Caves are not fun~

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Okay, it was okay to sing now, right? It's not like anyone was here. Or that anyone was listening. ...or that anyone was making fun of him.

It's not that he likes singing, he's just in the mood to sing. That's just fine, right? No one can make fun of him for that. PLUS, he never gets to sing. Never ever.

If he were to sing in public, he would most likely be made fun of or yelled at, because, you see, he's not the best singer ever. In fact, he could probably pass for the worse. But, there's an echo in the cave. That makes everything better, right?

"'Nite." The dragon-type pokemon traveling beside the pokemon added in his own poke-sing way. It's not that he liked his trainer's singing, he just thought that if he sang along, it might turn out better. "'Nite. 'Nite."

The singing stopped as soon as the two stopped walking(more like stopped rushing, like most of the song was - rushed). They no longer needed to sing to keep them busy; rumor was that strong pokemon lived in this area. That's why he had brought the Dragonite with him. For protection.

Honestly? Yes, he was scared. Scared that he would get attacked or mauled or... raped or something. You never know what could pop up in a dark area like this. Even something like The Ick or Cynthia could show up(haha, ironic). Scary, right?

He glanced around - quickly, of course - trying to find as much light as he could in a cave. At a moment like this, he sort of wished that one of his pokemon had that move... flash, was it?

"Where to now?" The blond man asked, looking over at his companion. The Dragonite shrugged, which made the trainer sigh.

The 'Master' of the battle tower was lost. Great going, Palmer, great.

>>ooc
god~
shoot me now~
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[pineappleluff]

Cynthia had been exploring the cave for awhile, and so far was not impressed with the so called 'horribly stong' pokemon. Cynthia was constantly on the look for somewhere to train, as gaining decent experience for her dears was quite difficult. So far the few pokemon she'd spotted had either dashed off or self destructed. Honestly! Did they not realize they were in a cave that could collapse on top of them if they went around exploding themselves? Though, she guessed, they wouldn't care since they'd be dead and all.

Currently she was touring a rather deserted path with her Spiritomb. At first she ahd assumed they had been frightended by the ghost pokemon, but when they remainded completely out of sight, as if startled by something else Cynthia went on high alert mode, to be ready for the 'horribly strong' pokemon she supposed was the cause of this. But all she had heard for the longest time was her own soft footsteps as her Spiritomb floating aimlessly beside her. She, the spiritomb that is, was perfectly at home in the dark tunnel, casting an eerie glow as she floated everywhere, exploring and hiding and ghost chattering to herself.

But when the Spiritomb paused in her hovering Cynthia stopped where she stood, looking to her pokemon. Listening Cynthia heard it suddenly, a soft sound distrubing the black silence extending in front of the champion and her pokemon. It sounded like a voice, though she couldn't distinguish if it was someone talking to someone elese, or themselves, or if it was even pokemon or human. Not needing to signal for silence, as her spiritomb was a ghost pokemon and had already stopped muttering to herself. Pressing herself close to the wall Cynthia slunk orward in the dark, her entire outfit blending nicely with the darkness of the cave. Her hair however, was an issue, but one she would have to over look. She would not, under any circumstances, dye her hair black for the sake of stealth. Simply because having black hair with her entirely black outfit would just be...odd.

As the voice became louder Cynthia would pause every once and awhile to listen. It was human she deciphered first. Then she heard the tune, if it was a bit scratchy, was defintely to a song of sorts. Another pause and she distinguished a pokemon joining in the song. How truely bizare. Then as she neared she thought the voice sounded familiar. But who did she know that would go around singing atrociously in caves with their pokemon? It was not a common past time as far as Cynthia was concerned.

Rounding a corner Cynthia swore she could have spotted a head of blonde hair in th dark, but couldn't be sure of it or not. Continuing to slink forward in super stealth Cynthia mode she slowly formed the outline of the person, then his pokemon, as her dark accustomed eyes worked slowly. Who on earth could it be?

Distraction, as always, was Cynthia's downfall. Though usually not as literal as today. For indeed as she had squinted and rushed forward to discover the identity she hadn't been watching her feet, and had tripped over the loose rocks littering the cave floor. With a few choice curse words she tumbled forward. barely catching herself before she would land on her face. Well, her cover was officially blown.

[moddy!]

[/b][/color]" The question was cut off as a louder sound was heard; a sound that was way louder than Palmer could ever be: the sound of a distressed Dragonite.

"'NITE!" The orange dragon-type pokemon.... squealed? Yes, squealed. It was true that the pokemon was easily startled. And once it was startled... well, it got violent.

"No! Quickster, calm down!" Palmer commanded the pokemon, not enjoying himself anymore. Who had ruined his fun? That was the question.

Instead, the pokemon did the opposite and was about to most likely start a rampage. Or something of the sort. It was about to do something very manly. Very, very manly. It had to be something 'manly' or else Palmer would be embarrassed. Very much so.

"Tell me what you want! Okay? Or else," he paused, considering what he could threaten. It had to be something good or else it wouldn't work. "Or else... Or else... or else I'll let this very fierce Dragonite do very fierce things to you. I swear it. Either that, or I'll fine-"

This pokemon now decided to do a very fierce thing. It wailed. And wailing is a very unmanly thing to do. Especially when you're faced with something such as... such as... Palmer squinted, trying to see what they were facing, anyways.

Something such as... a blonde girl in all black? Why... Why did that seem familiar? It was very familiar, as a matter of fact, he just couldn't put his finger on it...

The wailing continued, louder than ever. And now there was stomping and... and God dayum it, this pokemon needed to stop! The blond trainer dug his hand through his bag until it closed around a rounded object. He pulled the pokeball out and rolled his eyes.

"Return, Quickster," he sighed. A red light flashed and the Dragonite disappeared. Well, this was just great. His 'good' time was ruined by this girl and then his own pokemon. Great, great.

"Now.... Who are you?" He questioned. If she could she him right now, she'd be able to tell he was scowling at her. Though, it was dark and she most likely couldn't... could she?
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[pineappleluff]

"I'm so screw-" Cynthia stopped as Spiritomb waved an endoplasmic flagella in front of her mouth for silence. At least Cynthia understood this as her pokemons signal for 'shush up you silly champion you'. Cynthia knew her pokemon too well, maybe she should get other people friends.

Nah.

Instead Cynthia and her Spiritomb pushed silently against the cave wall listening and hoping this man's eyes weren't as adjusted to the dark as themselves. He seemed to be alternating between talking to herself and... someone else?

Cynthia was puzzled for about a second until the pokemon, she'd identified it as a pokemon when it had 'nite'-d. And now it was wailing. Not crying or sobbing but full out toddler worthy wailing. She suppressed a snicker and hid her smile when her Spiritomb glared at her. The nerve! She'd give her a stern lecture when she had gotten herself out of this situation.

When he finally called his flailing Cynthia recognized his voice, and confirmed it with the scowl he turned on her.

"Holy Arceus," she mumbled, standing swiftly and stepping toward him, despite her Spiritomb's furious protests. "Palmer?" she called, though now she could see his face clearly, or as clear as one can see in a barely lit cave. Around her ankles her Spiritomb flitted about, spazzing mildly.

[moddy!]

[/b][/color]"

The way he nodded, it made it look like having a short name was important--- and it was to him, actually. Too bad he was cursed with a not-so-short name. His took forever to say; it even had two syllables. Now that was bad.

As soon as he heard his name, though, his scowl quickly went away. Ah, so another fan girl had stumbled upon him? How else would she be able to recognize his voice so easily? His face, too. And even though he couldn't see her's, he was quite sure that she was a woman. ...right?

"You know my name? Well, then.... Ohohoho..." he mused mostly to himself. She probably still could hear him. He didn't really care, though. If she had heard him, she might not even be able to make sense of his words, since he talked so quickly.

"Well, aren't you the wise one? Quite the expert when it comes to fangirlizing, huh, Screw? I'm fine with that. I don't mind people obsessing over me-" he paused, lowering his voice. He leaned closer to her, so that he could even drop his voice to a whisper. "Though, my wife's the jealous one... so if I were you, I wouldn't hang around her while you choose to be one of my fan girls." Then he stood back up.

Why had he whispered that information was top secret. It was no one's business except maybe his... well, he really didn't have anyone to tell it to. That didn't matter, though, because it most likely would be out soon enough; after all, he had just told Screw here. Maybe she wasn't a gossiper? That wasn't likely.
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[pineappleluff]

"Nonono, my name isn't...ugh, whatever," Cynthia sighed audibly, the palm of her hand making a loud slapping contact with her forehead. The international sign of 'oh-dear-arceus'. Letting her hand slide down her face she stared blatantly at Palmer about liking her name ( Dear Mew, she didn't want to know ) and how she knew his name.

Her palm made contact with her forehead again, agitating the red mark that was now forming. Honestly, he couldn't recognize her voice? Maybe if she was yelling, that's what he usually heard anyways. For the rush he was always in his brain barely seemed to crawl along.

"Palmer, you don't need to tell me about your wife," she paused, turning to her Spiritomb a giving a signal for flash. The pokemon took a split second before the area was brought to light, though Cynthia's eyes were pre-squinched to avoid unneccesary retina pain.

Once the light had stopped turning everything blindingly white she looked sternly at Palmer, "I'm very good friends with her."
Placing her hands on her hips her pokemon simply stared at this undoubtedly odd man, as this was Spiritombs first meeting with Palmer. And what a meeting it was.

"In fact, she's on my speed-dial," Cynthia continued casually, exacting her revenge on Palmer for not recognizing her. Pulling out her cell phone quickly she flipped the sleek black device open, from which a lurcario phone charm dangled.

Humming almost innocently she looked up at Palmer after fiddling with the buttons. "Yep, speed-dial number 3! Want to talk to her?"

[moddy!]

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Palmer didn't tend to use that word often and if something made him use it that many times, then, well... that something must be pretty bad. And it was.

Cynthia had somehow managed to show up at this exact moment. This exact moment... Had she heard all that stuff? The singing, the badly controlled pokemon....? Everything? This was one of the very rare and few moments when Palmer almost noticed how much stupidity he had--- almost.

But, instead, he frowned. "Bitch..." That was all he could manage to say at such a moment. That was all he could manage to think about. ...about how much a bitchy witch Cynthia was and how much she should burn in hell with all the other people who he hated, Dahlia and Mrs. Palmer included. He knew that wasn't going to happen. Not in this lifetime, at least. But he could dream, couldn't he? ...yeah.

And then, just when it seemed like it was impossible, everything just got worse. He glanced at the phone so closely, that if there had been a test on just what that phone looked like, he'd ace it. As quickly as possible, that is. What color was it? Simple. Black. What kind of accessory did it have on it? A dumb Lucario key chain. And who did it belong to? The devil herself.

He knew that he couldn't back down from this.... challenge? If he said no, she'd be able to hold this over him forever. But if he said yes... well, then he'd be the one holding it over her because of her failed attempt to threaten him. So, he quickly decided that he would have to deal with this right here and now.

Palmer reached over and snatched the phone out of her hand, muttered, "Actually, yes," and held the phone up to his ear. After nothing happened, he then realized that he was supposed to push the button in order to call her and he did so. After a few rings, a rather soft voice answered. This, was really odd, considering the fact that the Mrs. Palmer that he knew had a very loud and annoying voice.

"H-hello?" The voice questioned from the other line. She sounded innocent enough, but even when she was acting sweet, it was enough to make him shudder. "S-sorry if you can't hear me, but I'm feeling a little sick today, Cynthi---"

"Oh, hey, Sarah," Palmer said rather rudely into the phone. He had, in fact, just cut her off and he'd have to pay for that later, but this wasn't the time for that. "It's Palmer, not Cynthia."

The voice instantly grew louder at the sound of that name. It wouldn't be surprising if Cynthia could now hear Mrs. Palmer, as well. "Pal... Palmy?!" But, instead of sounding joyful, she sounded.... rather angry and confused. And those, Palmer had learned from experience, weren't good when they were together. " Where have you been?! Why haven't you called?! Listen up, 'cuz I'm sooo gonna mur---"

So much for being sick, he thought glumly. Why did his wife hate him so? He really had no clue, whatsoever. "Shhh! Saraaaaah!" He pleaded.

But, instead, she completely ignored him and continued with her speech. "---der you the next time I see you! I mean, you could've at least kept in touch... I know you don't have a phone or anything, but you could've borrowed one from someone! Like... Like you're doing right now! Why hadn't you considered this before, ya big dummy?!" Yep... the old Mrs. Palmer was definitely back.

"You know what? I just wanted to call and say that you'd better not forget to work on your speed, ya big slow poke! I mean, seriously! Even when I was younger, I could run laps around you!"

"We were the same age! And that's because I let you---" Palmer didn't bother to let her finish her statement. He muttered a quick 'good bye' into the phone and hung up. He glared at Cynthia, who he hadn't said anything to since he had began talking on the phone.

"Now, now... you can expect to be getting a lot of calls from her about me. Are you happy about that? I hope so, because now she's not only my problem, but she's yours, too!" He said this with slight smugness. This didn't happen everyday, now did it?

He then realized that he should've instructed his wife to feed his Rhyperior, since that pokemon of his was currently staying with her. She was probably forgetting to feed it and neglecting it a lot. Either that or she was teaching it methods on how to beat her ungrateful husband up being too lovey-dovey or whatever with it. ....on second thought, he'd much prefer the first option. Oh, well.
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[Dragon]

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