thought we’d have a few more people, a few more pokemon, and a few more months before they returned. I’m scared, and I want to get to that town as soon as possible.” She lapsed into silence, looking sightlessly at the wood grain of the seat beside her. ”But Horsey,” as she called (but not named per se) her caravan for short, ”Is already at top-speed with the Don pulling. But ah! We can still get there quicker still!” Without any explanation Hayes got up from the seat and ducked into the shade of the caravan. She rummaged about for a few seconds before returning with the well-varnished barrel lid from the apple keg. It was round and large, with a thick inner lip. She tossed it onto the sand and ducked back into the shade. She returned once again with a long length of rope and this time she jumped down onto the sand. She shrieked in surprise when she fell in all the way to her knees and extracted herself with some difficulty. The sand was less densely packed here, particularly after the earthquake like rumble earlier. With some difficulty she waded over to the phanpy. She dropped the coil of rope there and finally looked back at Arty. ”It’s simple. We’ll leave the caravan here for a little bit, just so we can check on the town quick smart. I’ll unhitch the Don and ride bareback. You can surf behind Dunlop here. Just get Mr Dun to roll into a ball, stick the rope through the middle, and then hold onto the ropes. Me and my older bro did it a few times when wes were little. Surfing on the lid should make it a tad easier too.” Hayes looked expectantly at Arty. The redhead was assertive and decisive, but her ideas were not always pragmatic or well thought out. She wanted to check the town now, and she presumed the Horse With No Name wouldn’t be stolen or destroyed in the empty desert expanses. |
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Erasmus' Timeline Hayes' Timeline Shorts Man Erasmus![]() | |
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| zippy_zippy_no | Apr 5 2011, 03:08 AM Post #3 |
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Arty paused uncertainly. What Hayes had said about a second coming of The Revolution sent a stab of fear into her stomach, and her chest tightened with anxieties to do with her grandfather, but Arty didn’t like the idea of leaving The Horse in the desert on its own. “How about you and the Don head into town, and Dunlop and I will stay here with the caravan. We’ll make sure no harm comes to it.” Hayes was about to reply when the Don started to nudge at the barrel lid in her hand, smelling the apple on it. He gave a few mournful murmurs, as if realising what this meant about the apple supply. Clearly agitated and impatient, Hayes wanted to leave right away, and with Arty holding her ground Hayes quickly left without her companion, promising to be back later with news of what was going on. With a graceful motion, Hayes flung herself onto the Don’s back and whispered something in his ear. The Don gave a roar of enthusiasm and bolted towards the distant town, spraying Arty and phanpy with sand in his eagerness to get away. ‘phanpy phanpy’ Muttered Dunlop to himself. For once Arty couldn’t easily discern what was on his mind. The two waited in tense silence as the sun seemed to soak into the sand on the horizon. Arty sat on the bare wooden seat for the driver, having packed away the leather harness after giving it a thorough cleaning and maintenance. The leather dried out very easily in the desert sun, and required a lot of love and attention. Arty was non-plussed when it came to the love part, but as a mechanic she could do attention. With nothing left to do but watch the air shimmer with a stifling afternoon heat, however, Arty couldn’t help but worry. Dunlop had crawled under the caravan to get out of the sun, and Arty cowered under her wide brimmed hat, already feeling the hot sting of sunburn on her arms and shoulders. Starting soft but quickly building, there was a deep rumbling coming from the ground. The bare metal on the caravan’s arms, designed to strap on the harnesses, jangled discordantly. Arty’s teeth chattered in her mouth, and her hands felt fuzzy as they shook uncontrollably. More frightening, however, was the feeling of the rumbling in her chest. It was much closer than last time. There was a surprised shriek from under the caravan, and Arty’s gaze snapped down toward her pokemon. “Dunlop!” Arty leapt off the caravan in alarm, nearly stumbling as her feet were quickly sucked into the loose sand. It wasn’t her that she was worried about, however, as the caravan itself was slowly being consumed by the desert. The shaking ground was slowly but surely dragging the heavy wooden vehicle down, and Dunlop had been caught underneath it. A thin trunk poked out somewhat pathetically from the side of Horse, and Arty waded towards her stricken friend, trying to dig her way through the hot sand to reach Dunlop. She stuck her arms under the surface, quickly giving up her digging efforts in an attempt to prevent her pokemon from sinking too deep. The caravan was so low by this point, however, that she was unable to easily reach under it to retrieve the small phanpy. Just as suddenly as it had started, the rumbling stopped, and Arty was buried up to her chest, her fingers just brushing against Dunlop under the sands. Not waiting to see if the shaking would start up again, Arty struggled to free herself, before digging Dunlop out frantically. It took a good ten minutes to uncover the little phanpy, but Dunlop was largely uninjured, other than being very frightened. Arty pulled her pokemon tight against her chest and patted it reassuringly, feeling her own fear subside slowly. The immediate danger was over, but the caravan was half sunk into the desert now, and it seemed impossible to shift. For the next half hour, Arty and Dunlop toiled to free The Horse, digging away the sands at its wheels. They pushed and pulled and heaved until the caravan came free, hauling it a short distance from where it had been, Arty and Dunlop slumped at the caravan’s base, sandier than ever. Arty closed her eyes briefly, feeling bone weary, when the rumbling started up again. With a yelp, she and Dunlop were quick to leap away from the caravan. The shaking was even worse this time – much much closer. Arty’s joints ached from the shaking and she was forced to grab Dunlop under one arm or risk him sinking into the sands again. She herself had to keep moving to remain above ground, gasping as one of her shoes was pulled off. She couldn’t risk trying to retrieve it, and it was quickly swallowed. The other shoe quickly filled with sand, weighing the dark skinned trainer down. Most worrying of all, however, was the caravan. It was disappearing all too swiftly, and Arty was forced to make a grab for the arms, as the tide of sand came up to the halfway point and threatened to bury them. With her muscles screaming at her, and a frightened phanpy pinned under one arm, Arty struggled with The Horse, trying to pull it back above the sand. In the process she could feel herself sinking deeper. Although Arty managed to keep the arms above ground, she was horrified to find herself up to her naval in sand. Slowly the sand rose, taking Arty and The Horse with it. Arty closed her eyes, struggling to remain above ground, and keep a hold of the caravan at the same time. Just as she realised there was no way she could save herself any more, let alone the caravan, the trembling stopped again. Gasping with relief, Arty put her pokemon on the ground. Arty herself was buried almost to her breasts. Using the arms of the caravan as a lever, she started to pull herself out. Dunlop tried to assist but he was almost eye deep in loose sand anyway. A dark shadow eclipsed the dimming light of afternoon as Arty made it halfway out of her impromptu grave, sending cold shudders down Arty’s spine. Twisting, she tried to see what was behind her. It looked to be a large wooden ship, but with the sun behind it, the exact details were difficult to make out. Some person stood astride the bow looking down. For a moment hope rose in Arty’s breast, until she saw what looked like a cannon aimed in her direction. “Reach for the sky, scumbag!”
Edited by zippy_zippy_no, Apr 12 2011, 12:32 AM.
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Bo G Gart - The Grinning Trainer
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| Wakelord | Apr 7 2011, 10:01 AM Post #4 |
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“How about you and the Don head into town, and Dunlop and I will stay here with the caravan. We’ll make sure no harm comes to it.” Before Hayes’ mind had even begun to consciously register Arty’s declination the red haired teenage was already stooping down to affix Dunlop to the rope. Hayes was so used to interpreting Arty’s comments that Arty had to repeat herself a few times before Hayes realised that her companion actually intended to stay with the wagon rather than head into town. ”B-but ..” Was all Hayes could protest with. She didn’t want to admit she would be lonely without Arty with her, or that she had become rather reliant on having a second pair of eyes around. If the town was being attacked by some God-like being having some back-up and an extra few pokemon would have really came in handy. ”Well … all right then. If there’s any apples in town I’ll get you a few. After all, I gotta feed you one everyday!” Hayes finished her quip as she fluidly leapt bareback onto the Don. The pokemon dipped out of its harness, almost submerging Hayes to her waist in the process before it surfed back to the surface. With a loud snort like that of a racehorse the pokemon surged into motion. It steadily sped up until a wake of sand trailed behind the speedy swimmer. It had been a long time since the Don had swam freely through the desert, and even longer since it had really pushed itself to move as fast as it could. It had heard the magical words ‘Apples … get you… feed.’ It wanted to get to town, and fast. Don burst through the peak of a sandy dune and was momentarily airborne before it burst back into the sea of sand in a gigantic spray. ”Easy boy easy! I don’t need sand everywhere!” Hayes complained as she brushed the worst of the sand from her clothes and hair even though she knew from experience it was an entirely futile motion. In what seemed like no time the pair crossed the few miles between their caravan and the town. On first appearances everything seemed okay. The flat roofs were intact, the alabaster white walls were whole and there were no out of control fires or gigantic pokemon looming over the village. The worst of Hayes’ fears quickly disappated, but the town still didn’t seem quite right. There were far too few people on the streets for one. Those who were out scuttled from house to house in exaggerated tip-top motions rather than lounging about in the doorways and until bazaars as they usually tended to. Something was wrong at least. The Don put on an extra turn of speed now that the town was in sight. They practically skimmed across the sand like a hydrofoil before slowing to a stop within Cyan Village. Cyan Village was a well town of hipsters. It was famous for it really. For a brief time the town had tried to rebel against being a hipster town by being a hipster-hipster, but the connotations of that made too many people’s head hurt, especially when hipsters of hipster-hipster started to appear. Antidisestablishmentarianism aside Cyan village was friendly, welcoming and a very fun place to be in. Music usually spilled out of taverns, libraries and homes alike where each person had their own unique flavour. Unusual foods and weird fashions used to dominate the streets and everyone used words that both intrigued and amused Hayes. However, today the town was quiet. The music was no longer blaring from every window, but could only faintly be heard as a whisper from one or two buildings. The gypsy felt like she was intruded on some village-wide game of hide & seek. She walked into an open square surrounded by homes. There was movement in several windows, but no-one came out to greet her. ”Hello?” Called Hayes, ”I’m here leading a caravan full of poke-supplies and I was wondering if anyone could tell me what was going on? Cyan village seems really quiet and an hour back there was this big earthquake or something. Is everyone all right?” A door opened nearby to Hayes and a teenage girl poked her head out. Her ears were cloaked under a gigantic pair of headphones that physically pulsed and vibrated about the girl’s ears from the music that must be playing behind them. The girl made a shushing motion and spoke in what she clearly thought was a whisper. ”SHH! Everyone’s got to be quiet a’right! If yer loud then the Jhen Wahlord will come and we’ll all be squished. That huuumongous Wahlord’s been surfing through the sand for the last month. Wheneva we weres loud it’d come closer. Wheneva we shutup it’d surf away again. My parents reckon its all our rockin bass & beats that draw the Wahlord so close. Everyone else reckons its just noise, so all the stalls are quiet or closed. It’s so boring! Wanna come inside?” The change of conversation caught Hayes off-guard. Her ears were ringing from the shouted knowledge, and if the girl was that loud inside Hayes knew she’d get a headache after just a few minutes. The buxsome redhair tried to pantomime that she was going to look about, but after a few obscure motions the other girl shrugged, blew a kiss and went back inside. ”So a giant Wailord is in the area. The Jhen Wailord ey..? I’ve never heard of one in the desert, but I guess if the Don can swim in there there’s no reason a big fish couldn’ … There’s no revolution at least, just a giant wailord … in the desert … near where we were … Art!” Faster than she had ever run before Hayes sprinted down the sandy streets to where she had left the Don. She had been robbed of conscious thought as a whirlwind of worries and anxieties whirled through her mind. The pokemon had found its way to a closed greengrocer and was busy devouring buckets of lettuce that had been left alone. Hayes shouted out to Don to get to her. The hippopotas sensed her urgency and came galloping over. At the last second it jumped, and partially submerged itself into the sand. When Hayes clambered aboard the Don set off like a lightning bolt back to where she left Arty. ’Come on Arty .. be okay be okay … I hope you weren’t too loud while I was gone!’ Edited by Wakelord, Apr 7 2011, 10:03 AM.
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Erasmus' Timeline Hayes' Timeline Shorts Man Erasmus![]() | |
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| zippy_zippy_no | Apr 8 2011, 03:41 AM Post #5 |
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Arty glared up at the silhouette, raising her hands slowly into the air. Seemingly placated by the gesture, the person leapt to the ground at the foot of her ship. It was clearly the captain of the ship – and female. One half of her head was shaved down to a fine fuzz, while down the middle was a fauxhawk of long red hair that dangled limply along her shoulders and back. The woman was wearing a brown coat, tight red pants, and knee high black boots with large buckles. She wore more than one belt and had on a pair of huge sunglasses that took up a large portion of her face. Two cigarettes dangled stylishly from her lower lip and her face was adorned with pale powder and heavy eyeliner. In a similar way a stylish looking gun dangled from her fingers, held in a limp, lacklustre grasp. If Arty hadn’t been up to her knees in sand, she might have thought of making a dive for it. “Right, what have you done with Hayes? She would never willingly give up The Horse.” Arty frowned at the implication of familiarity. Who was this woman and how did she know Hayes so well as to recognise the caravan? Seeing that Arty didn’t immediately answer, the woman tightened her grip on her gun, raising it to point at Arty in a more efficient manner. The threat was clear. “I’m travelling with Hayes – she took the Don to town to find out what the shaking was about…” The woman considered this for a moment or two before tucking the gun into what looked to be a pocket. “Alright sure. Let’s get to town and see if your story checks out.” With a piercing whistle (Arty wasn’t quite sure how the woman managed it without violently ejecting the cigarettes but she did) two men leapt down from the boat, and with a certain amount of ease they secured The Horse to the ship. After that they climbed back up a rope ladder at the side of the ship. Arty struggled out of the sand, before grabbing Dunlop’s pokeball from her pocket. She blew off the sand and bid her friend to return, as she was worried that the crew of this strange sand ship were of hostile intent. The captain gestured for Arty to follow, and, suspicious and confused, the dark skinned trainer complied. The captain climbed up last. As she got to about half way up, the shaking started again. It wasn’t quite as bad as before, but from her vantage point on deck, Arty could see a vague shape in the distance rising up out of the sand. It was difficult to tell in the half-light of the afternoon, but it looked giant. “Move Move!” Shouted the captain, still scrambling to get on deck. With a heavy ‘WHUMPH’ the sail unfurled and was secured. A cold breeze whipped up, making Arty’s neck and shoulders tingle with relief. It filled the sails and the ship began to move, slowly picking up speed as it went. None too gently, The Horse was dragged out of the sands, and set to rattling along behind the ship. “Not too much breeze, dear!” Called out the captain. She was on deck and had managed to get within three feet of Arty without the dark skinned trainer realising. Arty cringed at the loud shout, turning to find that the woman was shouting to her marill, who was standing on the foredeck. It nodded, a constipated expression of concentration on it’s face, and the breeze slackened slightly. The captain nodded to herself, and then, ignoring Arty completely, snapped a telescope out of hammerspace, keeping an eye on the strange anomaly on the horizon. Edited by zippy_zippy_no, Apr 8 2011, 03:44 AM.
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Bo G Gart - The Grinning Trainer
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| Millie | Apr 8 2011, 03:05 PM Post #6 |
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A Stravia roosted on a nearby rock.cawed happily to a Snivy that rested on a rock below it. The Snivy looked hapily at a werewolf who was howling happily. She bounded to a road where she saw a boy OOC;or girl. IC; She ran off. She bounded to the top of the mountailn.
Edited by Millie, Apr 8 2011, 04:20 PM.
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Lily Core Team Skitty Spike Male 0/4 Spot Female Skitty 0/4 Spot Skitty female 0/4 | |
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| Wakelord | Apr 14 2011, 11:09 AM Post #7 |
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The Don surged out from the town like fish that had been freed from an angler. The hefty pokemon darted left and right to avoid unseen obstacles as it slowly picked up speed. It was not a 'sprinter' but rather a 'locomotive,' in so far as it was only really economical to ride a Hippopotas once it really got moving, but it could go for hours and hours on end without slacking its pace. Cyan Town quickly fell into the distance and the dunes rose up about Hayes and her pokemon. They traversed the plains just as quickly as before, with the Don having a keen, homing-pidgeon like sense to where he was in relation to Horsie. Hayes kept her eyes peeled for the vividly painted wagon, or some form of gigantic desert-swimming whale. She didn't entirely know what a wailord looked like, but had heard that they were bigger than a football field and the colours of the ocean. As the minutes passed no blue beastie rose out of the sands, but by the same token neither did the vividly painted sides of Horsies. Hayes was just starting to worry if the heat had gotten to the Don when something other than sand caught her eye. It was too far in the distance to make out, but it seemed to be moving at a good clip. The Don was bearing straight down on whatever it was. 'If that's the Horsie then Dunlop is a damn fast steed. I wonder if it's got the stamina too ... I bet the Don would like a break every now and again.' However as the object moved closer Hayes was able to make out it was not Horsie. For one, it was riding far too high above the sand. Secondly, it had a mast and sails. Unless Arty was a very quick mechanic, the Horse with No Name definately lacked sails. What the object was suddenly struck home. It was The Sandy Crotch; one of Cyan town's local attractions. It was a boat that road the sands from a maril with a super-powerful icy wind technique. "Jeanie!" Hayes exclaimed. She and Jean, or Jeanie as Hayes called the woman, had a long history together. They had met several years ago, and Hayes often made a point to spend a few weeks in Cyan town to catch up with her friend whenever she passed that way . Traditionally she and Jeanie had a great time together, but the last two meetings had been a bit strained. Jeanie had taken to smoking, and had been increasingly focued on catching 'shiny' pokemon. The shiny pokemon really were a sight to behold- they tended to glitter whenever they were exposed. Her favourite type was the bat pokemon 'Wubat,' which she had named Edward. While she and Jeanie were still on speaking terms, Hayes was feeling more luke-warm about her long time companion after each meet up. As such it wasn't with joy that Hayes recognised the ship. Instead she felt aprehensive. The Don bared down on the ship, and in turn the ship slightly altered its route to line up with the pokemon. There were a few bright flashes of light from the prow of the ship, and the faintest cry of 'hoooy there' just managed to reach Hayes' ears. She made a big point to wave back, but the motion was lacklustre. Soon enough the two parties drew alongside each other, and a rope ladder was thrown over the side. Hayes returned the Don to its pokeball and climbed aboard. She was still in her skirts, rather than riding pants, so even the simple activity of climbing the boat was frustrating difficult. With no amount of grace Hayes scrambled aboard, panting from the effort. Someone passed her a bottle of Fresh Water, which Hayes gulped down in an instant. It was hot in desert, and she had been sweating something chronic. "Thanks Jeanie, that really hit the spot. You did always know what I needed." "I'll try to keep that in mind." Was Arty's sarcastic reply. Hayes squarked out in supply and quickly backpeddled several paces. A cold sweat broke out across her forehead. Arty! And Jeanie! Together! Two of Hayes' girls in the same spot! This was Hayes' nightmare come true. Both of the ladies had a terrible anger, and neither were gentle in their rebukes. The redhaired woman was what could be described as a 'player.' She liked to have many friends, but liked to make sure each individual friend never met another. Everyone was much happier that way- especially Hayes. She had known one day her lifestyle would come to bite her in the rear, but the idea that it would be with Arty & Jeanie was such terrible, terrible luck. Back in the gypsy woman tried to stammer out a reply, but only a wordless horror snuck from her lips. After several false attemps she was finally able to make a reply. She talked in one long sentence as her mind scrambled to find some way to escape. "Ah-ah-arty! So good to see you. What are you doing here! Well I guess we best go now don't you think? Well it's been great seeing you Jeanie if you're about but I think we really need to get going. Remember Arty how we needed to do that thing really quickly and far away? Like now. Fighting stuff. Not personal stuff. All fighting and helping and some more fighting. Let's go hahaha.
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Erasmus' Timeline Hayes' Timeline Shorts Man Erasmus![]() | |
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| zippy_zippy_no | Apr 27 2011, 03:21 AM Post #8 |
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“So… travelling with Hayes are you?” Ventured the captain, still looking out at the vague silhouette on the horizon. Arty gave a non-committal reply, not ready to lump herself together with Hayes in case the roguish gypsy woman had a bad rep with the pirate hypsters. There was a thoughtful pause as the captain took a long drag on her cigarettes. Expelling a large cloud of smoke from her nose and mouth in a deep sigh, the captain snapped her telescope shut and pocketed it, turning to give Arty a long evaluating look. “I suppose her tastes run more to the mild these days.” She finally said, disappointment clear in the tone. Arty frowned furiously, sure that there was some not-so-hidden criticism in the comment. “How about I swab the deck with your face – would that be mild enough for you?” Offered Arty helpfully, more than ready to follow through with the threat. She was liking the pirate less and less the longer she stayed on the boat. Amused, Jean quirked a finely drawn-on eyebrow, but before she could comment there was a shout from one of the men who was acting as a lookout. Jean immediately dropped the conversation and leapt forward, spyglass already pressed to her eye. “It’s Hayes and The Don” Announced the captain, sneaking a glance back at Artie who glowered menacingly at her. Turning back to the sandy panorama before her, Jean called out a loud, HOOOY THERE! and was rewarded with a small wave. Jean was not only fond of shiny pokemon, she had become quite the magpie. The Sandy Crotch had been blinged up with a number of highly polished bronze mirrors, and all of the crew consisted of well tanned men and women who wore nothing but sequined swimsuits. It was incredibly tacky, but also very shiny, which is (presumably) why Jean had done it (although it may have been for shits and giggles). As Hayes struggled to get aboard, Arty sorted out a bottle of water for her travel companion, who was no doubt a little dusty in the throat after her dash to the city and back. "Thanks Jeanie, that really hit the spot. You did always know what I needed." "I'll try to keep that in mind." Arty’s half lidded eyes displayed just the right amount of scorn, and the dark skinned trainer continued to apply the look as Hayes reeled back in horror. Arty pursed her lips, adding a dash of disapproval to the mix as Hayes’ mouth flapped open and closed like a guppy at feeding time. “Huh! It’s nice to see you too” "Ah-ah-arty! So good to see you. What are you doing here! Well I guess we best go now don't you think? Well it's been great seeing you Jeanie if you're about but I think we really need to get going. Remember Arty how we needed to do that thing really quickly and far away? Like now. Fighting stuff. Not personal stuff. All fighting and helping and some more fighting. Let's go hahaha.” Arty was unimpressed as Hayes’ grabbed her arm and attempted to fling them both bodily over the railing. With a shout of surprise Arty secured herself, yanking her arm from Hayes’ grasp. “What are you thinking!?” Hayes shook her head, seeming to snap out of whatever funk she was in. Arty exchanged a dubious look with Jean who shrugged before replacing one of her old cigarettes with a fresh one. “So you’re busy then Hayes. That’s a shame; when I saw The Horse I was hoping…” Jean cast a glance at Arty. The woman had to be smarter than she looked, however, and seemed to have mellowed out a little. Her attitude towards Hayes was much more luke-warm than fiery and hot-tempered. “I was hoping you could help us with a whale of a problem. Jenna Wablord has been terrorising these parts of the desert since The Revolution. I was thinking we might go out in The Crotch like we used to in the good ol’ days and have ourselves a regular Whale hunt.” Arty was so preoccupied with thinking about this new information that she almost failed to notice the phrase ‘good ol’ days’. Curiosity was kindled in the mechanic as she realised that perhaps Hayes and Jean were more than acquaintances, and she wondered privately if she could find out more about what sort of history they had. Knowing as much about her semi-trustworthy travel companion as possible was quickly becoming one of the top items on a list of things to do, after all, if Arty planned to trust this woman with her life (again) then she had better make sure her confidence wasn’t misguided. “We-“ “We will help you. After all we set out to protect the innocent from the Revolution, so I think this rather falls under that jurisdiction.” Declared Arty, glaring at Hayes as if daring the woman to contradict her. An amused smile broke out on Jean’s face. “Protect the innocent you say. Well that is interesting.” The hypster purred. With her smile widening, the woman held out a hand to Arty to shake, and hesitantly the dark skinned trainer complied. “It is good to have you aboard Arty, Hayes. We have lots to do if we want to stop Wablord before it completely destroys Cyan village. Let me show you the cannons. You won’t remember them Hayes – they are only one of the improvements we’ve made to old Crotchy.” Jean took Arty by the elbow, gently guiding the mechanic towards the cannons at the side of the ship. Arty would have protested, but soon she was preoccupied with an in-depth conversation about the cannon construction. It turned out Jean had designed the weapons herself in response to the Wablord threat. Arty was greatly impressed, and her opinion of Jean was raised several notches as the hypster discussed the finer points of artillery construction, showing off her impressive knowledge of weaponry mechanics in the process. Arty spent a good part of the next hour checking out the cannons and other weaponry, having been invited to do so by the captain herself. Everything looked to be well cared for, and functional, leaving Arty feeling pleased and satisfied. The woman wiped her greasy hands off on a rag as she walked casually over to Arty and Hayes on the foredeck. Arty had quickly grown used to the peculiar movement of the ship as it skipped over the dunes enthusiastically. Jean turned to great Arty, giving the trainer an indulgent smile. “How did you like my machinery? Impressive isn’t it?” “Yes very! All the parts are functioning perfectly, and everything seems to be well lubricated.” Arty spoke with the honesty of a workman. Jean chuckled, throwing a playful glance at Hayes before continuing, “We’re nearing the Wablord, how do you feel about accompanying me to the crow’s nest? I’ll let you borrow my toy – it’s extendable.” Jean gestured towards the telescope on her belt. With a grim nod Arty accompanied the captain to the rigging where Jean began to climb, belatedly calling down to Hayes, “Sorry darling, only fits two people. You don’t mind waiting up here while I give Art a tour of the Crotch do you?” Without waiting for a reply, the two women ascended the rigging, quickly making their way to the crow’s nest. It was much draftier than down on the ship, and the nest swayed and tilted alarmingly. Arty swallowed her anxieties. She wasn’t afraid of heights, but she hadn’t expected the nest to be so unstable, and could almost imagine it coming down at any second. “There do you see it?” Jean broke into Arty’s worries, handing her the telescope and pointing out toward the horizon. Arty put the telescope to her eye but couldn’t see anything through it. “No? Ah- I see it now!” Jean had stepped behind Arty, and reached around to correct the gaze of the lens so that Arty was looking in the right direction. “We’ll draw alongside it in ten minutes, so it is time to ready the cannons... and the men.” Jean said decisively. “Okay let’s get down. Be careful now, it’d be a shame if you should fall, my dear.”
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Bo G Gart - The Grinning Trainer
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| Wakelord | May 1 2011, 11:14 AM Post #9 |
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“We will help you. After all we set out to protect the innocent from the Revolution, so I think this rather falls under that jurisdiction.” ”Bu… Fine, but this rests on your head, Arty.” Arty seemed reluctant to leave the sandboat, in fact, she downright seemed to enjoy the stay. On the other hand Hayes couldn’t wait to get off. First and foremost she didn’t want Jeanie to reveal that she had history with Hayes, and she equally didn’t want Arty to reveal there was history to be made. But secondly Hayes was always on the metaphorical back-foot around Jeanie. Jeanie always knew how to push Hayes’ buttons (so to speak) and seemed to be able to exert some degree of control over Hayes. The gypsy didn’t always enjoy feeling that way. As far as Hayes was concerned, the sooner this Wablord problem was solved the better. Jeanie took Arty to the cannons, and Hayes rolled her eyes and muttered at the retreating figures. ”You did always like your toys Jeanie, but even you’re not that loose.” After a few minutes of waiting around Hayes realised that the two of them would be talking for some time about the cannons, and Hayes went to find some food for the Don. The Sandy Crotch was a shallow-hulled boat, so there was only one storey below the deck, but it was where Hayes always preferred to be when she was aboard. The cook knew her well, and scrounged together half a dozen apples for the hippopotas. After a quick chat with Cook Silver & his chalot, Hayes re-emerged onto the deck. Compared to the galley below it was hot and dry, with sand pricking at any naked skin (of which there was plenty, what with the swimsuit models). A quick scout about revealed that Arty was mesmerised with the cannons, but Jeanie was at the foredeck with her telescope out. ’This’ll be a good chance to have a private chat to Jeanie. If I do it right I can hopefully make her think everything is platonic with Arty, and at the same time make sure she doesn’t blow my cover. Allrighty Hayes, you can do this!’ With this plan in mind Hayes siddled up to her old partner in crime. ”Hey babe. Good to see you again, ey? I like what you did the place. Bit of a surprise that you’ve turned monster-hunter, ey? I remember, back in the day …” She blathered on, warming Jeanie up by remembering the good times, and carefully jumping over the rocky times. ”…But I should mention Arty, before I forget. You know how forgetful I can be. Arty … she’s different. She’s not one of us- You know … a merchant. She’s a city girl who wants to save the world from those Legendaries, and I gotta keep her safe. Big mumma Hayes, that’s me. So I’ve got to keep all the boys from her, and some of the girls too so she doesn’t get distracted. Can I trust you’ll stay true?” Jean seemed to consider the idea. She was silent for some time, and just drew silently on her cigarettes. She reached a decision, and blew out a small sphere of smoke. ”Oh, you know me Hayes. I'd never do anything.” She smiled her coy smile. It was a damnably good one, and had been one of the things that had first sparked the adventures Hayes had had with the pirate. Before Hayes had a chance to get a more concrete promise from Jeanie Arty intruded, complimenting the smoker on this and that. Jeanie was quick to change the subject, and with no more than a sly wink took Arty away to the crow’s nest. The Crotch had once had a landing strip there, but it seemed these days Jeanie preferred the more conventional nest. All in all, Hayes felt a little bit jealous. Hayes and Arty were on an adventure to fight Legendary pokemon, and then just when they find one Jeanie appears with her cannons and her army and her big fancy ship. It made Horsie look lame, and Hayes knew from experience that Jeanie never did things in half measures. The cannons would pack a serious wallop- probably using highly trained electrodes to wear the Wablord down. Well two could play the hero game. With a childish pout Hayes stormed back inside the Sandy Crotch. Many things had changed, but she was sure that Jeanie would have kept a few trinkets the same from last time. The gypsy rummages about for a few minutes, getting this and that, before she emerged like a new woman. On her head she wore a stylish aviator helmet with the extra-large goggles, a white scarf that was wrapped into a black leather vest, a pair of thick black stockings and knee-high boots. To give the ensemble a bit more flair she wore a baby-blue mini-skirt. In one arm she had a bandoleer filled with identical pokeballs, and in her left she cupped a netball and repeatball. Giving no-one a chance to stop her Hayes darted off and leaped from the boat. Before she crashed into the ground she threw the two pokeball down, releasing her trusty hippopotas as well as an octillery. Hayes had given the octillery to Jeanie years ago now, and for a long time it had been the guardman of the Sandy Crotch against wild pokemon or unsuitable suitors alike. Hayes landed on the Don’s back with a practised ease, and the octillery, Soggy King, slurped up onto one shoulder. ”Don. King. We’re going whale hunting. We’re inna race to beat the boat to see who can fight off the Wablord away from the towns and stuff. "Now Don, you’re my pilot. King, you’re my power. Between the three of us we can beat an entire sandship! Woraaaarrrr!” She kneed the Don and he was off, streaming ahead of the boat and with a large trail of wake behind him. Hayes strapped the bandoleer across her chest, and took out the first pokeball. With a practiced motion she plopped it in Octillery’s mouth, ready for when she would come into range of the Wablord. Soggy King didn’t have the range that a cannon had, but he had served Jeanie and Hayes well previous to now. Her goal was to ride up to the waillord while it was unaware of her and begin firing the eloctrocutes at the pokemon. Hopefully it would be so surprised and scared it will just leave, rather than do anything scary like attack back. She knew it was stupid, and a terrible plan, but being around Jeanie always scrambled her mind. Besides, she had to prove to Arty that she was a better savior than the pirate. |
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Erasmus' Timeline Hayes' Timeline Shorts Man Erasmus![]() | |
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