the skitty is mine, betch! [open]

[Cassie]

[/i]

Dahlia wasn't used to these sort of games, and she found she was not nearly as skilled at shooting jars of a shelf, as she was at swindling the elite trainers out their cash. Cash which they didn't even work that hard for, they fought like, what, one kid out of every couple of hundred? It was hardly a stressful job. She was annoyed with herself, she would have taken this games to pieces when she was younger. Now she'd spent less time throwing and shooting and partaking in the general fun of a funfair, and she'd lost her skills. No, not lost. Just, dulled them.
She'd practice, get back into the swing and then she'd wipe the floor with them. Yes, she would win, she'd show them that Dahlia the Roulette Goddess did not lose! But... But she wanted that Skitty. And she wanted it now.

She gave a sigh of frustration as she stared at the plushie, it's eyes gleaming at her. It looked so soft, and so... Skitty like. She had to have it. Even if she had seduce the rather odd looking stall keeper in order to get it.

"It's over love. Move on, yeah?"

The man spoke, and Dahlia began to turn towards him, only to be distracted by a flash of pink at the corner of her vision. She glanced towards the blonde, who'd been chatting up the decidedly better looking stall keeper a few feet away. Domino flicked her eyes between Dahlia, the Skitty and the gun before she sighed with a note of "What Am I Going To Do With You, You Silly Poker Addict Whore". In the most affectionate terms of course.

"For goodness sake, give me that goddamn gun."

Dahlia did as she said without a flicker of hesitation. Domino picked up the pellet rifle, and eyed it for a moment. Then she took her aim and fired shot after shot. Both Dahlia and stall-keeps jaws dropped as they watched the flawless display; all the jars lay in shards on the floor despite the fact there had been thirteen and she'd only had ten shots. Domino lowered the gun, and turned towards the dumbstruck pair.

"Right. Now hand over the stupid Skitty."

She said, and Dahlia grinned.

--

"Have I ever told you how much I love you, and your amazing ability to shoot jars?."
"Not really."
"Well I do!"

Domino rolled her eyes, but there was a smile on her lips. Dahlia was still grinning, the Skitty held against her chest in a one armed embrace. It seemed ridiculous how much Dahlia had wanted the skitty, but she knew Dahlia was a very random woman. Domino had refused the 'bonus' prize, which appeared to be a crude and to be quite frank ugly Grouden plushie which looked like it had once been used as a snagle-toothed battering ram. She wasn't dragging that around thank you very much, it would totally clash with her top. Not that the skitty wasn't clashing with Dahlia's gold blouse, or at least it should in theory. Somehow, Dahlia seemed to be rocking the look, despite the clashing colours and the fact she was a woman in her early twenties carrying a stuffed toy.

Well it was Dahlia afterall.

"Have you seen Volky yet?."
"Nope, we we meant to be meeting up with him?"

Dahlia asked, raising a brow as she turned towards the blonde. Domino brushed a speck of lint from her dark pink halter-neck and shrugged her exposed shoulders.

"No, but I don't trust him not to try and fix the funfair rides, or mess with the lights. So we should keep an eye out."
"Oh, right. Angry carnies are not fun."

Dahlia agreed, glancing around as if she expected to see the blonde in question. Instead she saw something quite different, and her eyes widened before she turned back to Domino.

"Tell me sugarplum, how good at you at throwing balls at coconuts?"

She said with a smirk, a gleam in her eye. Domino wasn't looking at her, and wasn't paying that much attention.

"Umm, pretty good I guess? Why, what's got to do with -WOAH!."

Dahlia laughed as she seized her companions arm and literally dragged her towards the coconut shy, where a Magby plushie was calling to her!
[/ul]

[breloom]

What on Earth was he doing here?

Thorton Nejiki was not the type of teenage boy who would be found near a fairground. In fact, he could care less what happened in these ridiculously overcrowded theme-park wannabes. No. Thorton Nejiki was the type of teenage boy who would be found cooped up in a room above his Battle Factory, building machines and occasionally stationing himself in a window and firing them at innocent pedestrians walking around on the street below if he felt particularly bored. This wasn't often. Overall, Thorton Nejiki was a guy who wouldn't be caught dead here at a carnival.

And yet he was here, alive.

In his attempts to run all around the Region killing time so that he could just get out of Sinnoh for a while, Thorton had come to Kanto and found only Frontier Brains. Some escape from the Frontier,

[/i]he thought bitterly for about the fiftieth time this thought had crossed his mind.

Thorton was skulking around the Games District of the Vermillion City Whatever Festival for lack of anything better to do. It wasn't night yet, and he couldn't go find a place to crash just yet - it was too early. So here he was, haunting some stupid carnival just to get lost in it for a few hours. He didn't plan on actually playing anything, of course, only walking around and laughing at people's feeble attempts to win stuff at probably-rigged game stands.

The sound of glass breaking rang to his ears, and he stopped to listen for a moment. Looks like we have a marksman on our hands, he thought with a smile. Nice to know SOMEONE is able to win anything in this place.

He considered turning around to find the origin of whoever fired that round, but then figured that it probably wasn't his business anyway and would probably end up to be a juvenile delinquent who got in some target practice before he was wheeled back to the center again. Smirking at the thought, Thorton's attention drifted to a coconut shy. Right up there, front and center, stood an enormous plush Magby staring out at the grounds.

Thorton raised an eyebrow.

Dahlia would probably like that, he thought to himself. Maybe I should get it and drop it on her stage when I get ba-Then, the dark depths of his mind presented one problematic factor. He knew for a fact that the crazy Roulette Goddess was here in Kanto - he had run into her a few days back (with catastrophic results).

If she wanted a Magby plush, she could win it herself (or convince a poor male soul to do it for her).

He was about to move on once more when the pounding of feet reached his ears. He stopped to listen for a second, in an attempt to figure out who would be scrambling around so violently. He turned to his immediate left, and his jaw nearly dropped.

Dahlia playing rough with men was one thing... but dragging some woman along behind her with that 'MUST HAS THING' glint in her eyes was a completely different matter!

Before he had time to run out of the way (and hopefully keep his hair in proper gravity-defying order), Dahlia was steadily trooping closer to him, with the blondie tagalong being literally dragged in her wake by the Brain of the Battle Roulette.[/blockquote]

[Cassie]

[/i].

That was what she loved about spending time with the sinnoh frontier brain, the woman knew how to make people enjoy themselves. She sensed tension and stress and banished it, in this case by dragging Domino to the carnival. Yet, despite the blonde's protests, she was enjoying herself, and had no trouble shooting jars and the like to earn Dahlia a few stuffed Pokemon. Besides, Volky would get all sulky if he found out Dahlia had been seducing the carnie folk for plushies, and she was not having the blonde moping in the front room when she was in the house. It was not going to happen.

Dahlia giggled with delight as she hauled the unprotesting Domino forward, and was pleased to hear the other girl giggle. She didn't like have to take hostages, but Arceus knew she would take hostages. She was having that Magby plushie, damnit! It had an afro like Flint's, and that made it a must have as far as the Roulette Goddess was concerned. The plushie was her goal, nay it was her destiny and nothing could come between them. Not even- Thorty?!.

Dahlia froze, her eyes widening and her grip on Domino's arm tightening as she stared at the boy before her in shock. There was no mistaking that figure, the hair was enough of a giveaway but the fearful glint in his eyes as he caught her gaze sealed the deal. Domino glanced from the hand clenched on her arm to the boy Dahlia was staring at, trying to find a link when she was suddenly informed. Very loudly.

"THORTY!"

She exclaimed in delight, making Domino wince ever so slightly. The Spanish woman beamed at the boy before her, and then she bounded towards him, opening her arms to catch him in a hug. The Skitty tumbled towards the ground, but Domino lunged forward and caught it by the tail, before it could come into contact with the dirt. Dirty Skitty's are not pretty. A co-ordinator sing-song rhyme echoed through her mind, before she banished it and returned her attention towards the scene unfolding, resigned to holding the precious Skitty plushie for the moment.

Dahlia had, indeed there was no other word for it, glomped 'Thorty', her arms wrapped tightly around him as she crushed him to her frame. It seemed more affectionate than pedo, though the height difference meant Thorty's eye level was at an... Interesting place. Domino doubted Dahlia had much concern about this, if she was even aware. The Goddess had been eating candyfloss, who knew what horror could unfold.

"Omigosh Thorty, you actually came to the carnival! You didn't stay inside! Congrats, Nerd!"

Domino laughed as she heard the words, and Dahlia hugged Thorty a little bit tighter. If that was even possible... [/ul]

ooc: I hope I didn't god-mode? if I did, I can edit! <3

[moddy!]

[/i]. How one could go about having fun here, he was not sure and he was sure that he didn't want to know. It wouldn't be pretty in his opinion, he would bet. N-not that this man was interested in pretty things because pretty things were pretty womanly unlike him because he wasn't a woman. He definitely didn't look like a woman, anyways. N-no... he was definitely manly..

And anyone who disagreed with that statement would be fined and sent away immediately. It was that simple.

The way he thought this.. he seemed to be over-confident. Something that a lot of his.. 'fans' didn't notice about him. People who got to know him more would probably agree, though. This man was definitely cocky. No one could beat him, of course, and he knew that. He acted as if it was true.

B-but... it is true![/color][/i] He always told himself that. It had to be true, apparently. Had to. And why wouldn't it? Who was there to say he wasn't the strongest trainer in Sinnoh..? ...then again, he wasn't in Sinnoh. He was in Kanto now. He had no clue who was the supposed 'strongest' trainer here. Maybe if he had payed more attention in school, he would know. But he hadn't, so...

Whatever. He wouldn't linger on these thoughts anymore. They were slow thoughts. Stupid, stupid, stupid slow thoughts. They weren't worth his time. He didn't see how they were worth anyone's time. But.. that didn't matter if he saw how they were that way or not. Who cared? He was just some random fast guy, anyways. The people here weren't familiar with him.

He sneered at the thought. He was used to people loving him for the way he was, for the way he battled. Fans.. He had none here. Walking through this crowd with no one following.. No one yelling after him.. He was unused to it. For some reason, it made him feel down. Unloved, maybe?

Pfft.. No! He would never feel 'unloved', whatever that word was supposed to mean. Bored, perhaps. Yeah... When he was bored, he would feel down, apparently. He didn't understand why. Maybe it was just a... quirk or something. He didn't know, either way.

Anyways, back to his earlier thoughts. There were no races here, were there? He was hoping there would've been at least... ten. Yeah, ten, not one. One was a boring, slow number. Whoever liked the number one was obviously slow, as we-

"Eh.. Eh?!" Yeah, that were his oh-so-infamous-and-intelligent words of shock. It figures that they would be here.. "_{T-two slow people in the same place..? B-but.. that, like, defies all laws of physics and laws of gravity and laws of.. laws. Shit. T-this place really is slow! I-I knew it! Why'd I come anyways, though..? I.. I don't remember! W-why don't I remember?! Th-this is so slow of m-}"

He didn't even dare finish that sentence. He didn't realize til now that those guys could've heard him saying that and for him to even come near to saying the words 'slow' and 'me' in the same sentence made him shudder. Unless, of course, he was saying something like 'Haha you're so slow you'll never be as fast as me p'shaw!'

Either way, in his sight, were two of his co-workers and... and this other chick who he had no idea about whatsoever. One of Dahlia's 'girlfriends'..? Was that what girls called friends nowadays? In that case, wouldn't you call a guy's friends 'boyfriends'..? Man, that was messed up logic. Anyways, this wasn't the time for stupid thoughts like that.

"I didn't expect there to be a slowfest today. I thought it was just supposed to be a carnival, but, seeing who's attended, I guess not," he said this while wearing his best 'I'm not amused k' face. Because he wasn't amused. At all.

No, he would never admit that he was slow in front of any of them.
[/ul]

I TOLD YOU CASSIE. AAAANGST...! _{or at least as close as it'll get to that with palmer...} B-BUT YEAH GUYS SORRY THAT WAS CRAP AS WELL I'M ASHAMED. ;;

[breloom]

"THORTY!"

There they were, right on cue. She had even used Annoying Nickname Numero One. The one word that signaled the death of two things: one, Thorton (practically), and two, his hairdo.

The familiar whoosh of flying Dahlia did not help the situation. A few seconds later, right on schedule, came the flying Brain, arms spread wide in an Ursadahlia hug of epic (and VERY embarrassing) proportions. Then came the rattling of bones and practically the entire supply of air stored in the wiry boy's lungs being forced out of it very, very fast. "Dah-" he managed to splutter in a brief moment of lung freedom before the woman had once again clamped him in her crazy-strong grip.

Thorton gritted his teeth and waited for it to end, head beginning to swim from lack of sufficient airflow.

"Omigosh Thorty, you actually came to the carnival! You didn't stay inside!"

Yes, Dahlia, thank you for noticing, he thought grimly. Unfortunately, I'm kind of in the wrong Region for lurking around indoors, so if you could let go of me and allow me to explain why exactly I'm here that wo-

"Congrats, Nerd!"

His train of thought crashed promptly.

'Nerd'.

There was the word again. Annoying nickname Numero Fifty-Six (right after 'Birdy'), and arguably the worst of them all.

It did not sound like a terribly painful nickname to have, especially from someone as hyper and cheerful and generally jokey as Dahlia. However, Dahlia was hardly the only person who liked to refer to Thorton as a nerd - practically everyone who wasn't there to challenge him referred to him as 'nerd', 'dork', or some variation thereof. And it wasn't just in the Frontier either; almost every time he had managed to get in touch with Julia (his older sister), she had given him that name too.

And, as Dahlia really should know by now, he really hated the name.

In his dizziness and then reflective anger, Thorton failed to realize the man in the unmistakably green coat staring at them. Honestly, right now he really didn't give a Ratatta's tail what Palmer wanted here. All he wanted was to get out of Dahlia's grip and, once that was accomplished, attempt once more to get her to stop using the name 'nerd' on him. It would, probably and as usual, be done in vain.

He attempted to struggle out of Dahlia's vice-like grip, punching and kicking and probably making a very large scene in an attempt to escape her 'dark clutches'. In all honesty, he didn't care in the least that he was being huggle-glomp-assaulted by Dahlia right now. He could do that when his brain had enough oxygen (that didn't smell like Dahlia's revolting perfume) to function correctly.

OutOfCtrl;
Would have gone longer, but I needed some Dahlia input first.

[/i][/blockquote]

[Cassie]

[/i]. However as she turned and parted her lips to issue these instructions, she was forced to do a double take. He looked like Damion!. She stared for a moment, blinking violet eyes as she tired to take in the image of an adult Damion. Then Domino recovered from the shock, and remembered the words he had uttered. She narrowed her eyes, and returned his 'not amused expression' with one that said "Yes I Am Small, But I Will Kick Your Ass Mr Tall Blonde Man Who Looks Like Small, Blonde and Speedy."

"Okay, who the hell are you and why are you talking to me?"

Domino snapped, folding her arms across her chest. She was aware the stuffed Skitty hindered her bad-ass image but she was pretty sure she could make it work. Through sheer force of will alone.

Dahlia was busy squeezing Thorty in a tight hug, refusing to entertain the notion that he wasn't enjoying it. Who didn't love a snuggle? Well, apart from Palmer but that was besides the point. Most of the time he didn't deserve one anyway, he was too busy being stupid and shouting about being slow. She could hear his voice in her head, rambling on about slow-fests. A frown creased her brow as she realized that voice wasn't in her head; but that was ridiculous. If it wasn't in her head, then that would mean -

"Ouch! Hey, hey! Chillout Thorton, jeesh!"

She released the boy as he began to throw kicks and punches at her, which to be fair was totally uncalled for. All she'd done was hug him, which was hardly a crime. If he didn't like it, he should have said something. Dahlia ignored the fact he couldn't have said anything due to his face being smushed against her body, and decided that Thorty was being unreasonable. She sighed heavily, and stepped backwards, holding her hands up as if she was surrendering. Which in a way, she kinda was. Dahlia looked down at the boy for a moment, debating saying more but then shrugged her shoulders and turned back towards Domino. And Palmer.

Where the hell had he come from?

Dahlia blinked in surprise as she took in the familiar form of the man standing before her, and then her eyes narrowed a fraction. There was something off. She took in his expression with some concern. It wasn't right somehow, this wasn't the usual Palmer she knew, loved, and most of the time want to kill. She knew him well enough to know something was wrong, but she couldn't say exactly what that something was. Dahlia was uncharacteristically silent as she stared at Palmer, her vivid eyes taking in all the details of his appearance as she tried to figure out what was going on in his head to make him look so... She didn't know the word to describe it. He seemed troubled? No, that wasn't enough. Dahlia nibbled on her lip for a moment, and then she shook her mind free of the thoughts and let a smile slid onto her face hoping to hide her earlier hesitation.

"Palmer!

She chirped, skipping forward towards the man. In one swift movement, she pulled the stuffed Skitty from Domino's grasp and thrust it up towards the blonde man's face.

"Isn't he adorable? Domino won him for me. She's going to win the Magby for me too."

She said happily, beaming up at her boss with the Skitty inches away from giving him a plushie kiss. Domino arched an eyebrow.

"...I am?"

She murmured, but her heart wasn't really in the protests. She flicked her glance back to the boy in green, wondering after his welfare after enduring a classic Dahlia glomp tackle.

"You okay over there, hun?"

She asked, turning to face him now that Dahlia was occupied with chatting to Mr. Tall Blonde Man who was apparently called Palmer. Her purple eyes lingered on the interesting hairstyle, and she absently reached up to touch one of her bouncy curls. Yes, her hair was so much better.
[/ul]

[moddy!]

[/color]" he said, mimicking the nickname that Dahlia had used for him. What, he didn't get a nickname from her, besides 'Dickhead' and some other Spanish words that he didn't understand? Unfair. "Upon seeing you do that, I was almost convinced that my own son was better behaving. Almos-"

"Okay, who the hell are you and why are you talking to me?"

He was cut off. How rude. Not that he hadn't cut someone off before, but, still. He was Palmer, so he was allowed to do that automatically. Enough said.

Whatever. He was gonna cut himself off, anyways. Yeah, because a certain "babysitter(yeah, quotes. can a real babysitter be as sexy as dahlia? xD)" knew his son all too well and he really didn't want her to disagree with him. Nor would he want her to agree with him. So, yeah.

"...do you not know who I am?" This was a stupid question, since she had, after all, just asked him who he was. Well, he was required to ask stupid questions. If he didn't, who would? "Dahlia, I'm shocked. Why haven't you told this uninformed girl who I am? I would think that you would have, being you and all." He didn't bother answering the second question. He didn't think he needed to.

The hesitation was a bit awkward. If anything, he would have expected Dahlia to yell at him or something immediately. Well, he was wrong, apparently and that definitely would not do. Palmer hated being wrong and he expected that she should have known that by now. He was about to say something about it, but a stuffed plush was shoved in his face.

He shook his head and said, "No. It's not 'adorable'. Skittys are slow. 'Slow' isn't adorable." He frowned then, realizing what he had just said. "B-besides, men don't use the word 'adorable'. Only 'hot' or 'sexy' or 'fast' or something, b-but there's nothing here to say that about!" He nodded, a very serious expression on his face.

"And o-oh? Magbys are a bit.. slow. I don't like them," he said simply, which was surprising; since when was anything simple with him? He'd confused himself already. Man, this was a whole new record. Where were the press when you needed them most?

Upon hearing the blonde girl speak to Thorton, he snorted. "Of course he's alright, unless he's a slow, sissy. Huh, slowpoke?" He said, placing a hand on the Skitty plush's face and pushing it away. Palmer certainly didn't need that thing in his face any longer. It was annoying, like certain people here.
[/ul]

[breloom]

Thorton suddenly and inconveniently became aware that Palmer was in the area.

Knowing the man (who had recently developed a deep loathing towards him, which he returned after a while) would definitely be looking for any chance to poke fun at him mercilessly, Thorton ignored the new arrival and instead focused on the more important task at hand: filling his lungs.

"Ouch! Hey, hey! Chillout Thorton, jeesh!"

You 'chill out' first, Ursaring woman, Thorton thought bitterly as he stared at the dirt, grass, and black wires that took up equal parts of the earth below him.

As he panted and gasped for air, slumped on the ground, he slowly rubbed his right fist. This was, obviously, the fist he had used to deliver a not-too-pleasant punch to her left arm, which was enough to startle her and send Thorton flying out of the Ursaring-woman's grasp. He thumped to the ground, body seriously hurting him. However, the pain could be ignored for when he wasn't recovering from standard Dahlia procedure.

"Thank you," he breathed to Dahlia once he could bear to do so... for releasing him, of course. Thanking her for near-suffocating him would be like swaying dangerously close to the edge of a cliff in the middle of a tornado.

Which he had done even though Cy had reminded him three times that it was really stupid, by the way.

OutOfCtrl;
>D

"You okay over there, hun?"

So Dahlia's tagalong had spoken.

Thorton waited a few moments to regain his breath, then nodded and got up. "Ah, yes, I'm fine. A little winded, but fine. I'm used to Dahlia treating me like that, to be honest..." he sighed exasperatedly at the thought of Dahlia using him as her own personal hugging bag for so long that he could actually get used to the inevitable lack of air that was sure to follow. "Sad as it is, I'm starting to get used to it - she does it every time she sees me."

Palmer had said something, as well. Predicting it was probably to make fun of him in some way or another, Thorton frowned and ignored him. Despite this, he still heard the last part: "...huh, slowpoke?" Frowning, he shot an evil glare at Palmer before turning back to Dahlia's newest rag doll.

OutOfCtrl;
Short post is short?

[Cassie]

[/i] Damion's dad![/color]

She exclaimed, eying him from head to toe in a none too subtle movement. The blonde tapped a finger lightly against the side of her cheek as she eyed the man. She'd expected somebody... Bigger? He didn't seem all that daunting to be honest, especially not with the plushie stuffed in his face. She'd expected him to be intimidating, but her impression was simply of an irritable man who may or may not be disturbed in the head. Domino looked at him for a few seconds longer and then he lost her interest. She shrugged her shoulders and turned away once more.

Dahlia shrugged her shoulders at his question.

"Nope, sorry babes. I mean, I didn't think I needed to seeing how you live in Sinnoh.... Speaking of which, why aren't you in Sinnoh? I mean, no offense it's great to see you alive and well and not maimed to death by Cynthia but I wasn't expecting you in Kanto."

Dahlia grinned at him though, flashing the pearly whites. She didn't even hear Thorty's gasped attempts at gratitude for being able to breathe, but Domino did. The blonde flashed a grin at him, oddly amused by the situation.

However, at Palmer's next words Dahlia looked anything but amused. Her eyes narrowed, and in one violent movement she'd decked the man over the head with the plushie. Which probably didn't even hurt that much, but it was the thought that counted. Odd, the cliché was rarely used in terms of violence, but it seems Dahlia had managed to once more achieve the highly unlikely.

"HEY!"

She cried, alerting a few glances from those nearby but she ignored them an continued to glare at Palmer.

"I'll have you know that I am very sexy, hot and fast enough to take you down thank you very much!!"

She punctuated each adjective with another biff from the Skitty, but as she spoke it became apparent that her anger was not real. Infact as she finished her words with another blow she let out a giggle. Domino rolled her eyes at the display, listening instead to the boys words.

"Yeah, Dahlia doesn't seem to realise that breathing is important to some people... Bless her. Maybe you should learn some aversion techniques? I could throw some stuff at you if you'd like? Help you practise?"

Domino arched a brow as she finished her offer, glancing towards the neatly stacked balls on the stall nearby. Dodging skills were very important when around Dahlia, this Domino was learning very quickly. She glanced back at the woman, but found her still distracted by Palmer which was good. Distracted Dahlia's weren't choking the air out of teenagers.

Dahlia pouted as Palmer dismissed the idea of the Magby and pushed the Skitty away, but it was hard to tell if she was sincere or just messing around. Most likely the latter.

"There's nothing wrong with Magby's!"

She insisted, tucking the Skitty back under her arm as she looked up at the male, her lower lip no longer jutting out, all displays of sadness gone from her face. There was just the usual gleam in her eyes, and the happy grin that usually graced her features.

"So there!."

She poked Palmer in the ribs without malice, poking her tongue out briefly to emphasis the point before giggling again. [/ul]

[moddy!]

[/i]. Fact was, though, that Palmer didn't care if Thorton glared at him, either way. He didn't care for him as a person, really(SEE SO NO PEDO PALMER c:). So, instead, he returned the glare before looking back at Dahlia and her friend.

"So you're Damion's dad!"

Instead of being sarcastic like he usually would if he heard someone say that, he frowned. "N-no! I-I mean, y-yeah, b-but I'm not usually addressed by that in public..." he trailed off. Man, how did this girl not know who he was, even if she didn't live in Sinnoh? "C-come on! You have to know me! T-the owner of the Battle Tower in Sinnoh? Yeah, that's me! Come oooon. Don't be slow. _{I-I mean, I know you're hanging around Dahlia and stuff so she might've rubbed off on you, b-but that's besides the point...}"

As soon as he heard Dahlia's words, a scowl found it's way across his face. "C-Cynthia can't 'maim' me! S-she's too slow! You should know that!" He protested. "B-but I came from Sinnoh thinking that I could get away from you guys and stupid, slow r-responsibilities and stuff.." That was true. He didn't really like anyone depending on him.

And, okay, even though he should've been fast enough to see that plushie coming at him, he didn't, so he ended up saying something pretty intellegent like "Oof!" or something when it made contact with him. Well, that was surprising. No, it didn't hurt much, but.. how dare she.

"W-well I don't think you're very sexy or hot or fast! Bosses aren't supposed to say those kind of things about their employees. B-besides you of all people should know that I'm married and that I have a kid. Seriously, I can't just go around checking out twenty-year-old women and stuff.." he could've rambled on and on about it, but he decided that would be slow. Besides, she hit him again.

"I think they're slow, though! They're all slow! B-because plushes don't even move!" He pointed out. "_{W-wait, what am I saying...? F-fast people don't talk about plushies..}[/sub]" he mumbled, more to himself than anyth-

"H-hey!" He said, squirming a little at the touch. "D-don't do that!" T-they were in public.. Who did she think she was? Obviously someone special. B-but she wasn't, in his opinion. No way.

Instead, he reached forward and pulled the plushie out from under her arm. "I-I'm taking this! A-and I'm not giving it back until I say you can have it back!" He decided, holding it up in case she tried to get it back. He was a tall man. Tall enough that he could keep the plush out of Dahlia's grip.

And, yeahh.. he'd technically just grounded his co-worker.
[/ul]

[breloom]

"Yeah, Dahlia doesn't seem to realize that breathing is important to some people... Bless her."

Thorton blinked. He had never seen Dahlia's tagalong before; he didn't remember seeing her when he had met up with the woman in front of the Game Corner. Bless Dahlia? he thought. I'd rather not. He continued to use this mindset until the woman continued with her offer. "Maybe you should learn some evasion techniques? I could throw some stuff at you if you like? Help you practice?"

This did not sound like a very good idea to Thorton, and he tried to formulate a way to get out of it as easily as possible. "Ah... no, that's alright. I don't plan on seeing her again. Hopefully. Tossing things at me doesn't really seem necessary. I appreciate the offer, tho-"

As Thorton shook his head to accompany this cut-off and very badly-done reply, the action included with it seemed to trigger something related indirectly to some variety of higher power that so happened to be asleep at the time, and ticked them off enough that something else happened to the triggerer that was totally unforeseen and uncalled for.

In short, Thorton's hair flopped.

Possibly from all of the shaking ad abuse it had endured during the day, Thorty’s hair just decided to stop being held together just to laugh in the underaged Brain's face.

So black strands of hair now framed the sixteen-year-old’s bemused face, dangling and effectively making him look like a girl. Thorton, needless to say, wasn’t pleased by this, but unlike SOME people who reacted strangely when things went wrong (that means you, Palmer), he just sighed and looked up at Dahlia’s tagalong.

“Excuse me,” he said calmly.

With that, he leaned against a nearby telephone pole and began to push his hair behind his ears. He couldn’t exactly fix it, as the gravity-defying proportions were virtually impossible to retain without proper supplies (which he did not feel like dealing with right now, in front of a bunch of thirty-somethings who just so happened to be his coworkers).

So Palmer yelled at things, and after Thorton had finished keeping his hair somewhere back behind his ears, he turned to the man to watch the spectacle. Palmer yelled at Dahlia, Dahlia attacked Palmer with a plushie, Palmer confiscated Dahlia’s plushie, and it was only a matter of time before she did something horrible to the not-poor man…

...Right?

[Cassie]

[/color]

She said at length, popping the 'p' as she shrugged her shoulders in a dismissive way.

"Then again... I don't actually battle. I don't even own Pokemon."

She said after a moment, more to soothe his ego. If he was anything like Dae, wounding the 'manly pride' would result in tantrums, loud, annoying denials, possible foot stamping and most likely... A fine. So it was easier to bandage any potential wounds, instead of squeezing lemon juice into a paper cut. However, it didn't hold her attention for long and Domino instead turned her attention towards her nails, scanning for imperfections.

Dahlia on the other hand, focused on what Palmer was saying, impressed by the points he was making because for once they actually made sense. And were logical. Even reasonable. Though she had to wonder how many times somebody hit him on the head to finally 'knock some sense in'. She was betting high. However, she was impressed enough to consider complementing him on this newfound skill of common sense, when he decided now would be a good time to be mean again.

In one annoyingly fast movement (she would never acknowledge this fact, but the man was quick with his reflexes), he'd snatched the Skitty from her grip. Dahlia blinked in surprise as she tried to process this information, a part of her refusing to accept this had just happened. He did not... He hadn't just taken her stuffed skitty. H-He wouldn't do that. Would he? She blinked once more, watching his mouth form words before looking up at the Skitty he'd so cruelly out of her reach. Height was an obstacle, that was for sure.

"But... But...."

She whimpered, glancing back at Domino for a moment before returning her helpless gaze to Palmer. She looked suddenly very young, an image of the child she must have been. Then the image was gone, as her gaze suddenly narrowed, all traces of youthful innocence gone. Vivid eyes locked onto Palmer's gaze with such a fierce intensity, it was a wonder Palmer didn't turn to stone.

"Oh Palmer, sweetie... You're so going to pay for this babes."

Despite the affectionate pet names scattered into the sentence, her tones did not match them. Soft and dangerous, the way she shaped the words suggested that Dahlia intended to kill, maim and otherwise commiting bodily harm upon the man, Boss or not. Her eyes did not leave his face as she reached into her back pocket and withdrew her weapon of choice. Her phone.

"Now. I'm going to give you a choice Palmer. You can give me back the Skitty right now, or...

As the soft words left her lips, she'd been deftly hitting the buttons and she glanced towards the cell phone briefly before looking back at the man with an unmistakable gleam of victory in her gaze.

"Your wife will get involved."

She dropped the threat on him with some degree of satisfaction. She held the phone up for him to see. The name SARAH was visible on the screen, and Dahlia's thumb rested lightly on the call button.

"Well?"

She smirked at Palmer, her eyes glittering. The Skitty was hers, end of.


OTC: eck, so bad. DX [/ul]

[moddy!]

[/i] for not mentioning him. When it came to Dahlia, he seemed to be only second-best or something. Which was stupid. He was not second-best. No, he was.. first-best. Yeah. If that's a word, anyway... Either way, it didn't matter. He'd used it, so it had to be something fast and good, aka a word. Yeah. Man, maybe he could make his own dictionary some day. Except, it would probably be more like this:

"Dahlia's Friend:
A very slow, uninformed woman.

Dahlia:
Even slower, but scary, too."

...actually, nah. That'd be way too slow for him.

"You should get a pokemon one day. Or else I'll fine you... one million."

Sure, the price was a little unreasonable, but who was to say that Palmer was a reasonable guy? No one, of course, because he isn't one, nor will he ever be one. No, being 'reasonable' - whatever that was supposed to mean - was slow, despite the good things people said about it. Wasn't that just like being a push-over? Right? Or something. Or maybe it was the opposite of being a push-over? ..whatever. Either way, this man had obviously not learned the differences between synonyms and antonyms. But, pffft. Who needed to know that stuff? Not him, duh.

"Don't be a baby, Dahlia. You're almost as bad as-"

He didn't bother finishing the sentence. The short moment of weakness was over quickly soon. Now Dahlia was scary again. And.. she was threatening him. Actually, maybe the italicized word in that sentence should've been 'him', instead. Because, seriously. Who did she think she was if she was threatening him? As said before, obviously someone special. But she wasn't. Sure, she might've been to regular people. Like, ones who looked up to sexy, whore-ish women as role models - which was very stupid in his oppinion. Honestly, he was so much better than her. Right?

No. No. Nonononononononono.

She had not just tried to drag his wife into this situation. But, she had. Come ooon. Why did everyone do that? I-it's not like he was afraid of her, but.. She nagggggggged him. Yes, all the extra Gs were necessary. It'd probably start out like this: "heeeeeeey why are you avoiding me. All you need to do is call(lol that kind of reminding Moddy of a song cx). Oooooh by the way how is my little baby(who Palmer has no clue about at the moment) doing~? A-and why is dahlia calling me? Are you being ba-" Then he'd hang up. Unless, that is, Dahlia decided to talk to her. In that case, he probably didn't have much of a chance, unfortunately. Which sucked.

But, no.. He had to put on a brave face. He couldn't let her win. No, if he did, then Dahlia would probably think that he was a push-over, which leads him back to the whole 'unreasonable guy' thing. Thus, he decided that he wouldn't give her the plushie back. Ever. Or, at least, until he decided to. When that would be, though, he wasn't sure. He thought fast, so the time might go by fast, too and.. and.. so, maybe he would have to think slow? Maybe that would be the only way to keep the plushie away for a long time, if that made any sense at all? Well, either way, it wasn't happening. Hell NO. Neverrrrrrrr. Everrrrr. And that's period.

"G-go ahead and call her! I don't care! Wh-what's she gonna do, anyways?! Bitch at me over the phone?! ...I'm used to that."
[/ul]

[Fidge]

[/color]
"Dammit, I don't want a fucking prize."
"But mister, you won it fair and square!"
"The hell. That's all there is to this game?"
".. Well, yeah."
"What a sissy game! I don't want no girly prize from this motherfuc--"
"Here you go!"
Robert's broad, blond eyebrows pulled together, wrinkling his forehead that was dampened with a light amount of sweat. Within the black, leathery glove of his right hand, he grasped a Jigglypuff plushie that had been shoved much generously into his muscular arms.
"..Shit."
His other arm was curved, making a bowl shape to fit an assortment of other plushies from other games he had won.
Proud, he was, for his success in winning so many prizes -- but he only wished the awards for his victories would of been something awesome -- or atleast not so feminine.
He carried with him cute plushies of different Pokemon: A Pichu, Elekid, Luvdisc, Horsea, Ponyta, and now.. a Jigglypuff.
He hated Jigglypuff.
I mean, if there was one Pokemon that was the cutest and most girly, it would be Jigglypuff.
He figured he'd just take these plushies him and have target practice with them -- for he had nothing else better to do with them. Lt. Surge was ashamed of them, actually. It wasn't every day you saw a tall man, who reached a height of 6'7" with a muscular build carry around such things.
But alas, his male pride prevented him from giving them away for little kids.
He hated kids.
They would beg and plea, and it only caused the military man to storm off in disgust. There was no way -- no how -- he would show such charity to some snotty nosed brats.
Robert tried all he could to stop the people behind the booth desks to giving him an award for totally bossing a game -- merely wanting to partake in the game for the heck of it -- for the thrill of it -- the challenge of it.
He craved adrenaline.
But this game -- it had none of that.
A row of little plastic Psyducks passed by in an oval in the water before him. Surge was told to pick up one, and, he thought more direction would follow.
No. That was it. Turn the Psyduck over, and claim the prize it had plastered on its butt.
Once again, as previously stated, Surge tried what he could to tell the kiosk managers not to give him something, but they would always force it upon him for one reason or another.
It was like their duty or something.
Cold, harsh eyes, the color of the ocean, peered behind a pair of orange tinted aviators that perched snuggly upon his signature, pointed schnauze. Lt. Surge trudged away from the Psyduck Surprise kiosk towards something that caught his attention.
Shoot some jars with a rifle.
This instantly put a smug grin upon his face, his look of disgruntle fading in the slightest. Perhaps the awards here would be something more masculine -- like a bomb or something.
"Heh," Robert chuckled through his teeth -- some pearly white and some golden.
He pressed all the plushies he had within his arms against his broad chest as he walked along, combat boots stirring the dusty ground below. He dressed himself in nothing extravagant -- just a black wife beater to make the cruel heat tolerable and his military BDU bottoms, held up by a diamond studded belt.
A small group congregated around the area near the booth, but he casually ignored them. He breezed past them briskly with large strides in his steps, only stopping to bend over and pick up his Horsea plushie that had rolled out of his grasp while uttering a profanity in his bellowy vocals.
Upon reaching the booth, Lt. Surge dumped all his prizes upon the table carelessly and whistled at the boy behind the booth to provide him with the gun.
The boy started to explain what to do, and was cut off by Surge's obnoxiousness,"I know what to do, shrimp! Now, watch this. Maybe you'll learn something from a true lieutenant."
With that, Surge lifted the pellet rifle to his angular cheek, the tip of his tongue sticking out slightly as he aimed.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
Like Domino, it was a piece of cake for him to excel in such a task.
Lt. Surge looked quite proud -- his head held high and his chest puffed out in his own glory. He eyed the prizes that were behind this booth lustfully. Even though they were still pretty crappy, he saw metro lunchboxes that brought back memories of his youth, along with play pistols and rifles which he had no use for since he had the real deal. Some money, too, was in an envelope that hung on the wall of prizes.
Anything would be better than --
A gigantic Marril plushie was shoved at him.
In amazement, the boy reached over to took the rifle from Surge, only to exchange it with something like this.
"... What the hell? Don't I get the pick my prize?"
"Sorry, sir. You'll have to shoot some more down if you want another prize. We only give out plushies for the first round."
Surge lifted his hand, running it through his spiky, cornflour colored hair, before pounding a fist violently upon the acrylic desk.
"Fine. Hit me up with another round."
[/ul]

[breloom]

Despite Thorton focusing all of his energy on attempts to fix his hair, he couldn’t help but notice the almost mocking grin plastered across the face of Dahlia’s tagalong before she switched targets to… ugh. Palmer was once again somewhere Thorton did not want him to be: within a five-mile radius of himself. He now seemed to be battling against both of them, Dahlia and her new friend, and based off of the experience he had retained from the newcomer, the percent chance that Palmer was going to lose was steadily climbing higher.

Of course, he was not at all pleased with the way she had laughed at him – softly, as if he were some random bag which retained a pocket of air she released while stomping on it. A few seconds later Thorton caught himself – overreaction was not one of the best strategies when presented with this situation (meaning Palmer, who probably still had a multitude of bones to pick with him).

Heeding his own warning, Thorton stretched silently and continued to admire the wrath of Dahlia slowly inflicting itself upon the green-coated Frontier Brain of Sinnoh.

This leisurely task was interrupted by a loud procession of banging, which surprised him so much he jumped slightly when the first ripped through the previously-still air. After the bangs came the clattering of something made of metal, and then the soft but unmistakable sound of something large and plush being shoved into somebody’s hands. A deep voice protested against this with words blurred by the distance, another higher voice treated much the same way, soft grumbling from the deep voice, and then silence.

Shifting his gaze to what he assumed was the source of the noise, Thorton found himself staring at the profile of one of the Kanto Gym Leaders.

Blond hair up in short spikes, a sleeveless black shirt, and some green army pants were not the normal attire to wear to a carnival, of all things; but that was what this guy was wearing, and on the table next to him was a large pile of plushies of various young Pokémon not typically seen being toted around by – judging by the man’s attire and general aura – a member of the army.

Thorton sighed and looked back to Palmer being verbally (and possibly physically) beaten up by the woman in yellow. Knowing all too well Dahlia’s immense strength, he didn’t enjoy sticking around to watch the rest of it. Amazingly enough, this three-way squabble was beginning to bore him. Figuring he might as well do what one was supposed to do at a carnival, Thorton stopped leaning on the lamppost and casually walked over to the rifle-shooting booth in which the keeper and Gym Leader were currently residing.

After handing the older teenager the proper amount of Poké and ignoring politely the rules he rattled off, Thorton took a few seconds to look over the rifle and smirked.

Narrowing his eyes slightly, Thorton’s mouth compressed into a tight, concentrated line. Within a few minutes, the proper amount of projectiles had been fired and (much to his amazement) he actually got something interesting. As the kid manning the booth tossed him a stuffed Poliwhirl, he caught it and smiled. No doubt Poliwrath would enjoy this, even if he didn’t. Nodding, he leaned against the side of the booth (as was his custom when he was finished somewhere but didn’t quite feel like leaving yet) and began to toss his new Poliwhirl plushie calmly from hand to hand.