White Dawn
PLAYED BY OOC NAME
PLAYED BY Birb / ALegionofKaw
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Post by Oscar on Mar 20, 2018 7:54:14 GMT
It was safe to presume they were never on good standing to begin with, and he wasn't particularly inclined on making amends right now after he – the Treecko had put that lass through. He didn't quite know who he was bellowing to, and why, he was caught in a bit a smokey haze after getting flames spewed all over him. It must have been aimed after the grass type as the only anger in it was a bit of discontent after prevailing through all this flammable drudgery, yet at the same time with how bluntly and how bellowing he spoke it – anyone could have really taken it as a threat. Especially when the only other mon here aside from the one on his rear and the other one standing was someone who'd been freshly bashed into a tree by some mystical, blinding beam that just about ruined that poor huntress. Yet again he was overwhelmed by his own gall, he thought it necessary to take it out on that treecko over there before he was to decidedly get up and help drag the fool out of there. Because judging by how easily they had gotten steamrolled by a fire-type, that grass fellow wasn't going to last in a place that was polluted head to toe in the ichor of wherever those toxic adversaries may be soiling this entire forest with their foulness. He could probably take one of those fellows for a minute or two, probably even beat them, though in the state they were in none of them were going to stand long enough to exchange more than one blow. He didn't want to leave, but he – the treecko needed to get out of here. Braving this endeavor on his lonesome was an excellent way to dig himself his own grave. So needless to say he didn't want that, he had really no choice but to start on his way out of here. As whether he will wind up having to drag the treecko out of here or not was really only a quick glance away.
As a breath cleared its way through him, leaving in a stream that fogged against his own platemail. It would take a fair moment before he got was needed in him to get off this dirt and onto his feet – or at least sitting upright. He gave a good kick or two as he articulated his talons, getting a feel as if they suffered any woes which aside from a bit of strain after flinging himself like a mad bird, they were relatively fine so to speak. He might have a wee bit of rope burn after sliding over the earth but it probably lacked anything to really do that to him. It was just gunk, slippery gunk but nothing he couldn't imagine would induce a landing more rough than the one he threw himself through. Really the brunt of the damage was entirely focused in his wing, a thing so blisteringly hot it seared with a gleaming red and it's very heat made the flesh below numb and nearly limp. It was like waving around a plank that was somehow strapped to his limb. He still obviously felt it, the ends of that affliction squealed with how much pain it rippled through his network of tendons. It traveled through him; right to his head where it made him sick with it's corporeal screams. He needed to fix this thing, he needed to do so quickly less all those singes made him feel disgusted on top of being a general, scorching nuisance. Whilst there really wasn't anywhere too cool himself down, this place was still no less muddier than any other bog he's ever had the misfortune of trudging through. Because if it weren't mountainous, taiga, cold or what-have you in the lands the skarmory hailed from. Every slightly warmer season brought nothing but bogs and insects for as far as the eyes could see. Granted, they were nothing other than seasonal puddles that managed to bring out a thousand bug-types alongside them. But he somewhat knew what this sort of forest would have, even though it was still quite the foreign place to him.
There were roots everywhere, brush, branches and leaves just about blanketing every corner of the earth. But that didn't matter, he was just one or two good shovels away from safety. Assuming he even needed to for that matter, that he wouldn't immediately burn right through the rubbish all over the floor or if that Growlithe hadn't' scorched everything here by missing him those lucky few times. He didn't really have time to get himself up, he wanted this thing quenched and done with. So wriggling around pretty much blindly, finally taking his eyes from gawking at his own afflictions and staring at something no less menial. He spotted the floor - a muddy mess of black mulch and half-burnt twigs – then did what he needed to do the second after he got himself lit up by that huntress. He slammed that wing down into the dirt without a second thought only to be unexpectedly greeted by everything in his limb tensing up like a madman, constricting his every muscle inside of there until they collectively began spiting out their last spiteful breaths. That, and he had a whole billow of steam shooting up into his face. Granted he wouldn't have had much time to even recoil away from the aforementioned blast, he still felt as weighted as a he could physically withstand with that terrible wound starting to add itself onto that irksome pile. But it wouldn't take much, it wouldn't take long either. It was no flamethrower, but he sure wasn't tempered well enough to shrug these things like these off in the literal heat of battle. Despite stubbornness and brutish mentality, he deemed it to be safer than sorry with maters like these. Because apparently the only thing he cherished alongside keeping some modicum of fool's pride was the armor that may as well be glued to his skin he wouldn't ever take this heavy thing off.
It sizzled, the few sticks that were still sticking out of it were thoroughly scorched into ashes and the red-hotness began to dry away as all that muddy earth steadily became nothing other than dry, hardened dirt. He gave it one last moment, he didn't want to suddenly take his wing out of there only for it to suddenly become encased in clay. His beak practically grounded against itself, enduring whatever pain decided to shoot from that limp old thing with a tension that pushed him closer and closer to shattering the jagged little teeth inside of there. He expected it to be a lot worse, he though he'd start writhing like a decapitated pup but lo and behold he managed to keep himself from crumbling on the pressure quaking over him. He wanted to snap, he wanted to put himself back down to reconsider everything that's transpired thus far. But it must have been the last bit of adrenaline that kept his wing down and him borderline numb to whatever terrible wounds were painted all over the insides of that metal limb. Guess he'll know when he decides to pry part those plates to look for himself, or when it all of a sudden decides to come on back and start hurting all over again. But by then he'll probably in better hands, back inside his little cubicle somewhere inside of an even stranger place.
He pulled his wing away, gave it a final flap, and whilst he couldn't quite tell if he was burning red given those feathers were so red to begin with – staring at it didn't immediately boil his eyes. So it was fine, and by extension he as fine as the victims of fire-types could typically be. That really didn't surmount to much considering just how well that Treecko did. They almost went out the same exact way, trying to shield themselves with their own arms. The problem is steel melts, trees burn. True it still hurt like a crazed bisharp, it was damn well effective at hurting the flying type beneath all that iron. But it'd take a noticeable tad more to get him to literally melt than the little it'd take set a grass-type ablaze. And whilst he did make that treecko a promise that proceeded to be taken by the ears of someone else, he was more curious about the latter fellow. He lurched himself up, the bones and other motions inside of him creaking to life then proceeded to grab onto the nearest roots – whatever he could as he then struggled himself onto his feet with a triumphant huff.
Firstly, the Growlithe was as defeated as they come. She saw the mighty hole she had left in the tree, a big barren mark where bark had surely lined and became the thousands of chips sprinkled all around her. He stared, saw their defeatism that voiced itself by the frailty that had suddenly overcome her. And if that wasn't enough confirmation to say they had one this sudden battle by default, he heard the weak little creak bellow out of her lungs as she voiced her certain vanquishment. She surrendered as if he had every intent to continue this battlle. It really couldn't be further from the case as even the words that they had all mistaken were of him voicing his every intent to drag that treecko out of here and well, flee whilst he could still spare the fellow his life and save his honor. But it seems, he's “won” so to speak. It was more so the grass-type who had really earned them the victory. Which speaking of, that's who his eyes checked on next.
Only to see they managed to crawl themselves towards him then immediately crumble as they reached halfway over here. Much to his dismay, the fanfare was his now. He was the only left, sadly. His sudden opponent just admitted themselves to losing, and he'd be a greater fool than the one he imagined to let that opportunity elude his grasp.
The time he wasted trying to blind her was redeemed in the best way possible, if albeit a way that made him feel the least bit shallow at the end of the day. He outstretched a wing gingerly plucking at the top of his helmeted head and surely enough that plume whilst certainly needed a wash, wasn't burnt to a crisp. So at-least he had that, and with that wing still moving about he motioned to that Growlithe. Not a point, not a threat nor gesture like that, just a dismissive wave that kindly told her to get herself lost. Which now sighing and freeing what he stress he could from his anxious plumes, he turned to that treecko and traipsed those pounding steps towards him in a stride as careful as his quivering could be.
They were as out as they come nearly coiled up on themselves like a ekans who had somehow poisoned their own self. He wasn't moving, though anyone could still easily see the slow rise and fall of his lungs doing all those motions to keep him still very much alive. Though what mattered was their arm, a terrible, blackened thing that was as limp as the Treecko was faint. Whilst it was terrible, it smelled terrible and looked as bad as that stench was – it wasn't spreading all over him. They must have probably found a way to douse it somehow before it took them. A shame. Though he'd much rather come across someone who was faint as supposed to stumbling onto a charred outline of someone who was freshly turned into ashes by flames they just couldn't douse for whatever ungraceful reason.
He really had two choices, none of whom were exactly what he wanted to do and would probably incur the ire of that trecko by time he actually woke themselves up. He's already been over the first option when he though about catching them before, and with one of them probably still being a tad hot that would only make unintentionally cutting that fool into ribbons all the more easier. So no, he wasn't going to cradle him in his bladed arms the Skarmory wasn't that dull. So that left him with the only thing he had to drag something that didn't slow him down a crawl.
And that was grabbing the fellow by his unblemished arm then carrying them by in his beak like they were some infant.
However he'll manage, he will get this idiot out of here.
// You know a fireman carry would've probably worked more, but when your hands are blades that doesn't work too well. Hope your fine with me dragging him to safety lmao. That grimer's probably gonna come up next so have fun with that.
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Outlaw
| A memory is what makes you who you are! |
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PLAYED BY OOC NAME
PLAYED BY Darkringer
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Post by Tanis on Mar 23, 2018 13:32:02 GMT
For everything that she had managed to do to the two of them, Growlithe was actually halfway expecting the giant bird to do any number of various things to her as a result of her brash behaviour. Not her conclusion, as her conclusion that Tanis was going to destroy the forest turned out to be completely right, the destruction from his Solarbeam provided ample proof of that fact. What she hadn't considered was that it was by her paw that forced him into unleashing such a destructive move. Still, she set out what she had come here to do, that was to teach the Grass type a lesson, which she had accomplished with him falling victim to the Burn she inflicted upon him, so she was content in that regard. At the same time though, she had done something vaguely similar to the Skarmory whom it did seem like he was extremely agitated about it, not to mention suffering it perhaps a lot longer than even she thought it were possible. She didn't think she'd burned him too, but she failed to make the connection that Steel doesn't make a good insulator material, as the bird also knew all along. If she was threatened with her life, she'd admit that dipping his wing in mud to douse the hot feeling of her prolonged Ember was a pretty good idea. Messy, but good. She kept watching the scene unfold until the burly bird shot a glance in her direction. This was the moment of her reckoning, this was where her judgement would be passed. At that precise moment, her very being was up to the mercy of the steel type! What foul punishment would she be made to endure to satisfy the pain that he'd no doubt been forced to suffer through.
A quantity of potential ideas ran through her mind, but the one that he actually opted to employ was definitely not one of them. A dismissive wave was definitely not one of them. Growlithe perked her head up a little and twitched her ears as the Skarmory then simply completely ignored her and placed his focus on the Treecko. What just happened? Here she was, literally begging for forgiveness for arguably so many transgressions that she was certain wouldn't result in her being pardoned in any conceivable way, yet that's exactly what she received by the only one who was allowed to pass judgement in this case. But was that a guilty verdict with an official pardon, or not guilty? Either way, she merely watched as the Skarmory grabbed the burnt, green gecko in his beak, almost kind of looking like he was going to eat him in a weird sort of way at first, then leaving back the way he had come from when he first arrived, just as noisily back then as he was doing so now. Growlithe was alone at long last, left with nothing but conflicting arguments and a painful rock in her back. She tried to move, slowly and gingerly. It unfortunately ended in failure as while she was able to shuffle about on the ground, it came with shockingly painful consequences, mostly on her bitten leg. This left her with nothing but her thoughts as she played back the entire scuffle she'd just been in through her head. All of it seemed to play out as exactly as she expected, minus a couple of hiccups along the way, until she thought about the first Ember she fired at the Treecko's arm. It was done as a desperation move in order to get him to let go of her, which worked quite handily. That wasn't the issue that immediately made her grimace, it was the fact that she used Ember in the first place: The tenant! The agreement that all Growlithe's followed not to use their fire attacks in exchange for living here! She has literally just let go the two Pokémon who bore witness to her using her Ember, twice! That's not good at all...
Fortunately for the Skarmory, the transition of Tanis being on the ground, to Tanis being clasped within the confines of his beak was only as complex as it was grasping an immobile object. The only resistance that he provided was his limbs dangling towards the ground along with his head, otherwise he remained seemingly lifeless and almost plushie-like, or he would be if signs of his body functions didn't show otherwise. For every resemblance of the words of being blacked out, he was at the absolute mercy of the Skarmory and everything that was involved with him: How he was being held, where he was going, how he was doing it. None of those acts were anything he contested, or could contest against during the entire duration of the bird's walking. Not once did he show any signs that he was waking up or fidget any more than whatever motion the Skarmory made while he was moving. His body merely followed the sway of the movement and trajectory with not much else guiding where he was going of his own accord. His badly injured arm moved in precisely the same way that his uninjured arm and other limbs performed the entire time, which could be considered as extremely painful if looks are an indication to how much something hurt. Much like many other reasons that Skarmory is likely content with, his state has nullified whatever pain is shooting through his brain at that moment, to the cause that he had already passed through his pain threshold already, and his body had shut down because of it. More pain would literally be nothing more than a mere breeze within a hurricane until he woke up again. For arguably the first time since he arrived, the Skarmory was getting his way without complaint or any sort of real resistance from the other involved.
A feeling that could only be wished that it would last.
The trek itself lasted a good portion of time. During which time Tanis had not once roused or even showed any real sign that he was coming to, not did he herald any complaints about the beak that had been digging into him, which had also started to become quite painful to the knowledge of nobody, not even to the one suffering from it. While the walk itself wasn't completely void of Pokémon that happened to be there, none even so much as wanted to get in the Skarmory's way, the couple that were originally easily made some room for him to slip by unimpeded. That hadn't stopped them from debating just what had actually caused that situation between the two to occur, especially the burn marks they both exhibited, Tanis' being a lot more obvious and difficult to hide... Not that anyone was trying to do so. One or two did manage to put enough of the pieces together to figure out what caused it, and they were the ones who actually ran from the scene to who knows where. Journey-wise, the Skarmory has approximately made it back around three-fourths of the way out of the forest, not that there was any real indication of that as the trees still blanketed an opening that made it seem like he was actually nearly out. That was when the obstacle stood there, unimpressed.
The mire of the forest and its inhabitants, a Grimer, stood near a tree, easily burning and poisoning the roots surrounding it, slowly killing that tree with each passing second. He didn't appear too stressed about it, nor did he even notice that he was doing it in the first place. He likely still did, but it was not intentional, not this time at least. Grimer noticed the pair right away, the Skarmory being the most stealthiest Pokémon on the planet as they slowly approached effectively where he laid in wait. He intent was not to ambush, as he was effectively just as much out in the open as the Skarmory was, besides, how was he supposed to have such an imposing presence if no-one can see him. He merely watched at first, watched as the pair reached him. He didn't feel the need to move or approach them himself if he knew they were coming his way anyway, which they were. He found the situation of the big Steel-type bird carrying around what he assumed was lunch in his beak. His so-called lunch definitely looked like he'd put up a fight, but he wasn't quite convinced it was with that bird. Even so, they were approaching his territory, and he was certainly not going to allow that transgression to stand without recompense. Before they could pass him, Grimer slithered and sludged away from his position, directly into the bird's path. In hindsight, how he could be as imposing as he felt with a Pokémon easily twice his own height was up to question, but nevertheless he continued.
"Yo. Dis 'ere's mah hood! Ya dig?" All Grimer was essentially missing was a gangster hat and glasses, and he'd have the full look alongside that heavy accent of his. His choices of words were... Interesting to say the very least. Nevertheless, he spoke with complete confidence and despite standing in the way of a Pokémon he couldn't poison in any possible way, he didn't relent or back down. "Ya wanna pass, ya gotta pay up brah! Drop da 'mon and ya goods, and ya free ta go!" This, as it turned out, was a shakedown, or potentially blackmail against the Skarmory. In spite of his... Unique wording and the variety of how many potential ways he could say different words so he could use them with as little effort as possible, he was declaring a toll to be paid for passage. While his direct approach may seem it, he doesn't come off as aggressive or looking like he's about to lay down some damage, unlike the Growlithe whose intent was clear from the start. That said, who knows what he may wind up doing if the toll isn't paid before the Skarmory tries to pass. Grimer, at the very least, is not willing to negotiate his terms as such. His arms folded and looking somewhat expectantly at the pair, as if his words were absolute and he's going to get exactly what he's asked for. Whether he would uphold his part of the bargain if it's paid is always the uncertainty in these types of situations. The bigger question is not so much why there's a toll to be paid, but whether the Skarmory actually passed this spot on his way here, and whether the Grimer was there that first time. Only the Skarmory knows the proper answer to that one.
The only thing that Tanis could do in this situation, was to remain exactly how he was after he was picked up: Dangling lifelessly at the mercy of the Skarmory's beak. He had no words to say, or any sort of opinion that he was actually a part of this toll for passage. This was, in a manner of speaking, an absolute nightmare for him at this junction. Not only has he been burned effectively alive to a half burned piece of salad, but now he was unknowingly face-to-face with a Pokemonw ho he equally had a weakness against. Just what sort of situation did Invictus throw him into just for the sake of undoing the wrongs he doesn't remember committing? For another first time, he was powerless to do anything for or against this entire situation he'd found himself in. It would boil down to the decision of the savior in this instance.
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Ah, the pains of RPing a Pokémon who is knocked out... Not much to really say. :v We'll need to think about this Grimer's level of 19 though mate: As it stands right now, we can't beat it as just us two, we'll need to up our levels by at least three or four between us before we can do so. Any thoughts?
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White Dawn
PLAYED BY OOC NAME
PLAYED BY Birb / ALegionofKaw
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Post by Oscar on Mar 28, 2018 3:36:39 GMT
They made some headway, or rather he did and carried the fellow alongside him. It was a bit hard to see, it was quite the weight on his neck to carry that lizard wherever he went. He just grabbed the fellow by the scruff of his neck, trying his best not to crush the fellow's nape or dig teeth into them as they idly dangled from his maw. All things considered they were surprisingly light; they were a grass-type after all and they certainly didn't have a full set of iron weighing them down. He could likely throw this person a good couple yards if he poured enough of his heart into tossing them, which unless he were to have a sudden change of heart he wasn't about to endanger the only witness to all that's transpired so far. Well, the only one aside from that huntress over there. But if he had to happen any guess, she probably wasn't going to last long enough in that disheveled state to come back around to spite the both of them. It'd take more than just a couple minutes of sitting there to mend the scars of that whole kerfuffle - he knew that much, and it was likely going to take just as long for this grass-type to get out of his unconscious stupor. Because after the many, many minutes it took for him to reach where they'd gotten up before he was unceremoniously stopped it was quite fair to presume he was getting tired of burden a limp and beaten lout put on him.
As much as the prospect of dropping him seemed so endearing, it was obvious that he really just couldn't – he'd probably to start loathing himself more than the fact he had to carry him about. But he made a commitment, one that seemed to have fallen on either the treecko's deaf ears or had been misconstrued by whomever happened to be in earshot. Needless to say it didn't matter what he thought nor said, if the only one who heard it had taken it as something else then it was to bear about as much significance as the filth-covered earth lifted this oaf over. True he didn't make a proper note when he was entering this hole but it at-least seems as if it had somehow gotten worse in the span it took for him to stumble onto the grass-type, fend off a flaming hound, and start the long haul of getting out of these maze-like woods. There were no longer leaves covering every inch of the soil below him, the flourishing canopy overhead was losing it's blanket and all he saw for yards around were moldering twigs ready to snap at the lightest touch. Honestly it just made things a bigger nuisance than they already were. He couldn't just run if he wanted to; he had to carefully tear every talon out of the grimy earth then slam it into the neck blackened puddle only to repeat the cycle over and over again as he forcibly trudged down a road he already blazed with a limp body within his beak. And all that sloshing, the rattling of plates, the snapping of twigs, the whole uproar had to grab someone's attention sooner or later. Which it would hardly be for a moment longer, when he finally garnered the attention of someone – another unscrupulous soul in a forest that seemed to bring all of them together.
Except this one happened to be someone who both dwarfed him and was the thing he was brought here to deal with before he got thrown into a whole affair that ended up with both of them the scars to show it – a surefire sigh that they were nothing right now other than freshly tendered pickings for someone who'd be more foolish than they were to let this opportunity slip them by. And even with that outlandish dialect of theirs, yeah, they weren't letting the two saunter – or clatter their way through unscathed.
He clenched down on his beak then fumed his wicked breath over the scoundrel dangling in his maw. The Skarmory stopped, halting at the first sound that was anything aside from the constant racket that seem to follow his every stride. A glance to the horizon, gazing beyond the wilted roots of an old tree did he lo and behold what couldn't have been any other thing than foe who saw a chance then proceeded to leap at the opportunity with boisterous bliss. Well, it wasn't blissful. The slime's voice sounded like an accented grater screeching right into his ears. They bounded over the roots they defiled with a slop to their amorphous stride, proceeding to wobble their way towards a skarmory who's plates rattled and his tendons locked at the sight of an adversary that wasn't just some bug-type scampering at the sight of them. Maybe they weren't as tall as him, maybe they wouldn't be so brutal as the ill-tempered defender of this bog. But if those people saw these louts as a large enough of a problem to hire on a skarmory who was equally as brash in his own right just to aid in getting rid of them, then they were ever so likely to be a tad more threatening than what little huntress this forest could throw their way. For the other lass was a mistake that spiraled into the losing party screaming mercy, and he certainly didn't need to ask to know this highwayman wasn't going to settle for simple mercy. He wanted payment, he wanted whatever goods he had. And though whilst those other two were equally as negligible – he didn't quite have anything he really considered precious aside from his own skin - he wasn't about to hand over this treecko just so they can have a lizard-flavored meal. At-least not to some random puddle of gunk with a mouth about as fetid as their stench.
He listened to that nonsense just long enough to weigh in their words and otherwise doing the usual bout of thinking before he'd start barging into negotiation. Honestly he would've answered a lot sooner – he didn't want to keep his cynicism waiting, but he was a bit preoccupied with the person he had in his beak. It's a shame, he probably would have easier time bargaining if he wasn't so out for the count. If in the chance they weren't snoozing away, he'd probably be the first to see him start kicking around out of nowhere. That's what he would do anyways if he discovered he was suddenly picked up by the neck and hauled around somewhere – albeit somewhere that was supposed to be safe. The only problem is that it wasn't safe unless their definition of well-being was having a the scum of the earth looking over there shoulders ready to chomp them down or whatever those googly-eyed bandits would do them. Well they made their demands, and seeing as if he wasn't exactly in the postion to make his own – he lacked for forsight to really see that and immediately started blathering away. Pausing however it long it took to safely drop that fool onto the earth, pin him upright with his talons then put a dirt-covered wing between his unconscious companion and their gooey not-so-little friend over here.
Granted the only reason why he was able to carry himself with that stuck-up demeanor of his despite carrying about an injured fellow, being injured himself and being threatened by a fellow who could very well pummel him - was this false sense of prowess he got from wearing all that clumsy iron. It was in his blood, it was in his feathers, and all that steel warded poison like nothing else. At-least that's what hearsay would have him to believe, but if the worst was to ever come then he could probably make due with getting slammed by whatever tricks they had up their slime-ridden sleeves before he could get out of here. That's even assuming anything would even come of this, because if those burns along him and that Treecko could already prove their weakness then surely they can prove something more than just that.
Because no matter how much he dreaded putting himself anywhere close to those ruffians, after all he did get into a squabble with whomever was hunting those slimy fellows,and by every means he probably should tell them about it. For all that it was worth maybe painting himself to be the same cloth as they were was probably a tad better than leaving this place painted in his own crimson. He sighed, breathing in that terrible air before hacking it straight out of his lungs with a terrible cough before putting on the best stone cold gaze he could scramble together as anxiety slowly warped itself into liquid conceit.
He was no better, his tongue was about as loud as he was minus the strange blubbery voice the other fellow had. Though at the very least he was able to pride himself in his whole demeanor, ruffling his quills as he stood high with one wing clasped over the treecko's side. He frankly didn't know what kinda show he was trying to put on, he just went for whatever seemed to fit himself during that very moment. Cowering his anxiety under some guise of pride or borderline ruthlessness with a gaze that wavered, and with a wing that tried presenting itself to the best of it's scorched inability.
“Well I'm not giving you this fool here, and I wouldn't give you coin even if I had any to speak of.” His eyes kept furrowing with a gaze sternly on them, but his head couldn't be further away from that grimy adversary. Because the moment he let his beak start blathering his thoughts had left the here, and found themselves rounding back to a wallowing huntress. “But I've got something a bit better than coin if you're up for a walk.” He nearly bit on his tongue, loathing the very words that started to slip from him. “And if you don't believe me now - which you damn well shouldn't - then I've actually got something to show that I'm not trying to pull on over you."
// Heck. A bit rough, but blocks got me all of a sudden. i would've gotten deeper with it, but I think I just wanted to convey the general jist to you. There's no way Oscar and Tanis could feasibly fight them, maybe together but not when one of them's out for the count. So why fight them anyways when it's probably for the better that they crack a quick bargain?
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Outlaw
| A memory is what makes you who you are! |
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PLAYED BY OOC NAME
PLAYED BY Darkringer
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Post by Tanis on Apr 1, 2018 23:07:26 GMT
Perhaps to the point of feeling that approached being a protector in a wild sort of way, Tanis became entirely encased in the Skarmory's very own metal coating. All of a sudden, it seemed as though he had picked up a trace amount of armor to call his very own. Admittedly, he wasn't exactly wearing it himself, but the shield can be equally as important as the sword, not that he'd be one to admit it, typically relying on evasion and his speed to see him through battles rather than trying to brace himself for it, most of the time at least. Sadly the battle with the Growlithe didn't exactly give him a fine opportunity to actually put that into practice, having been caught from the outset and not released until the damage had already been done. The only other instance was the Stun Spore, which didn't count either considering his type's immunity towards it. So it made for a strange twist for him to be within, arguably, a metallic shell that was keeping him safe. That did mean that someone, namely the owner of the metal shell, was in the firing line instead of himself. As such, it was the Skarmory that was directly in front of Grimer, and it was him that had been on the forefront of the demand that he had requested of him. The bad news, as the Skarmory correctly surmised, was that the situation would perhaps be more favourable were Tanis not incapacitated to unconsciousness. The good news however, is that Tanis is incapacitated to unconsciousness. It did mean battle was not as appealing an option as it may have been originally, but in this situation, it meant that diplomacy was actually an option for the Skarmory. Whether he realized it by now or not, Tanis' response had he actually been awake and hearing everything that he had said prior to the demands made was more than likely going to result in them both in a fight against him right out of the gate. After all, if the Skarmory walking away after a snide comment to him was enough to trigger him to battle, then surely being a part of the bargain for passage, wasn't going to end in an exchange that didn't end up with moves being exchanged! At least he had a chance to try and use his silver tongue to get himself out of it as opposed to being dragged into something he may or may not have wanted.
Tanis' position within Skarmory's metal state was somewhat interesting to say the very least. True to his current form, his entire body is propped upright only because he's leaning against the talons, which both kept him upright, as well as prevented any form of movement from the steel bird, lest he flop back down to the ground in a heap, which would be amusing if nothing else. His tails poked out from behind Skarmory between the talons, yet still remained lifeless and continued to remain drooped to the ground, like a lifeless arm. Similarly, his injured arm, still coated in a dark jet black from the remnants from his Burn, showed no initial signs of healing, nor the bite mark on his forearm. Despite that, it remained as lifeless and painless as the rest of his body or indeed his other unscathed arm. It certainly looks painful, and it likely is, yet while unconscious, it's all the same. His head rested against the Skarmory's body as the rest of him his kept propped upright from his unwilling travels from his fallen position, to this particular point. His recovery had seemed slow, for lack of a better term. Some Pokémon can quite easily get up right away from being knocked down, albeit in a questionable state and certainly not one for fighting some more. If there's one moral thing among even the baddest of Pokémon, it's not to go after someone without the will to go on. That didn't seemed to have been the case for Tanis himself. What caused that was not because his body had refused to allow him to recover in any way, since it had done so nicely. Instead what caused it was his method of carry that Skarmory employed. While it didn't inflict any additional damage or wounds to him, in spite of what the redness on the back of his neck would otherwise state, it was because he was still 'suffering' with some resemblance of pain, that prevented a swifter recovery. This had made the Skarmory's job of transporting the Treecko a much more easier task considering he didn't have to contest with a flailing one foot thing that wanted to be let down. The decision behind it may have been curious, but the results were the same.
Now that Tanis was freed from the burden of being carried like a small child however, his body finally began the recovery process to waking him up again. The effect was almost instant, having been through the time of being completely rigid and mummified, so to speak. It began with a large exhale of breath, audible only to someone as close as Skarmory was to realize he was making it. It became a bit more pronounced after that, lasting a short while before it calmed down just enough that it didn't make a visual representation of his actual breathing bar the usual motions of his chest expanding and deflating a touch with each breath he took. Those fortunate to have never felt the thrill of being knocked out have absolutely no idea what they're missing. They all differ in some way, yet all results are the same. For Tanis, it's a largely painless waking process. Yet at the same time, it's also a taxing and dazing performance. A single attempt at cracking one of his eyes open just enough to allow light to pour into it was all it took for him to be completely bombarded with all manner of sharp and bright colors that he certainly wasn't prepared for. Every single sense in his body were reacting confusingly and sending numerous mixed messages to his brain, which was also just as clouded and confused as the rest of him. He could feel himself touching something on his feet and something he's leaning on in his back, yet the feeling is mixed in with a numbing pin and needle sensation, that he couldn't come close to figuring out what he was feeling. All his hearing was giving him was a high-pitched whistling sound that were mixed in with the Grimer and Skarmory's conversation that he couldn't make out as words coming from a Pokémon: Just noises. These were just two examples of the entire mix of five that were running completely wild and left him debilitated and no closer to being completely roused as he was before he actually did something besides act like someone who was dead.
... Though depending on who you ask, it's an improvement...
With his vision of Tanis coated completely by the Skarmory's wing, Grimer is unaware of any of the shenanigans that the grass type is actually attempting to wake back up. Instead, he was watching the bird weigh over his dilemma that he took the pleasure of bombshelling unto him. He did witness the bird treat the grass type he was holding with a touch of care, which looked rather peculiar considering the thing was obviously burnt and was beyond the point of feeling too much in the way of pain... Enough that he figured he'd care too much about it anyway. But it was the way that the Skarmory covered him with his own wing, like a large shield protecting an otherwise delicate and certainly fleshy interior. He didn't know their chemistry, if one even existed between the two, but what was clear, was the first indication that the giant bird was probably not going to pay his toll. Though the method was different from what Grimer has born witness to in the past, the logic and reasoning behind it was no different to what he has actually seen. Some noble gesture in an attempt to protect someone else. A commendable effort to be sure. Commendable, but futile.
That look though. That look that the Skarmory was giving him. It seemed like one that was not backing down, that was what was different about this. It was pretty clear in past instances that those that did try to protect another did so purely because instincts told them to despite what their mind and gut was telling them to do instead. It could be seen on their faces as if the word 'petrified' had a pictured description of it in the dictionary. The situation that made those different, was that the majority were Grass types. Skarmory was most certainly not a grass type, although his unconscious companion seemed to share some similar qualities of one. That said, he hadn't seen a Pokémon quite like it before, so he only assumed it was the case. Nonetheless, he pried on having him as a part of the toll for passage simply because he was a Grass type. That and he figured it was a more likely cost willed to pay considering it was the Skarmory who was still upright. However one-sided it may have seemed and sounded, getting out of a situation unscathed with your life intact is better than... Well.. Anything else. That's what the Grimer thought at least, yet his generous offer is always turned down for some peculiar reason. Yet, here he was, and he had a sense that he was going to be turned down again. Oh well, he'll go down just like the rest of them have done. It's no different.
The initial response from the bird was of no real surprise, it most certainly was the confirmation that his toll was being declined. A touch surprising was the Skarmory calling Tanis a fool. Now that's indeed odd... Why call someone you're covering up like that a fool? Grimer didn't stick too much thought about it, as he felt a lot more responsive on the response about 'coin'. That immediately got the poison type into a long and rather daunting sounding laughter that reverberated the scene in an instant, or so he felt at least. "Jack, brah? No-one 'ere need dat!" Of course, money is always in appreciation no matter who is receiving or taking it, of that there is no denying. Grimer's interests is not so much exclusively set on money alone however, which is why he described his toll as 'goods', not money alone. Food, possessions, materials, pretty much anything besides what isn't already composed of the genetic makeup of what makes the Skarmory an actual Skarmory: Not much worth in a Skarmory's talons or tail after all. Even so, he made the point perfectly clear. Yet boredly, he listened to the steel bird plead his case of a much grander prize, one that supposedly would make taking Tanis and Skarmory's goods not as appealing. It was a trivial matter that he really didn't want to have to start negotiating an alternative price for passage. He wasn't willing to pay, he wasn't going to get through, it was as simple as that. As for the alternative payment... Well, it wasn't here, which didn't exactly give the bird any further leverage than he had to begin with, that being he didn't have much at all. Grimer was more than content to express that opinion to him in a pure and matter of factly way as anyone would do. "Yer not payin', yer not stayin'. Dats it!" His manner, while not entirely indicating that he's going to attack persay, made it perfectly clear that he wasn't as willing to negotiate the passage any further than he needed to. His offer was rejected, that's the end of it.
That wasn't to say he was giving up on his prize though.
If this something else is apparently a bit better than Grimer's original offer, then his counter-offer was pure and simple. His stance didn't change at all, and it continued. "Gotta get it brah. If its dat good..." It made perfect logical sense, at least to him, though whether the Skarmory would see it his way was still up in the air: If it was really that good, then he should have zero problems going back to get it, then come back here with it. Grimer didn't see any logical reason to actually walk anywhere in order to get what he wants. After all, if the thing was immobile and he had to go there to see it, then there's not really too much point in him going since he couldn't bring it back here. So why should he follow them, potentially into a trap, just to go get this thing? He could've inquired with the Skarmory to stop playing to pronoun game and just tell him what it was... But why spoil the surprise? But, he needed to be perfectly sure about one thing. "Gotta leave summit doe. Gotta come back!" As much as it really did sound like a cheese grater that was grating something equally as metallic as the armor Skarmory was wearing, Grimer made an indication of collateral. He wanted insurance to ensure that the Skarmory would return to him with this bit better thing. To his credit, he didn't bring up Tanis at that point, but he wanted something temporarily so he at least got something out of this if they bolted and never returned. Grimer remained on the aggression and continued to spur on the bird to something that favoured him, and him alone. How one-sided was his thought process...
Skarmory had likely realized by the way he was moving his head lightly, that Tanis was very slowly coming to at long last. As ironic as the timing was, it would take a while longer before he would actually be alert and coherent enough to actually realize what was going on. His vision was still an entire mix of various colors that held no shape. It was strangely mostly in silver, but he had no idea why. Similarly he could hear... Something... But it sounded like nothing more than background noise coming through a straw attached to his ears. The pain he should really be feeling on his arm is still completely masked by the fact that he's still entirely dazed and incapable of doing anything more than breathe and showcase that he is actually a living being. A zombie sounds like a good comparison, though perhaps not a fair one, zombies are much more animated! His mind was more akin to a white noise and a television showing nothing but static. For all intents and purpose, he was still incapable of maintaining himself or any resemblance of being called awake. Unable to stand by himself, he continued to lean on the talon, not realizing himself he's doing so. There is no singular point of problems that he feels is an actual problem, as his scope of focus seemed like it doesn't exist, for the moment anyway. Tanis' recovery is coming, but Skarmory is still on his own through lack of the other being nothing but a lifeless doll that breathes and occasionally moved his head slightly.
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Struggled with this one. :x Even together, we don't have quite enough to take the Grimer on. Considering that it's apparently a mandatory thing, it is something that we'll have to do eventually, but until we can either pump our levels somehow or find another way around it, we're not going to get very far.
I kind of winged this response as I was a bit stuck on what I wanted Grimer to do. I hope you didn't mind me taking 'control' as such with Tanis out of action for a bit. It gave me something to post. Heh...
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White Dawn
PLAYED BY OOC NAME
PLAYED BY Birb / ALegionofKaw
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Post by Oscar on Apr 3, 2018 6:58:09 GMT
He didn't exactly think he was going to lure that oaf over with the nothing he provided as bait, but despite that grimer still being on the offensive and ignoring the fact he's seemed to have insulted the bellowing fellow by even suggesting he wasn't giving whatever a ruffian like him could have wanted. He'd at the very least wrangled that idiot's attention. As after that initial bout of obligatory threats and reinstating his share in the matter, he got them to show something other than hostility. He got that oaf interested. In what he's yet to lay out with words, but he wouldn't have said what he said if he hadn't the slightest idea of what he intended to bargain that grimer with in the first place. Which the more he thought of it, the more time he left for that plan to germinate inside of him the skarmory winded up feeling about as - if not more grimy the 'mon who for lack of better word seemed to be literally made out of it. But that wasn't going to keep him from doing whatever it is he intended to do, because if that Treecko was down then he sure as heck was going to go down without somebody to keep that big fellow's pressure between them two. Yet as luck would have it the second he began to remorse over the lack of an ally, that missing compatriot finally decided to wake from his stupor and show his face again by wheezing like a magikarp freshly fished outta a river.
Granted they had every reasoning to hack and wheeze, and cough up whatever stuff is supposed to be the ichor of those grassy fellows, that wasn't going to stop the audacious bird from scolding him. Why they got up now when they've hit the only real danger for miles around was beyond him as well as beyond the Bird's interest. For all that he was going to concern himself with, it was by sheer chance that he awoke when they really shouldn't have awoken. Granted all the sounds and murmurings that left the Treecko were as frail as they should be, it mustn't have looked nor sounded any different from that Grimer's perspective judging solely by the fact he didn't seem to bat any of his ogling eyes at the awakening treecko. Instead his eyes were where they should be, at the 'Mon who was actually awake and on guard as supposed to the 'mon who may as well be dead for all that was concerned. Which speaking of, that's the only thing the Treecko's sudden breathing instilled in him, plain old concern.
As far as he was aware he could go home any time and not have to worry too much about what's happened tonight. What's happened today might become a blight on any future resume, attacking an ally of the person you were employed to for the day wasn't exactly the best mark to be plagued with, but if he was worried about coin then he would actually have a toll to pay to that Grimer. He might get reprimanded for it, a couple slaps on the wrist or maybe keeping him off duty for a week – just something that's enough to satisfy them and drive home the point that he shouldn't have done what he did despite being pretty much forced into the whole mess. Forced wasn't the word; it was his own initiative that told him to get into that fiery misunderstanding, But is that what the Growlithe is really going to tell everyone, that they callously charged at two folks who were trying to accomplish the same thing she was and nearly burnt them alongside a chunk of these precious forests? Of course not, she's going to save herself the repercussions and label this whole ordeal as a fight between some bandits in cahoots with the other bandits around here. And whilst he can't personally say anything for that Treecko – he knew as much about them as folks tend to know about the little group he's working with for a sizable chunk of his moons, he didn't like the idea of suddenly having to deal with more things atop of the Huntress he's dealt with and the Bandit he's currently in the process of dealing with. He wanted to leave this woods with only a singe. Not a singe mark, an infuriated employer, some stranger's life on his hands, and whatever else that Grimer was going to do the both of them if he didn't spit something out anytime soon.
Likely everything thing that's happened will get written off, he'll get replaced by someone who isn't going to fight with the people here, and he'll be sent on whatever job they need next. It's how things go, knowing that is about the only extent of solace he could find right now. More than anything he needed that, some semblance of clarity to get his head out of the muck, cleaned up and ready to be thrown back into it. He felt the treecko move, he heard them stir, yet his only reaction was to keep his head high with those quills kept low. Their crimson plumes blotching out pretty much any glance from inside to the outside as well their gray backing blocking any eyes from peering at that disheveled 'mon wriggling about inside of there. Yet of all places that delirious fool can slither himself up against they so happened to have decided that the best place was right up against his talons, so that if the Skarmory were to even think about fleeing he'd probably wind up punting the sorry bastard before he'd even grab him by the scruff of his neck again and fly himself away. Because for the time being he was stuck between a plant and a grimy place
He about stood his ground as much as that highwayman with wings sprawled out and his talons planted as firmly into the earth as he could without disturbing the poor thing stirring beneath him. Or at-least he hoped he didn't suddenly bother them when every fiber below his iron began to tense themselves up as the threat of a potential bout seemed to grow by each fretful second. Surely enough, the repetitive rise and fall of his chest suddenly soared and plummeted a gust of breath bellowed straight through him and to his idle tongue. In a moment that wasn't hopefully too late, he slouched his head towards the earth as his frilly red plume dangled from his helm down to his wings and his amber gaze shot whatever look happened to fit the moment. A look that was drenched in the cunning and sharp guile that by every imaginable extent the Skarmory had lacked. It was a hastily crafted look that he could only pray to himself that itmeant business in a tongue completely foreign to him.
“That's where we get to the big problem.” his tongue clapped against his beak in the closest thing to a smacking a bird could surmise. And just like so, that awful sensation came flushing back to him as his eyes faltered before they could convey half of what guise his iron-visage was trying to put on. “We've.. w-well.” Every little stammering made him sound more disingenuous by the second, and that was about the worst thing he could have done to someone who only needed a good excuse or two to leap on the offensive. It took a moment, one longer than he should've before his silence had cleared his words. “You know what? I think it'll be easier on the both of us if I put it simple.”
Even if it was taken by the slightest of quivers, only noticeable from the faintest rattling his plates had screeched, he gestured nonchalantly to the bounds behind him. “You know those Hunters - those flaming little mutts?” Maybe diplomacy wasn't the scoundrel's strongest suite, but maybe deception would be better up the Skarmory's alley. After all there was some inkling of truth he could back down on, something that could give him the false sense of confidence he needed to say what he had to say without blubbering his words into a pouting soup. “Maybe you've had to deal with them before, I don't know – you sure dont look burnt to me by the looks of you.”
He didn't know what he was trying to accomplish at this point, maybe by speaking he only delayed the inevitable conflict that was about to come of this sudden meeting and his foolish refusal. But maybe he needed time, time to think of he was going to get himself out of the incoming mess now that he had a wriggling little carcass to drag everywhere he went. He wasn't that much of a smith of words, he only was so talkative whenever it didn't count, whenever he was insulting someone with infantile nonense. So lo and behold, it surprise him when he started speaking only to keep on speaking without so much as a warble breaking his voice. Guess he must have spoken from a place of honesty after all, because as terrible as it was it came from a place of mutual contempt not for them as a whole, but for that fool-hearted huntress who nearly burnt them both to smoldering cinders.
“But if they've been as much as a thorn in your sides as they've been to us.” Assumptions weren't the best things to make right now, but if he had to suddenly make one then this was about the best assertion he could've made about that lout. He perked this head this time, nodding, pointing behind himself in a motion that lead deep into the forest they've dug themselves out of. “Then someone like you wouldn't really let the opportunity to take a helpless one of them ransom, now would you?”
And he would lead them there, at-least in the general direction. And with that proverbial sum he could buy himself their tickets to leave this place, wiping themselves clean for the most part of a commotion that was going to put themselves in infamy. The only problem, aside from the one he hoped was his only problem, was having to show the grimer his proof of this. Given as his proof aside from whatever blackness was still clinging to his wing that could easily be written off as all the grime surrounding these forest, was nothing other than the Treecko himself and his horrible arm. Then again, who was saying that Grimer wanted any part of that? Maybe he just wanted whatever the Skarmory had to offer and the food that Treecko was likely to become to that hunk of poison. It may be a blind shot at nothing, though the effort on his part was at-least commendable. Besides if anything were to happen, the both of them seemed ready for a quarrel that was going to last as long as it would take someone like that brute to whittle down his armor. For as ostentatious as it was, it was surprisingly durable, as well as surprisingly brittle for all things considered. As if all the rattling his weakly-chained plates weren't enough of a tell already. But nobody other than the him or the occasional steel-type needed to know that. The fact it looked impervious was all that mattered, even if the mon wearing it looked only slightly bettered than the beaten lizard hidden by his battered wing.
He just counted every second that past by, felt his guise slip slowly into a furrowed glare, and stood his grounds lest that treecko was going to replace that sorry huntress in this under-handed dealing. Either way, he'll find some place out of here with that Treecko conscious or not. Because unless he'd forgotten through all this talk, he still needed an alibi if ever he was to tell the tale of this or if ever he need a witness to this mess of an evening.
// Proboards died for a sec right before I was about to post this. But yeah we're probably just going to get stomped if an actual fight breaks loose, and I don't think neither of us are keen on having our fellas just bite the dust here and here. So I'm not sure if it has to be a mandatory fight or just a plain old encounter because it stands to reason that in the condition the lads are in, they're probably gonna well.. reason their way out of this.
Should probably ping a mod about it real quick to see what's what and if that's fine 'n dandy. If not, hey it'll be fun watching them get pummeled for the second time.
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Outlaw
| A memory is what makes you who you are! |
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PLAYED BY OOC NAME
PLAYED BY Darkringer
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Post by Tanis on Apr 7, 2018 16:46:35 GMT
For everything that he was completely unaware of, Tanis had absolutely no idea that he was the obstacle that was generating the Skarmory's immobility of the situation. It turned out to be him that was otherwise preventing the bird from making a sharp getaway should things turn out to go south. The fault does fall entirely on him, but his mind wasn't exactly telling him this fact in any way at that moment. All he could feel, and all his brain was really telling him, was that he was leaning his back on something, for all he knew, it could've been a tree, a wall, or maybe even a simple incline. He didn't honestly know, and unfortunately his clouded mind hadn't put the pieces together, and continued to not do so for the majority of the conversation that the Skarmory and the Grimer were having. In actual fact, it wasn't until a few seconds after Skarmory finished with his spiel about ratting out the Growlithe, before Tanis actually did anything else besides what he had been doing already the entire time.
Despite a slow initial recovery on his part, his situation had improved by a sizeable amount now that the process had properly started. A huge help on that regard, was the true sign that he was properly waking up and making a slow comeback: His ability. His own double-edged sword provides more than enough information to understand his current situation regardless of what he or anyone else may declare otherwise. Overgrow is a keen ability that endows the owner with additional strength and power towards the Grass type, yet keeps everything else the same. However, in order for it to properly activate, the owner first has to be dwindled to a questionable state of health that lesser Pokémon may consider the end of their battle. Not to Tanis. Overgrow, for all that it's worth, is more of a second wind, or a crutch, a last ditch attempt at trying to circumvent the tides of battle and swing it back to his favour. As proven last time it kicked in by his knowledge, it aided in doing quite a nice chunk of damage onto the Growlithe that had bought him to that point. But, it's classed as a double-edged sword also because, for as amazing and powerful as the ability is, it comes at the cost as a tell of just how weakened the owner is. A diminished Overgrow after that is a sign that their battle has ended: A precise textbook explanation and visual representation of what Tanis did against the Growlithe. Hope everyone was taking notes!
The logic behind it all pertains to the fact that the familiar sharp green and swirling light that coated Tanis' frame prior to his Overgrow kicking in, has come back! Just as it did the first time, his Overgrow filled his entire body from head to toe in a swamping and bright lime green light that, at first, threatened to blind the Skarmory if he so much as looked down. Its influence provided Tanis with a much needed boost to bring him back from his stupor. Incapable of fighting off its effects even if he wanted to, which he wouldn't, the Overgrow flowed through him like an instant wildfire encasing its prey in barbeque sauce beforehand. His breathing turned less death-masking and a little more normal as its influence empowered and instantly sped his recovery tenfold. His body now surrounded in a familiar green glow that the Skarmory has seen on him before, it wouldn't be long now for Tanis to be back on his feet if the first one was any indication. No longer in the throws of battle, it was possible to actually hear the Overgrow's effects as well as see it. The sound itself was rather faint, audible only to those about a meter away from it going off. It began similar to an electrical kitchen appliance whirring to life, remaining as such until the effects were set in place, leaving behind a continuous sound of leaves being carried by a gentle breeze. That breeze sound would continue to penetrate the Skarmory's and indeed Tanis' ears for as long as Tanis himself remained in a critical state. In which considering Tanis' recovery began from unconsciousness, that was likely going to stick around for a long while until he's able to recover more somehow. The end result of all of this were a lot more physical than it was mentally.
While it seemed as though he could potentially get himself back up again in an instant, his brain remained very slow on the uptake. Overall his state has recovered much better, having been given the time to actually do so with the diplomacy that was going on, and little else. His vision was becoming clearer and colours were starting to merge back to form proper shapes again, his hearing started making more sense and allowed him to actually make sense of what there is, his body was finally beginning to lose its numbness feeling. Yet he remained precisely as he was, leaning against the Skarmory's talons and unmoving. While the rest of his recovery was proceeding ahead of schedule, his mind wasn't acknowledging any of it, remaining transfixed on the idea that Tanis was incapable of moving on his own yet. Everything else pointed to the fact that he could, it was just a matter of him working out that he could do so. As a result, his thoughts were still up in the clouds and not forming anything coherent enough to utilize for anything, let alone bringing himself back from unconsciousness. He needs a touch more time.
Grimer couldn't help but find the situation quite amusing. He remained fixed in his position with his arms folded across in front of him, which almost made them disappear entirely considering it was made of sludge just as much as the rest of him is. The idea that he's dealt with the mutts, as the bird delicately put it, is very much true. The sign that he didn't show any signs that he has, due to the lack of any sort of burn marks, is largely due to his body's composition. Unlike the Skarmory, and especially so for Tanis, his entire body is comprised of a sludge-based liquid given form. Any and all marks like a burn would eventually get washed away and replaced along with the sludge that was affected by it. He shared no inclination in declaring whether or not he has actually come toe to toe with a Growlithe or two and fought them, but his cunning smirk indicated plenty enough that he's withholding a secret that he is not too keen on wanting to share at this time, if indeed he ever will. That is the one advantage of being comprised entirely of sludge of course: Any injury he does sustain will eventually just drop off him as if it were nothing. Though dealing with birds who are moulting is a slightly different experience... Those feathers can get everywhere!
But he was much more interested in what the Skarmory had to say rather than the reason why fighting Growlithe's leave no lingering signs on his body. After all, this was the bargaining chip that was supposedly going to fulfil an alternative means of paying for their toll. Of course he was going to be paying attention to that. The tale that he heard was... Intriguing to say the very least. It was a rather nicely woven tale that he felt was much too ridiculous sounded to be construed as something completely fabricated for the sake of getting out of this thing unscathed. Grimer will admit that he believes that they have bested one of these mutts that he described. That said, the Skarmory did say that there was a big problem... Grimer wasn't completely sure Skarmory was aware of just how big of a problem he has just presented in his case. Though it did take Grimer approximately ten seconds of deliberation after the offer was presented for him to figure out what that problem was. Until that point, it did indeed sound like a most appealing offer that would present a very interesting bargaining chip. Considering it, holding a Growlithe hostage could mean he'd have leverage in a negotiation for the Grimer to remain in the forest and potentially end the conflict. They'd be free to roam, and he'd have a good shot of being declared the leader for making it happen. That sounded very appealing at first thought. But as he was considering the true worth behind that outweighing his initial toll, he stumbled across the problem that the Skarmory mentioned only vaguely, and didn't bring it up further. Unfolding his arms, he lifted his right arm forwards and up slightly, giving out what would first be indicated as a victory sign, if it wasn't immediately accompanied by his initial response. "Two things, brah!" He has a counter-claim after all that?
Well, he certainly believed so.
He expressed both points as best he could, in a long-winded and difficult to understand manner that could rattle anyone's brain. (Which I'll save us both the time and trouble of doing it that way... Heh.) His first point was that the Growlithe herself was not where the three of them were right now, which meant that she was presumably wherever the Skarmory left her before he got here. This is of course implying that she actually stayed at that location, and that Skarmory could backtrack to the location again. Grimer said nothing more about the second pointy beyond that, but he did indicate to the bright green light he could see poking out of the other side of Skarmory's wing: Tanis' Overgrow. He heard 'the green one', as he called Tanis, coming to, though didn't make the connection that the green glow was actually anything related. So if he's able to do that and stand on his own four feet again, then what's stopping the Growlithe from doing the same thing and walking somewhere else? Did they kill her? If so, that makes her essentially worthless for anything more than a meal for carnivores. After all, a dead Growlithe is indeed helpless, but also lacking any sort of value. A knocked out Growlithe will eventually awaken again, whom will no longer be helpless. The only reason Grimer came to that logic was largely because of Tanis himself waking up, alongside what he's seen other Pokémon do after he beat them down. He doesn't, however, lay any sort of deniable claim that Skarmory's business pitch is worthless. Far from it, he's merely declaring that the bird is being too vague and picking apart his claim.
However, that first claim was a mere drop of water in the bucket to the second point that he bought up: That Growlithe is actually a rogue and not a 'huntress'. He has only one fact to support this claim, which ironically came straight from Skarmory's own admittance. The bird stated that she was a thorn on their side... Which Grimer suspected was the end result of Tanis' burned arm and Skarmory's equally sorry state. Clear signs that whoever they were fighting was using Fire moves. Whether the Skarmory was briefed about this by his superiors or not aside, Grimer firmly told the bird that Growlithe's that live in the forest don't use Fire attacks. He didn't and couldn't say why, only that they don't. So if they fought one that did use them, chances are it's either someone who doesn't live in the forest, or she does and is not a part of the main pack. Does that reduce Growlithe's worth? In Grimer's eyes, it does, as someone who is more influential in the main pack's eyes is worth considerably more than a rogue one that they likely don't care about. It is certainly a possibility that she's someone who doesn't adhere to the no-fire rule, or a slip of the attack caused by the situation: Tanis didn't exactly make the situation easy when she used it the first time. But the fact of the matter is that the Skarmory is bargaining with a Growlithe that used a Fire type move when there's apparently a no-fire clause in place for the Growlithe line.
... He wasn't as broad or nearly as detailed on his explanation as that, but that's the general jist of it.
"Your move brah!" As Grimer concluded his speech, he passes the diplomacy hat back to the Skarmory to plead his case one more time. He makes no indication that he's going to leap in for a sudden assault on the bird, not at this current occasion, which is a sign of potential good news. On the flipside, he has pointed out two things that he desires more clarification on before he's committed to call it a potential deal maker. In his defense, they are legitimate points, but he does suspect that there are perfectly logical explanations for both that he figures the bird can provide to improve the Growlithe's worth to him. Both those reasons do sound convincing enough on their own for him to dismiss the claim entirely and bring the toll back to the original, but he seems willing enough at least for the Skarmory to at least try to worm his way out of it before doing so. We'll see what he has to say on the matter.
Fortunately for him though, Tanis was still not quite capable of bringing his two cents or saying anything coherent enough that it forms actual words. The time spent from Grimer explaining his rebuttal was spent getting himself back on his feet. He did so, uniquely, by using Skarmory's lower body as leverage. While most Pokémon would require an arm, a handhold or some other means that Tanis used to get himself up, he instead used the iron plates as a surface to cling onto. Using nothing but the natural formation of his paws that he uses to climb stuff to grip himself and hold himself steady as he slowly bought himself back to his own strength of will. He gripped the Skarmory's armor without having turned to face him, instead he just bought his paws straight to him without turning, which meant that he gripped them with his paws facing downwards. What made it more of a struggle than it had to, was the sudden sharp pain that came from also using his left arm to hoist himself up... Which turned out to be a huge mistake. He's upright now, but he had to pay for it, which came in the form of him literally grasping the injured arm with his other one and placing it as close to his stomach as he could. His brain hadn't quite made the connection about why he's so injured all of a sudden, nor the situation that was going on around him. Now that the rest of him has recovered enough to stand back up on shaky legs, his mental state was next. With any luck, he'd be back and ready to go very shortly given his spike in recovery in partial thanks to his Overgrow, which continued to spiral and coat his entire body within its influence. But as far as playing any part in the current situation of the diplomacy, he unfortunately continues to play no actual role. But the clock is ticking! Who knows what he might wind up doing once he puts two and two together. For the moment though, he's shown no real sign that he's been paying any attention to what's been happening, he's been more engrossed in waking back up. So there's still time left.
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Well, the encounter did say that it was a mandatory fight, which is the only reason why I think a fight is inevitable. But if we could maybe delay it just a tad while we can improve ourselves (Rare Candy's are a thing...), we could potentially get our win. Alternatively we could maybe try getting a third character involved. That could also do it. Failing is also an option of course. I think that'd make for an interesting 'next scene' if Oscar drags Tanis as a witness to the whole thing. :v Let's have a think about it and we'll decide then.
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White Dawn
PLAYED BY OOC NAME
PLAYED BY Birb / ALegionofKaw
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Post by Oscar on Apr 19, 2018 9:32:29 GMT
Silver plated? Probably. He's seen heard of quite the many skarmory who were all pretty, polished, and pearly white despite him more or less falling into the line of polished brash as supposed to something sturdy or precious for that matter. He often marveled at his armor and how they filled him with the proud satisfaction of feeling safe beyond those metallic sheets at the same time marveling at how frequently they tended to rattle and often break apart. Mail as shiny as his required upkeep, it required care as supposed to doing absolutely nothing about it by simply treating it as if it were a random grown as supposed to a second skin. He wouldn't use the word of course, he was more of a person who relied on vulgarity and a coarseness that coincided with his attitude about everything. Silver would be the word he'd like to believe would fit him and his armor for that matter. Though for sure, he wouldn't put that sterling description anywhere near his voice as suffice it to say he fumbled at whatever he was trying to get that blubbery oaf to do. He had wit, but as it had quickly come to light, he lacked the voice to enact his cunning because whatever he intended to do didn't work, and frankly brought more questions forth that he didn't seem capable of handling with what he's gotten through and what pressing matters were currently in his hands – or talons in his case.
He's made a bit of a point to cover the fellow up so nobody would really worry about him, that the unconscious thing between his heels would go relatively unnoticed and that he could go about navigating their scoundrel diplomacy with a level head. Well seeing as he's already failed that, and seeing as he's more than certain to incur that blob's ire, the Treecko just had to wake up with a whole light show announcing to the forest that there was some fresh meat or plant waiting to be reaped. It had nearly blinded him, he was more so listening to the fellow blather on and on to have been spending his time staring at the fool underneath him, but not him, not the grimer – nobody could really bring themselves to ignore the Treecko after the dazzlingly green display his slumbering self had put on for them. He was already shaking about when he felt something tug onto the plates around his talons, realizing the Treecko was actually getting close to waking up and that he was about to have another issue on his hands that was addressing that fellow as to what was happening and what he was formerly trying pull on that Grimer. But when he couldn't imagine controlling his own clattering – that obnoxious though ever-present sound that was his plates rattling atop of each other as the tendons below them went about fits of sweltering anxiety – the dull sound had finally stopped when he decidedly froze at the first thing to drown it out. That what got him initially, but it was still eye-searing as was to be expected by whatever that verdant energy was inside of that grass-type. Yet it was that noise - the static sort of whirring that spontaneously geared into motion below – was what really had gotten to him.
He should probably be a tad more thankful that he wasn't staring at the fellow beneath his qings as supposed to being overwhelmed by uncertainty at the sheer notion of having to maneuver around the fact he had his friend awake now atop of having to explain himself to that Grimer. But then and there was when it really kicked into his head that he failed to really get through to that fellow's thick head, and it was then his thoughts were inevitably returned to the only thing he thought about drumming over instead of focusing on writing his hastily-crafted wrongs. They weren't awake in the sense that he didn't hear them say, and as he peered below – do anything that would suggest they were particularly conscious. But they were getting up, using the natural grooves and joint work in his armor to leverage themselves onto their feet in what he could safely assume was them going about the very first motions that weren't just them lying about and wheezing a storm. They'll be getting up sooner or later, ready to question the world around them as well as being just as likely to jeopardize any and everything he's been trying to do up until this point. Which seeing as what happened; personally having listened to every question and reason as to why he was wrong as he peered those amber eyes between those quills at the grass-type far beneath him, he'd would've come to the conclusion eventually that he'd failed and that he essentially dug himself into a corner with the bargains he was trying to strike with that lad.
Maybe there was way out of it, maybe he could say a couple things that would swindle the 'mon to some other viewpoint without making a fool of himself with a voice that lacked the profoundness to make a impact with the things he's spoken. But seeing as he's currently veiwing this whole thing as a monumental failure with no conceivable way out of this mess, the Skarmory hasn't exactly set himself up for success hasn't he? Though with his sloppily made views of how he sees things to be, then the impossible to attain success should be far, far away from his personal agenda as possible. What he should really be concerned with however is getting out of this mess he's unwittingly made for himself, and seeing as the fellow as moments away from awakening then they might be his means to getting them both out of here. As much as he'd want to; he's proven himself inept at buying his way out. So more or less he'd become forced into doing the only thing had shown himself to be the least bit competent at and that was biding them of them some time. How much time he didn't know, just enough for him to allow that Treecko to get themselves up and for him to think of a good excuse to as to not pay that grimer right now and to come to terms with fleeing what otherwise may be a harrowing encounter.
He'd never know, the Treecko could be in fighting shape by the end of it. But one slathering of rot from that fetid slime and he'll have withered away like the hundreds of other plants in here. He could speak the both of them by saying neither of them would want to get into a full confrontation with that slimy thing, but seeing as he's failed his only plan up until now then it was quickly becoming a reality after every minute he squandered of that miscreant's time. Worse comes to worse he'll get smacked on the back of his head for trying to sprint away, but it would never hurt to be safe in the event he'd have to take something during the eventual second escape he'll have to wind up making.
It might not have been a good idea to prepare himself in such a visible matter, though much of it could have easily been a mistaken on his own behalf. As finally perked his head, gazed the bulbous eyes of that bubbly fellow and snapped his eyes away as he went about the habitual grievance of Cursing under his nerve-wracked breath. Cursing as in mouthing off a few unsavory, unrepeatable things about his whole circumstance, cursing as in letting some steam and Cursing himself in a matter that only tangentially involved vulgarity. One breath of his had traveled from his beak in a billowy, cold cloud, it's chilling embrace traveling the ichor inside of him and though the slightest sheen outside of him. A shimmer that was about as faint as the sounds that Treecko clambering about had glistened over in his steel in waves of a familiar, frigid, though ultimately invigorating violet. And since he was still denied his footwork so long as that treecko slept up against his talons, he decided to fix everything else about him. He tried to establish more authority about himself by standing more upright, still keeping those steel covers overs over the treecko, and with his head high he had gone about scanning what he could of this murky cesspit.
The trees were rotted, the ground beneath them was a slosh of mud, sticks and whatever else those grimers were pouring into here, and the canopy overhead was as thick as ever and kept a fair majority of the sky out of sight from anyone unlucky enough to be stuck down in here. They were stuff he's gotten used to, those pines here would be as welcoming as the ones back home if they weren't so rotted and plain terrible looking after what they've been put through. The breeze that had manage to sneak it's way past though all those wilting leaves, the pungent odor that seemed to be permeating the air itself - none of that was important right now. What he was looking for was distance, which there was some amount to be found though not exactly what he would hope for. It was a couple yards, maybe four at most that were separating him from that festering slop. If he was any closer he would probably be knocked out from just smelling the horrific bastard, that treecko likely wouldn't recover for another hour and they'd be more doomed than they already where. Though perhaps that's what the smell was, that searing stench – the foulness that seeped it's roots into the very air itself, maybe that just came from the rotten friend over there.
Maybe he'd be able to sprint away, but given as he'd already put on his shackles already with that damnable curse then any hope of getting a good sprint off before the grimer could catch was about as unlikely as he was to talk himself out of it. So what did the Skarmory do in all his wisdom? He decided to flap his beak off and start trying to talk his way out of this – literally, he was looking for an excuse to turn around by earning the Grimer's permission to do so beforehand. Maybe then they'd be able to find their rest until the Treecko pulled himself together, or maybe he'd just get that expected chop to his nape for even thinking of running off and pulling something on this grimer. Either way it wasn't very likely to even work, though what was assured was enough time to get the Treecko closer to consciousness.
He stared towards the poison-type, feeling his brow weigh on his eyes as anxiety, frustration, and the weight of that Curse pulled him closer to acting like some grouchy oaf as he peered with an amber-colored scowl. Temping as it was to reach for the quill upon his helm, flicking that plume about like the arrogant cur he'll actually admit himself to being, he kept his grounds and kept that Treecko safely within them. And not long after did a grumble escape from his lungs and slipped out of him in a voice who's contempt was as visible as the steady glower he shot at that murky fellow.
“I never said you had to trust in me.” he huffed, trying to keep his voice as many pace away from growling at the bastard. “You shouldn't. For all that you know I could have been lying to you about that. But if you want my word on anything, I've got no problem whatsoever with retracing all my steps to grab that sorry idiot and to drag them over here.”
Did he have a problem with the idea? Yeah, two. One that he didn't want to drag that treecko around everywhere, and two – which was hopefully mutual - he just wanted to leave these woods already But the majority of what he said was a farce, whilst the rest of it came from a place of honest anger with everything that's been transpiring.
He had prepared himself for the worst to come with a move beforehand, he was honestly ready for a bout, but he was aware enough to keep putting on some farce just to earn himself a few more seconds worth of giving the toxic wad a piece of his mind as well as piecing together just what he's going to do after this - if it will even go the way he's expecting it to go.
But needless to say Oscar was doing what Oscar did best; pouting like an idiot in the face of severity.
Holy heck. Welp I managed to get this out before I got dragged off to doing other stuff for the umpteenth time geez, Also apparently cursing also activates Curse, who knew?
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Outlaw
| A memory is what makes you who you are! |
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PLAYED BY OOC NAME
PLAYED BY Darkringer
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Post by Tanis on Apr 24, 2018 0:23:44 GMT
The Grimer kept a tentative eye on the Skarmory as he continued about his motions as he considered just what to do or say in regards to his queries. For someone who speaks in a manner that doesn't seem to indicate too much intelligence, he at least seems to know his way around a negotiation. Which was to be expected considering he seemed to be marking himself as some sort of toll bridge of sorts to the supposed way out. He was the troll that guarded his territory lest a sacrifice be made in his honour that would satisfy him to permit passage. Those who wouldn't pay simply got flat out turned back, and were left to suffer the same fate as the forest that surrounded them: Choking in the confines of poisonous fumes. Of course, some Pokémon may have tried to barter with him in the past, though judging by his stance, with limited success. As the Skarmory may agree, he was short-sighted, but he also knew what would be a good deal in his favour. Granted, anything he could get out of the Skarmory could be considered a net profit in his stance, considering he went into this with practically nothing to lose and everything to gain. Even he could see though that his original price was rejected at this point and attempting to re-initiate it won't get him anywhere further than where it got him last time: Nowhere. So this supposed Growlithe was the only offer that seemed to be up for negotiation. The value of a Growlithe, secretly unbeknownst to everyone else outside of the Grimer-circle, is actually extortionately high regardless of their rank and standing. That's not to say that everything he mentioned was a lie when he bought up the two points, far from it. As far as he was aware of, and indeed the Skarmory most likely, he was accurate in his assessment. What he had underplayed, is how much a single Growlithe was worth to start with.
But it was the Skarmory penultimate actions that did raise a suspicious brow, if Grimer's even had brows in the first place. It also wasn't too uncommon that Pokémon would try to fight their way through him, with even lesser success doing that than bargaining with him. He didn't catch what the bird was saying under his breath, obviously something only Tanis would actually catch if the words made any sense. But the profound effect that whatever it was caused a rather substantial shift in stance. All of a sudden, Skarmory looked more sturdier, stronger, sluggish! That last one wasn't quite as initially obvious at it may have first appeared, considering that after blocking his way, the bird hadn't actually moved an inch in any direction. Just what was this guy trying to do? He didn't quite look like he was out looking for a fight, he certainly didn't look like he was initially considering he was carrying that grass type around like a rag doll. But that menacing look he was suddenly getting from the bird was not one that the Grimer took too lightly, staring back at the bird as if he really did literally just swear profanity about him under his breath which somehow made him more imposing than he did before. Grimer would admit that the Skarmory had plenty of reason to do that, again, that was a common theme to those he held up, plenty of choice words to go around, some of them not repeatable. But the point was that it seemed like he was gearing up to try something, which put the entire situation on a knife's edge all of a sudden.
.... Until he spoke.
The offer this time sounded much more appealing, if not a direct counter against what was said earlier when the Grimer made that offer to them back when Tanis was just started to come to. The offer was that the Skarmory would go get the Growlithe, but leave something behind to ensure he came back. The entire conversation had literally just come full circle, as once again the conversation has moved back to that specific deal. The Skarmory didn't seem too convinced that Grimer would accept that proposed option, and judged by his reaction of using his Curse, perhaps the time had come that a battle was inevitable. But what the bird had forgotten, was the actual fact that the Grimer proposed that plan of action beforehand, it sounded good when he said it then, and it still seemed reasonably good now. Suddenly, that tense situation that had befallen the place lifted as the Grimer met the scowl and otherwise growling nature with a nefarious grin. The Skarmory was trying to sound all tough and act like he was in the driver's seat, and yes, he did have something that the Grimer wanted. But Grimer also held something that the Skarmory wanted: Freedom. So who was really in the best commanding position at this junction? Difficult to really say, but the Grimer continued to enact like it was him, regardless of who it ultimately was. "Now ya talkin'!" The Grimer approved, confirming that while it was borrowing from what he had said earlier, he still felt it to be a good idea. They would get the Growlithe, he would evaluate then and see what would make the trade good for him. Perfect! He was all set with that plan to go ahead, and was quite willing to let the matter be resolved in that way without contest. Only hope now was that the offer of Tanis was out of the table after all is said and done. But there was still one matter that was left to address, which was the addendum that was also a part of that particular deal: The insurance. "So, whatcha leavin' for ya come back?" As far as the overall claim went, he had no issues at all. Now all he wanted was something that he considered to be of value so he wouldn't be completely empty-handed if Skarmory suddenly bolted or changed his mind about leaving. It was the only lingering portion that had yet to be addressed.
The connections for Tanis were all slowly fitting back into place. He was here because he was dragged into this whole Grimer situation outside of his own volition. Despite missing quite a significant portion of what had transpired since dealing with the Growlithe, in large part because he wasn't even awake for any of it to sink in in any way, what he did know that had happened swam back into the portions of his mind that begun to twist and weave into a proper story once more. At that same point in time, the difference between what was processing in his brain, and what was actually happening through his senses snapped back into place with nothing less than a huge fanfare as he immediately grasped his left arm tighter and constrictor than he had originally. All of a sudden the intense pressure and pain that flooded his mind overwrote what had transpired momentarily, as well as every other emotion and sensory that required his attention. The pain was centered squarely on the Bite wound that he took when he was ravaged by the Growlithe as they were both pinned within each other's biting skirmish. The Burn that coated his entire arm was also causing some pain, which couldn't be denied, but the core of it was on his wound. His body tensed and shook as he clenched his eyes closed and dove into his own little world, showcasing that he had perhaps not quite recovered completely to allow his Overgrow to nullify some of that agony.
While the Grimer was confirming the Skarmory's plan, the remnants of Tanis' mind that wasn't clouded over in his single emotion that wracked him, was spent calculating just how he wound up in such a sorry state of affairs. The downside was that it took him much longer than it probably should've done for him to completely connect all of the jigsaw that was the answer to his conundrum, so much so, that it would've been faster to probe the Skarmory and get a half-baked, but otherwise helpful hint in figuring it out. The time frame itself was a matter of seconds, quite a large quantity of them that easily wasn't until after the Grimer had concluded having his say, and was awaiting the Skarmory's offer to leave behind. Like with previous instalments that involved this two-Pokémon showdown of clear diplomacy, Tanis continued to remain in no actual part of it beyond being the initial bargaining chip that he also wasn't aware of. Beyond being a crumbled mess, he continued to be a spectacular light show. Not once did his Overgrow aura diminish or sway from its purpose of surrounding Tanis and granting him the reinvigorating properties that only those who own that ability could feel that sensation. This proved two very important facts as far as the Skarmory was likely concerned: He was still very much a painful eyesore, but he wasn't preparing to do anything battle-wise that involved a Grass type attack. If the Solarbeam he used against the Growlithe was anything to go by, the aura would absorb itself into his attack before using it. Whether that also applied to other types of moves was unknown, but at least there was that single relief that diplomacy was still on without Tanis putting his foot down and messing up the whole thing by being aggressive... Again. The Skarmory couldn't be blamed for believing that he'd do it again. This was especially true now that the allotted time had passed, and he had both his mind back in the game, as well has figured out enough to realize what had happened to him.
Tanis gave a heavy grunt, which was different from the otherwise snake-mimicry of the hissing noise he was constantly making as a result of him grasping his injured arm. At that moment, Tanis' head shot out from his otherwise self-depressed stupor he seemed content to be in up until now. His mind had finished processing that the Burn that he took from the Growlithe was what did him in, and naturally if a mere sentence was enough to trigger Tanis into seeing blood and beginning an assault against someone who didn't technically deserve it, than putting him down would only make him see nothing but red, quite literally! In that moment, he scoured his left and right side, what he could actively see that wasn't obscured by the Skarmory. True to the entire purpose of the wing being there in the first place, he didn't see nothing but the sharp greenery of the forest and the obvious damage that had been caused by the purple slobs that had roamed the land, the entire reason that he was there in the first place. There wasn't anything here that greatly resembled anything akin to what was the source of his mirth, or anything that he recognized from where he was originally for that matter, but that was a trivial matter. What was actually obstructing his view, as he could finally recognize and determine what it was, was a jagged and glistening wing, at least on this side anyway, that was otherwise blocking him from whatever was going on in front of him. Still somewhat enraged and thoughts filled with only one aspect at that point in time, his lifted his head to the sky to view the source of his obstruction.
... The Skarmory?
With his arms still locked with his right arm grasping the forearm of his left, Tanis picked himself off of the Skarmory's talons, centering himself roughly on the ground between the bird's feet, and where the wing that was covering him sat. He looked up at him with the rage that had built up as a result of wanting to punish the Growlithe more at first, an urge to attack that welled up from within. Two things as a direct result of what he saw, calmed him down from his otherwise insatiable state of wanting to murder. The first was the fact that it was the Skarmory that was obstructing his view in such a unique manner. Having what was going on in front of him completely blocked off by something he couldn't see through without a consorted and obvious effort on his part to move and poke his head to the side of that wing, could be considered enough to make him react, given his usual track record. But it was the bird's positioning that gave him pause. The Skarmory was covering Tanis with the inside of his wing actually facing him. He was, in essence, within the confines of what could be construed as personal space for flying types. Though all Flying types have their own weak points and not everyone is the same, the underwing is typically among the most common. Tanis certainly wouldn't have ever considered doing it if their roles were switched. Plus this wasn't forgetting the fact that he tried to attack him moments before the Growlithe went after him. He didn't know if the Skarmory was aware of that fact, otherwise he likely would've changed his mind about this... Position... Where Tanis could've essentially done something. He didn't have any real idea how long he'd been like this, which led onto the second point that he noticed: Whatever was going on, was definitely in front of him. The Skarmory's focus was not on him or the light show that he was projecting, at least not from what he saw at this precise moment. Whatever it was, it had grabbed the bird's full attention, and it was quite intense. So much so that he could feel the tension that the Skarmory was projecting as a direct result of the Curse that he used. While he was far from being capable of feeling the actual effects, as he wasn't the one that was affected, he could definitely see that there was some empowerment being projected. Something that was a little similar to what Tanis' Overgrow was doing, but definitely not as obvious and colourful.
Tanis' features lightened at both of these revelations, as he stopped looking up at his 'window', and looked out in front of himself, where his wing shielded his view. Okay, so something had happened that he doesn't know about which has caused the wordsmith to go out of his way to throw this wing out in front of him to block whatever was on the other side from doing whatever it would do. That is not something that a Pokémon who had a negative intent for his well-being would do. It's selfless, perhaps even bordering childish, but also supportive. The explanation eludes Tanis, but one thing he could work out, was that this Skarmory was not out to get him and seemed to be, at the very least, trying to prevent something from happening that would likely make Tanis act rashly. Ignorance is bliss after all. Even so, the fact he wasn't entirely sure what was even going on and was making this situation happen was rather problematic to say the very least. The dilemma is actually quite straight-forward from his point of view. Not knowing what was going on, and hence react accordingly to it made knowing what to actually do a huge problem. As far as he knew, a Ground type move might be coming their way, and he'd be none the wiser until it struck. At the same time, Tanis has literally just woken up from falling flat on his face, and he knew that. Staying put and within the wing's borders would potentially generate more time to recuperate, should the situation become delayed from the glaring contest that was clearly going on. It was a situation that he hadn't quite worked out what the best course of action would be at this junction, so in spite of Skarmory's worst probable fears, Tanis had awoken, but remained otherwise neutral, if he was still moving around more than the bird wanted him to. He remained behind the wing, blocked from view both inside and out, deliberating what he should do. Since he hadn't come up with an idea of his own, he did arguably the smartest thing that he could potentially do: Which was not to overreact and do something else while thinking about what to do. He similarly didn't say anything besides a couple of grunts and half of a 'what' question as he turned to face the obstructing wing. Perhaps there was some hope for the Grass type yet!
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I personally see it working. I'll get the censor machine! :v
Spent quite a lot of time thinking about this one, I opted for the path of least resistance, and taking a logical approach as far as the wing blocking went. Plus potentially not attacking Oscar later, so there's that too.
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White Dawn
PLAYED BY OOC NAME
PLAYED BY Birb / ALegionofKaw
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Post by Oscar on May 2, 2018 9:30:20 GMT
That was the one question he should've been prepared for, but in all his wits, his brashness and assorted ill-mannered drudgery - it was the last question to cross his mind. It was enough to make him pause, for his posture to loosen despite the curse weighing on his form and every other thing that would warrant him being so rightfully tense. Just like he's made clear earlier, he's got next to nothing to give that would be worth it's weight in insurance. Granted he's got his armor, a series of plates partly forged from keratin, quills that were hardened and honed to a steel point, and a dull coat of feathers underneath it acting as some natural insulation between his fleshy self and the cold metal encasing him. Value is a subjective – finicky thing, yet even then there was a key difference between sentimental value and actual value where the only difference was that however many coins the latter will fetch you. Like any other steel type the Skarmory would've loved to believe his armor was one of a kind – worth it's weight in the brass-like quills it was forged from. That his iron pelt was one of a kind, irreplaceable, something that wasn't worthy of a monetary price because the value it held was something beyond some measly coins. But that wasn't the case, it likely wasn't the case for anybody unless they were some kind of rabid poachers selling the shells of poor mons for a quick buck or two in whatever underground community they'd be forced to sell their robbed wares. So no matter how much he wanted it to be, groomed it to be and prided it to be, his armor wasn't exactly the best bargaining chip to blindly throw onto the table. It's worth was whatever he put into it himself; the likelihood of that notion being mutual was far from none so selling the Grimer on the idea wasn't going to do him any good. Besides, for someone as prideful as that Skarmory, a person who'd gone through the lengths of saving someone for the sake of giving everything that's transpired here some legitimacy – would someone like him give up his garish little suit if even for an hour? That would be stupid, he would have up to spend a good dozen minutes trying to fumble every single plate off of him and that was assuming the poison type was patient enough to sit through the lot of it just so he can have his insurance or what have you. He wasn't giving up his armor, he certainly wasn't going to doff it in front of anybody, which frankly lead him to having no options whatsoever other than making a promise that was more than likely going to be most vow ever sworn by him. He had nothing to give; nothing up until his friend's shining show had reminded him otherwise.
No, he wouldn't, but the idea was there and the idea had already been proposed by that sloppy buffoon. If he wanted to make them feel like he happened to be trustworthy – which all due respects he arguably wasn't – then he could always go through the easy route by gambling some fool's life away after he had more or less sworn to himself to keep that fellow alive. But it wasn't half-bad of a prospect, especially after he's spent the minute staring that Grimer down and trying to keep his brow from slanting into that irrevocable glare. That grimer seemed to like the idea even if they had essentially looped around to where they started, talking about giving things up as the trade for trust. Yet trust was a two way street, they were nothing other than two ruffians who somehow found each other when one of them was on their way out and the other – if he even was that fellow from earlier – had finished chasing around some half-brained bug types. He didn't put much faith in them, the skarmory had no reason to other than the knowing their ultimate goal was of trying to shake people down for all that they're worth for daring to stumble into their territory. Which while it proved to be an inconvenience, it was a goal that was respectable in that he understood it more than whatever that Growlithe was trying to get at after the supposed protector of these woods came barging after him and the grass type spewing flames every which direction in a place that may as well be a maze of fresh tinder. That was over and done with anyways, and maybe if things were going the way he hopes they're going he might just the chance to go back to where she was busy wriggling about and ask the mutt herself. That was assuming the Grimer didn't have any other plans or the Treecko beneath his plumes hadn't cobbled together a scheme after he had felt the slightest ease release from his talons.
Guess he had grown blind to all that bedazzling greens down there because as mentioned before what got his attention was that sudden little shift in the Grass-type's limber weight and the fact he didn't feel something lying dead on his talons for once. How conscious he was, he didn't know, yet all that it would really cost him was a peek under those feathery shields to see just how well he was fairing. Which in hindsight really wasn't all that needed if his ears were keen as his every other sense, anyone who was close as he was could have heard that faintest grumbling of some groggy questions but that would require him to be attentive in more ways than what he felt like his maximum. In a manner that would have had to be most discreet as to not suddenly flail around a sign telling the world that the was trying to plan something, he tilted his head forth to silently his beak just below the very edges of his wings and kept his peering above it. It may look a bit awkward, it felt a bit awkward to move in such an odd manner especially with that sluggishness he imposed upon himself. Yet it was as for as far as he was able to discern; the most subtle way he had of keeping his eyes on the toxic fiend, whispering to the fellow below just what was needed to be said and all the whilst looking like he was trying to lick his own feathers down or something else that looked either menial or akin to a beast's grooming. It might have worked more to actually go about the motions of cleaning himself, but he wasn't going to make that commitment when all he needed to do was to say a thing or two and promptly pull himself together after he's done making himself look like some fastidious fool.
As whilst he wasn't able to piece where exactly he might be, he knew he hadn't slipped away or dared to even flee because that Grimer would've had a bit more of a reaction than giving him the eyes he's always been giving him. So thankfully it seemed the Skarmoy was in the clear, with little though enough time to lay things out for the Treecko and to hopefully ensure things will go the way they need to go. Granted his plan wasn't fully conceived yet, it wasn't thorough nor was it ever going to be. He didn't need to share any of that, he just needed to tell him what he wanted the grass-type to do, what he expected him to do, and what will hopefully lead them to not getting turned into rot like the rest of this forest because one of them happened to be ignorant as to what was happening. What he hoped or at least thought the treecko needed was clarity, and so he provided by keeping his head rung low and speaking into his feathery curtain.
“Once we're done - you're gonna know when we're done”he was quick to spat, his grumbling a pinch away from escaping that whispering tongue. “-then you're going to get up, follow me, do as I speak and once we're done with that you can do whatever you want; I can't be damned to stop you.” He laid it out flat and simple with the scorn his chords as indifferent as they always were, disgruntled in their usual tone. But he knew something that he hoped was mutual or else he wouldn't have spoken because the Treecko was in no place to argue, no place to quarrel or to even go against what he's said. Everything about the reptile seemed like they were nothing short of a simple bop on his dome or kick away from falling back into an unconscious sea, and even if they were tempted to try something than what was he going to do when all that he needed was to rear back his heels to kick the hypothetical traitor. Overall he might not be calling the shots here, though strictly between him and the treecko he certainly felt like he was to some degree. They suffered the worst, they were indebted to him, he had the advantage through typing alone and for all intents and purposes the Treecko was already within his grasp. So with a confidence that may or not further the divide between them, he murmured those barking orders to the fellow between his talons. Neither of them might like it, but for the time being the Skarmory was in charge of their involuntary troop.
Now here's hoping for the sake of both of them that his grassy friend is willing to listen to some hoity-toity bird grousing orders into his ears.
But the whole murmuring, the whole planning was as quick as it started before the Skarmory abruptly perched himself upright laying his maw of his limbs and raising his head to the skies with a flicker of that one billowy quill. His gesture made him look more like a smug idiot than anyone graceful, prancing that one feather about like it was the locks of some gorgeous maiden all the whilst keeping that crimson plume well within the sight of that blubbery thing. It wasn't special, it wasn't even exceptional by the standards of groomed 'mons, but it was part of his armor and something that despite all his melodramatics was still a thing he could still say he prided himself in. And that's why he was able to put on that half-baked facade with a straight face, flail his plume about like some signage then tilted his gaze an angle just off enough that it dangled. It was only worth something to him, but he was trying to sell it like it wasn't. Yet whilst maybe his false was going to be about as effective as anything else he's tried thus far, he's still doing what he needed to be doing and getting himself more time – however long it'll take for the Treecko's head to clear especially after enlightening him to a quarter of what's been happening.
But that wasn't all the Skarmory did, as whilst he may have piped his voice up one too many notches than he should have he still spoke with all the pride off a troubled, foul-mouthed bird was willing to show for someone who may or may not be a wrong jab away from melting the both of them down into sludge. His eyes focused on them, wide and what he thought was free of all that glaring, he had finally spoken his part of the bargain – his insurance for the lout.
“Look. I like my armor; I don't like getting it dirty and I don't like having to repair it every other day.” maybe the grimer's had a tussle with steel-types before, or at-least heard of them, but he wanted to get that point across first and foremost before he went on. “I can't speak for someone who doesn't have any plumes or fur – or whatever to speak of, but I find I look like an idiot without this thing on my head.
Then came the hard part about this whole show. He bent his legs, slouched ever slightly down as he stretched his left wing as wide as it could unfurl without exposing a thousand chinks into it's crude armor before the other one slowly, and carefully went about putting it's razor quills against that one billowy old feather atop of his head. He wasn't looking, he had his eyes solely set on seeing if that grimer was going to try something after he finally slugged around for the first time since he'd put his wing over his friend. If they'll try something, he'll be the first to catch it. He just hopes that wherever his friend is currently lying underneath him that he doesn't accidentally sell the treecko under there as supposed to that feather up here. Which granted, that might just be the case and he's doomed themselves. But there's a reason other than him being as bitter as usual, as why he talked even more than he always does – louder, clearer too.
“So if I take this thing off, and leave it here.” he spoke as he eyed, feeling his longest of feathers scrape against the back of his helmeted head. “I'm going to come back for it, I like having my armor all together and spiffy and not covered in grime. Why? - because I'm like that."
He may or may not regret his last following last words, but he had to leave them on a question - to let him spend his precious seconds pondering over the question he left in his wake.
“Now is that good enough for you?” Oscar inquired, ready to unfasten his freshly glorified locks and ready to slam his other wing down at the slightest impulse. “Because this is the closest thing you'll have to a steel-type's word.”
// The only thing oscar has been good at so far is talking, so he's gonna keep on talking because he likes talking. Talk talk talk. Would've replied yesterday/monday if something hadn't come up, rip.
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Outlaw
| A memory is what makes you who you are! |
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PLAYED BY OOC NAME
PLAYED BY Darkringer
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Post by Tanis on May 6, 2018 21:55:44 GMT
The stand-off between all three Pokémon continued and spanned a good length of time at this junction. The war of words continued between a Pokémon who had a sharp tongue and wasn't afraid to use it, a Pokémon who spoke with a heavy style that was difficult to understand at times, and a Pokémon who only just woke up and hasn't said a coherent word yet. Regardless of the circumstances that had led to the situation as the three Pokémon found themselves in, one thing was for certain: This would likely only ultimately end in one particular way, even if things were to be delayed over its course. There would be no doubt that the Skarmory would find a way to get out of the situation and bring the pair back into the forest and otherwise away from the Grimer, but if the pair wanted to leave, eventually the pair would likely need to fight. Maybe there was a slim chance that he could negotiate an unfair deal to end up with an exit route, one of which being the beat-up Growlithe, but the real question here is not whether she'd make a good bargaining chip, but rather would the Skarmory's own moral code allow him to do it? Another question as a follow-up to that, was whether Tanis himself would go along with it. The answer to that one is still very much in the air, considering he still has no actual idea as to what's even going on in the first place.
That trend continued as he remained stood in place, cradling his left arm with his right. The lull in nothing much happening right away granted him a little reprieve of actual awake-time to try and piece together what little he did actually know and what he bore witness to. Simply put, he had a distinct feeling that he's not in the same precise area that he dropped in. This was largely due to his current positioning, and where he is in relation to the Skarmory. He didn't feel anything at the time of him being carried to wherever 'here' is now, nor is he completely aware of what sort of position he fell in. But what he was eighty-percent sure of, was that he was not underneath the Skarmory. Similarly, he couldn't see the carnage that his Solarbeam caused anywhere around what he can see, not even directly beneath where he's standing. These two matters suggest two things: He's been moved, and likely by the Skarmory for reasons he has yet to learn. Judging by the bird's positioning however, there is a similar chance that, wherever he took them, has led them into another unfortunate situation, likely by the result of someone else interfering if it was anything to go by. Unfortunately, Tanis had no actual clue as to what had transpired or what was even going on. He could see something from the Skarmory, a brush of strength that was flowing through him, not to mention that he appeared as though he was having a spot of trouble moving, or that he seemed to be taking more energy to do something that earlier wasn't taking quite as much to do. It was the indication that a battle had either transpired, or was about to happen. All anyone would have to do is take one look at Tanis and his Overgrow aura to see what sort of effects he needs to see to realize a battle is involved in some manner. As if the burned arm wasn't a good enough sign already...
It was that reason, that he placed the majority of his focus directly in front of himself, or the wing that was slap in front of his view. Although he couldn't see just who was just beyond that wing, he concluded that someone was there at least. Yet the reverse was also true for whoever was on the other side of that wing: They couldn't see him either. This could be just the advantage that the Skarmory maybe hoped for. As the Steel type correctly concluded, he had only just woken up from being made unconscious, it wasn't going to take very much to bring him back down again since he was unassisted for the most part. What he really needs is treatment of some sort, or some time to get some of his energy back. Nonetheless, a being of the wild like him, or so he puts to his own claim, has to be set for this sort of situation, and while he lacks what he needs to make a full recovery, enough to put up a fight again, he could at least do what he can to assist before being taken out of it again. Again, he has to press whatever advantage he can. The fact that he currently cannot be seen, hence what he does is largely unknown to anyone that isn't himself or the Skarmory. Besides, it seemed as though a battle was unfolding, or had unfolded, or was about to, from what he was witnessing. Injured or not, he wasn't going to just step back and let it happen without him! He may just be barely clinging onto consciousness, but if he's able, he'll do it! That's when he made his decision about what to do.
Turning his face back to one with an attitude and primed for a fight, yet mixed in with enough pain to bring down the most stalwart of Pokémon, Tanis hunched down onto the ground. He pressed his left arm against his body, not wanting to get it involved with what he was about to do, but the remaining three paws stuck firmly on the ground, bringing him on all threes. All of his limbs shook with tension and the irreparable scenario he was in: Just how tender his body was right now. He didn't care though, it was clear this Skarmory was shielding him from someone, he needed to get something going before things went downhill and he'd be of no help at all. It took him a few seconds to gather up his inner strength and his mentality to go through with his decision. His own quickness in preparing for attacks being laid flat simply because he was already weakened in spite of his Overgrow boosting him up. Just how well-off he'd be without that ability is anyone's guess in all honesty. It was proving to be so much more of a crutch than even he knew. By the time things advanced around him, he was ready to make his move and prepare something for the uninvited guest he didn't know about. That's when the Skarmory spoke.
Boy, did the bird speak...
To the Skarmory's credit, he did pick up a grace or three from Tanis' thoughts and decisions regarding what little he knew of the situation that he just woke himself up in. His decision, as questionable as it seemed, was to get involved with the potential battle-to-be on the Skarmory's side. Partially because this was the side that he found himself in, but also because the steel type was going to 'a' length to maintain some sort of protection against... Whatever it is that he's been speaking to for who knows how long. So naturally when the Skarmory begun whispering in a hush, speaking about being done about something, Tanis' initial thoughts were potentially tactics discussion or something similar in that regard. Tanis' strategy was literally preparing something unknown, but otherwise it hadn't expanded any more than that. So the bird's insight as to what would be the plan could be invaluable to know with a potential battle breaking out. So he listened. Which unfortunately for the Skarmory, was the worst mistake he could've made at that particular moment. The follow-up to the initial whispering spoke nothing about anything other than running away with their tails between their legs, and following his command without further question. His grounds for doing so were acceptable to think about and consider as far as how the situation was at that precise moment. Was Skarmory the superior Pokémon who could trounce Tanis in an instant considering his condition? Yes, absolutely. Is Tanis horribly outmatched anyway? Indeed he is. But, is Tanis actually aware of either of those things? That's the million dollar question! Judging by the reaction that he gave the Skarmory, the obvious answer would be no. As if the steel type had gone completely insane, Tanis looked up at the whisperer, mouth agape and just general surprise and confusion etched all over his face. Raising his right arm back off the ground so he was back to standing on two again. He wants to run now? And what line of deduction wasn't Tanis a part of that made him the boss all of a sudden?
Away from the inner debating that was going on within the confines of the Skarmory. The Grimer was having a much easier time of it all. The bird's charade to pretend he was preening himself in an attempt to talk to Tanis beneath him didn't ultimately fool the poison type. Although he had no idea what was being said specifically, he had a feeling a plan was being concocted amongst it all, one that he perhaps wouldn't be amiss to not be on the wrong end of if he could help it. Instantly, the Grimer withdraws his arms, soaking them into his body as the constantly flowing sludge melds them within rather nicely. Similar to Tanis' attempts at doing something, it takes a couple of seconds for Grimer to react after performing his deed, though the reason is something different. Whereas Tanis was trying to get something started, the Grimer wanted to pose a warning to the Skarmory, not deliberately attack. He did this by slowly seeping an Acid Spray from within his body, that leaked through his feet(?) and slowly began to eat the ground that surrounded him. What little life that remained directly beneath him fizzled away in an instant as roots turned black, leaves spoiled to a shrivelled brown before blacking and evaporating away. This was a poison attack through and through, and he wanted to demonstrate that he wasn't going to play around with this one any more than he'd have to. Though how much a Poison type attack was going to scare a Steel type is another matter that is a clear sign that the Grimer doesn't run into Steel types that often, if at all.
Fortunately, he didn't have to demonstrate any more.
His showboating ceased immediately to the Skarmory acceptance of the bargain and offering up what ultimately turned out to be his headgear. The 'spray' that left him absorbed back into his body, granting some relief to the ground that survived the onslaught, which wasn't very much beyond what it didn't reach. And a second later, his arms re-emerged as if nothing had even happened to them, returning from the folds to return the Grimer to his full splendour again. Admittedly he knew nothing of the Skarmory line, this being the first time he'd seen one. But it did appear as though that headgear was otherwise a part of him and his body, or that's what it appeared to be at first. If the thing can be removed, then that's most definitely a guarantee, in the Grimer's opinion, that the bird wouldn't willingly leave that behind. Besides, as trashy as it may first appear, it looks well-worn and suited to his tastes, getting something brand new was likely going to take ages to customize to that shape and wear that he's preferred to. Value-wise, it may not be much, but that was fine. He would have something that insured that the Skarmory would be back, that's good enough for him. A couple of seconds of mulling after the idea was pitched was all it took for him to agree with the notion. "Done deal, brah!" And with that, the setup is complete: The Skarmory would leave his helmet armour piece behind while he and Tanis find the Growlithe and bring it back to the Grimer here. He would return the helmet as per the agreement at that point. To the point, no messing, perfect! He was down for that, and it was merely the act of the Skarmory removing it that left the only portion that would bring the current negotiation to a close. Grimer didn't press the matter, or hurry the process up. After all, the Skarmory was perfectly capable of removing his own gear without having sludge-for-brains getting involved in it. He could do of course, but he didn't have to, and didn't do so. It's a partial victory that he's felt has gone his way to the displeasure of the one having to pony up the headgear! What wasn't there to like about it? He'd much rather stand there and let them do all the work for him rather than having to do it himself. Besides, he seemed to pride himself with it and was relatively confident about it, so he felt no need to get involved.
But there was still one matter to address. Which was whether or not Tanis would adhere to the Skarmory's instructions and play nice while he finished off the negotiations. Although he did nothing to contest whatever was actually being talked about, it was nothing more than drivel in comparison to what was said to him directly. The words, the attitude. It was almost like he was treating Tanis in precisely the same manner as the first time they were within a discussion, or he was in a talking mood and Tanis just wanted to punch his beak in. Just when it seemed as though maybe things were just starting to smooth over as well. His anger renewed and his rage began to boil over. His Overgrow aura spun faster and the once gentle wind, while arguably still gentle, resonated in the ears more loudly and much more obviously. Fortunately, he'd be assaulted with that noise for only a couple of seconds, as Tanis darted to the Skarmory's left, away from the wing that was blocking him, and the bird in general, out into the open. His run was particularly awkward with one arm out of commission and left unmoving, not to mention how wonky and slow it was. Clear signs that he probably shouldn't be doing what he's doing. Yet, here he was doing exactly that. He moved a dozen total paces before skidding to a halt and turning back around to face the steel type again. His face told the story: He was not happy at all. Yet in spite of this, he said nothing, unwilling to speak about his grievence and instead deciding to go about it the only other way he knows how. Raising his right arm out in front of him outstretched, the limb shook and would sway in a direction before he returned it to its original position, for it to veer off again. His eyes showed a reluctant willingness to go through with his response to the Skarmory's words. His body was continuously trying to rebel against him, but so far his mind was winning the day.
Tanis still has absolutely no idea what was going on, or why the Skarmory was so eager to run from a fight, and attempt to command him into doing the same. He maybe would've considered doing so, considering his condition, had it been delivered differently. Instead, the pair found themselves in precisely the same situation they were in when they first met, albeit now with Tanis severely injured and the Skarmory in the middle of talking with a Grimer. He didn't even care that there was even a Grimer nearby, the target that he had sought for since he got here, he was much more focused on wanting to deal with the bird's bravado! The Skarmory desired him to go back with him in order to explain the assault on the Growlithe to his superiors, yet when did that suddenly fall through? Nonetheless, the scene that transpired definitely caught the attention of the waiting Grimer, whom found it all quite amusing. He originally thought that the Skarmory was carrying that green Pokémon for food or something similar, what he's bearing witness to is just solidifying what he suspected. Despite the prime opportunity to attack, the Grimer doesn't. Primarily because this was the first time that he'd ever seen two Pokémon he's tolling actually squabble in this manner, but also because he wanted to see how it would pan out, and whether this would change the Skarmory's idea to leaving him behind. It would indirectly change the entire plan and make everything come in full circle, but it would work...
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As much as I wanted to just agree with the idea, I knew that I couldn't do it with how Tanis is speced. Not even getting knocked out is enough to stop him from picking a fight. :v And yes, he is an idiot and doesn't think Oscar is better than him. High drama!
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White Dawn
PLAYED BY OOC NAME
PLAYED BY Birb / ALegionofKaw
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Post by Oscar on May 10, 2018 11:38:05 GMT
Well there he went. As if he was going to hold that Treecko forever – they were going to either leave or ask him to leave sooner or later. He just didn't count on it being the latter given the state they were still in.
He wasn't exactly holding out or betting how long it would've taken for things to go awry, honestly he was a tad hopeful almost blindly so. But for all the faith he was willing to place in this plan, however crudely it was made, however cowardly it was in hindsight. It hadn't ever seem to occur to him that he should of communicated more to the unconscious fellow who he'd been dragging around. Though who could really blame him? He wasn't going to blame himself, no if anyone was the fault of that Bird's blame it would be the fellow who's spent the whole time as an slumbering lump. He had no time to forward his plans to them, no time to soothe everything over when he had threatened to knock the fellow off his high tree hadn't they climbed down from there – which they eventually did, but not without taking a terrible tumble and practically turning them against each other well before they could have their happy greetings and flowery introductions. Perhaps if they started on better grounds that weren't him threatening the fellow, maybe if they had taken the time – however little they may have – to have exchanged their names and laid their intentions clear for each other then in all likelyhood they might not even be in a place like this. Like maybe they'd work better as a cohesive, albeit struggling unit. Though if anything were to come of this then it would at-least curb the Skarmory's expectations of the grass type for the better, and for the immediate worse. Granted he approved of the former because it meant someone new to start spiting, though the latter still stung as terribly as it did by throwing a brand new problem into his hands. Which granted the problem wasn't all that new - he was dragging them about beforehand, only now it happened to spring legs all of whom were likely to kick his beaked face in. What ever may come – if anything might come of this poorly-handled misconception, then the Skarmory probably deserved what's likely to be coming for him.
He was as much in the wrong as he personally thought that he wasn't in the wrong, and whilst his attitude could certainly need it – he wasn't going to be easily enlightened. How exactly he was going to go about doing his plans without enraging that grassy fellow all the whilst refuting the irrefutable he didn't know, nor did it seem primed for success under any sort of scrutiny that wasn't his skewed own. But the way he'd eventually go about trying to repair things and trying to keep them on the same page was as crass he'd made himself out to be, so it was safe to say nothing was really going to change unless he had the wit to slap some sense into himself before dared to bring about his own undoing with an attitude he couldn't quite rid himself of. Obviously it wasn't going to be the end of him – funnily enough he carried himself like as if he was about as willing to trust that Grimer as he did that Treecko, but he'd need to have been awfully short-sighted or maybe even cowardly to abandon his unheard pledge without trying to save the bridges he only had himself to blame for setting ablaze.
But before he'd get to talking to the fellow who'd just scurried away from him at a pace too blisteringly fast for him to even bother trying to keep in there, he had to make sure that the other party in this deal wasn't trying anything. Which given that he wasn't exactly acting discreet they had all the right to act as apprehensive as they were– he could have sworn they were primed for attack though they didn't exactly have much posture for him to read and assume otherwise. Though with how things looked and how things went about blowing over, for the little he was able to pry from that amorphous grin it seemed like they were honestly on board and primed to strike not him but the deal before everything had been flushed down the proverbial gutter alongside that scampering treecko. Yet they were at ease, that poison slob actually seemed to take amusement in his troubles. That alone would normally be enough to garner the skarmory's contempt, he'd be about as battle-thirsty as the grass-type was if he wasn't so conscious already. But he knew, or at-least tried to keep a level head for the time being. Because the last thing he'd really want after his plans were effectively jeopardized was for him to do something even worse than that Treecko and to completely undo the everything else he may have had ready up his sleeves.
Unlike the treecko who had stricken him as a stubborn battle-starved individual who couldn't solve things aside from beating them to a pulp. (Which in hindsight he wasn't much different) But where Oscar lacked a sense of pride other than what he put in his work, his armor and his sense of superiority, he had self-preservation. Either that or he was cowardly. Maybe he was too daunted by a bucket of sludge despite having been specifically sent here to hunt fiends like him, possessing an advantage that came with typing and numbers. Were things different he'd be ready to pummel this thing down as much as that wounded warrior looked to be, but it wasn't so simple – it wasn't ever going to be simple. Forces that were outside of their control felt it necessary to bruise them, to nearly poison them and to scorch the both of them before they could really work out any plan or even introduce eachother's names aside from what childish insults he felt like labeling the treecko with. As it would turn out insulting somebody when you're supposed to be cooperating with that somebody wasn't the most wisest decision he's made, though given all that's happened today it might not even rank among the worst after what's yet to come of this. But at the very minimum the other party looked to have taken it as well as he'd expect any scoundrel to take it by making a fool of him not through any sort of words, not some games, not threats - nothing like that other than a show of visible satisfaction that seemed smeared all over that grimer's sloppy face. Frankly it wouldn't be the most egregious look he's ever been subjected to, it'd likely be reserved for something that was a wee bit more wicked than some pile of wretched slot. Nonetheless it didn't help, it made things all the bit more annoying though a simple hawkish look was never going to be enough to make someone like him crack under the weight of it.
He had backbone, enough backbone to accept a deal if it meant taking his honor and smashing into a pulp when it meant ensuring the safety of himself and a stranger who didn't quite seem to like him. He'll give them that at-least, though what he won't allow was for him to squander the deal when he was a simple tug or two away from taking off his plume and getting over with it. There was obviously more to that, there was the part where he had to find his way back then back here again with an a knocked-out renegade or maybe even a conscious one depending on how things might have went if they were even headed that way anymore. Chance are they were all ready to burst into a quarrel, that either one of them going to do something so abundantly crass that it would be bound to attract a lot more attention than just one of those grimers. He may be indecisive, me might just be stalling for time like he was doing earlier. Though what he wanted to do and what he may as well do seeing as his options were beginning to flee him just like his brutish friend, was to both inform and rid himself of his doubts in singular fell swoop.
He may believe it to be clever, but it just made sense. If they were any place other than the one they were stuck into right now he would've surely sat them down, maybe munched on a berry whilst he was doing it, and give them some kind of surface level idea before they'd go ahead with their mission. It likely wouldn't be anything more courteous than discussing some plans over a break at lunch, or maybe bumping into them moments before they were called to task, yet he would if he could and he'd keep the rest of what wasn't necessary for his confidence to hoard. Though the problem there was trying to convey some kind of plan that either didn't make him out to be a bigger thorn than he made himself out to be, and saying it without seeming like they were ready to suddenly jump onto that sludge and beat it into a...well...sludge. The real issue however was the one he was ignoring, the one he believed wouldn't be so much as a problem because everything about that treecko's current person and his current person were eager to whisper the lies of mettle into his steel-plated belligerence. Because why wouldn't someone listen to somebody who's first greeting was poorly-blanketed threat; who frequently spoke to them with the mouth (or beak) of an infant? Because he wasn't the one who was injured, because he could have easily left to them to molder alongside every other plant in this forest, and because they were indebted to him.
Or so he thought; or so he liked to think. There wasn't anything to really suggest it, nor had he done anything to convey or show his gratitude to him other than squawking orders at him. He just presumed they were right to listen to him, that they had to and they were going to despite his every attempt at it being a good enough reason as to not. Yet what kept his voice clear of aggression and relatively clear of that self-conceited assertiveness was nothing that was for the Treecko's sake, it was for his own as well as that deal. If there was going to be anything left of it after he was done addressing the hasty lizard.
Finally he turned around after being dumbfounded with a look on his face that was as empty as his gaze, trying to keep himself still when the aftermath of what had transpired made him all rickety like he some rotted-out bridge. Composure was still important, and he quickly went about pulling himself back together by taking that wing away from the one plume in his helm then stowing it at his side furled out against him with his blades ever-so wide. He wouldn't exactly call his pose combative, in the case that it was then he'd know to keep one of his wings as far out of him as possible whilst the other stayed as close to him as some crude shield but his form wasn't clearly the case. He kind just cobbled himself together, tried to seem as loose as possible whilst finally moving those talons of his for once, making those clattering and rattlings as he steered himself to where he knew that Treecko to be. Finally settling as he faced them, staring down from his shoulders as he made absolute certain to keep his head in such a way that he could snap back on a whim to see if that Grimer wasn't pulling anything fancy on them.
Because for all the trust he was willing to oblige them with, they were still a criminal, and he need he forget the reason why he was sent in here in the first place despite his priorities changing to preservation as supposed to blindly throwing himself into the throes of battle. As his back was effectively turned on them he had kept his wits about him as the little that was left were corralled together, then marched onto his tongue as a voice his voice as grating as his stride began to speak for his irreverence. And of all things to start off with he had given him a shrug of his shoulders then gestured his bladed feathers at a fool he'd failed to inform.
“What would you have us do?"
It may have come off as more condescending than it wasn't ever supposed to be, he quire frankly never failed to have a certain smugness about him. Though after slouching his head and after easing up his brows, he looked attentive as if that bird was listening for once. And as he continued to rabble his eyes were slowly, though eventually warped from their glare into something of apprehension.
“Because if you're going to try what I think you're going to try then you may as well forget about it right now and save it for when I'm not trying to get you out of here as soundly as a burn-victim could be” He wasn't entirely sure what it meant by that sudden slip, but he went on and talked and talked just like he always had. "But I can tell you I'm definitely not going to stick my neck out for you a second time if feel like you're just going to come over and try to gouge it open."
// Ooof heck. This came out a bit rough but whatever. I'd had gotten to it sooner but my fingers weren't listening. TL;DR: hey joirk you got any brighter ideas?
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Outlaw
| A memory is what makes you who you are! |
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PLAYED BY OOC NAME
PLAYED BY Darkringer
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Post by Tanis on May 15, 2018 14:08:27 GMT
Generating some distance between himself and the abrasive Skarmory was an easy enough feat, even if the task itself was a little more daunting than Tanis first expected it to be. Getting knocked to the ground via an attack is one thing that leaves him more sore than anything else. Being knocked down via being Burned has left his body in a precarious state that leaves nothing to the imagination. He was able to recover his senses enough to be some sort of active third party in the ordeal as it stood, for what little good that would generate. The actual prolonging effects of the Burn that he suffered, minus the impact it has had on his arm, has largely recovered on its own volition, replaced by being unconscious when it was too much to bear. But what he was feeling within himself was not the direct result of a prolonged battle, more than it was a strange heat sensation and a drained feeling from the result of his strength being sapped away, similar in aspect to being poisoned, but obviously from a different effect. His body was weakened severely regardless of the reason behind it all, picking a proper fight so soon minutes after coming to should not be as high on his priority list as he makes it out to be. That said, it is a fact that everyone present is fully privy to, not to mention that it's plainly obvious just by watching Tanis' stance. The obvious is his left arm is simply on his side, unmoving, which is a sharp contrast to the usual position that he adopts when he's ready to take on someone. Yet while his mind is fully prepared to start another tussle, his body is trying to resist it: Shaking, flaking, stuttering. He has lost the sheer focus and steadfast portrayal of a much tougher being by unveiling his current body's weakness. He certainly had the will to keep on going, that much could be admitted. Having the will to do it is one thing, actually being able to do it is another. Quite literally, his Overgrow aura, and the effects it's having within his system, is the core driving force that's stopping him from continuing to be a writhing mess of arms and legs behind Skarmory's wing. Which while having the freedom to move his talons and the rest of himself is a benefit indeed, it has come at a cost.
Which, as the Skarmory shifted to place his attention to Tanis, whom glared at him with as much contempt as he had done to start with. As he had expected, his sudden and aggressive action to generate distance and force the Skarmory to act didn't go unnoticed, as act is exactly what happened. He fully expected the steel type to adopt his own stance in preparation for a fight that Tanis felt was only a matter of time, and not if it would even happen. It was going to happen as far as he was concerned. But the stance the Skarmory implemented was... Curious. It had a sort of effect that looked a little like having his very own sword and shield, so to speak. One wing remained unfurled, but otherwise stuck at his side, ready to be used in an instant. The other wing stuck out a little in front of him, covering up arguably his most vital points that he wouldn't immediately one anyone getting at. With that in consideration, Tanis did have a much better vantage point if he attacked from the original position he was in before he went to create some distance. He didn't put too much thought into that at the time, turning the whole thing into a wasted opportunity. Brash perhaps, but still fairer than most as callous as he may be. He compared his stance with the one that Tanis used when he had a weapon of his own. There are some distinct differences of course, though he did suspect that the bird's armor may give him the benefit of pulling off the 'shield' potion of his stance quite well. That being said, Tanis could see a few very clear holes that he could easily weasel in an attack if the Skarmory remained in that position, that's not to mention that he was so sluggish getting into that position in the first place, it was looking less likely with each passing second that he would be able to stop an attack that Tanis threw at him in time. Openings aside doesn't typically account for very much if you're coated from beak to talon in a full, though flimsy, set of armor. Openings such as them wouldn't make nearly as much of an impact as if that same opening was on Grimer or Tanis himself. That being said, Tanis wasn't fully aware of that point specifically. The amor itself was obvious, anyone with eyes could see his adorned steel plates, but not only did he not know that they are specifically steel in nature, but that there wasn't any actual openings or chinks in the suit unless he actually generated it himself.
Which is what's led to this entire situation, and coincidentally, his lack of an opinion prior to the bird's words. In no uncertain terms, the Skarmory blurted out stuff akin to the plan that he and the Grimer agreed upon moments before Tanis jump-started the whole thing by making his presence known. Not that his arrival was a secret to the Grimer, who knew he was there from the offset, and had an idea he was coming to despite not seeing him. But the center of the whole ordeal that the steel type was keen to hear out of Tanis, was another plan besides the one that's already been concocted. From Tanis' point of view however, he heard some sort of discussion about something that he didn't understand, and seemingly something about an agreement that the other voice was accepting of. The context about it all is just as foreign to him as it was when the Skarmory tried commanding him to do something against his own judgement. Admittedly, he was 'awake' as the deal was being brokered between the two of them, though he was better classed as being 'there' as opposed to being someone who could contribute in any meaningful way, words or otherwise. He could hear something that could be considered speech, but what was being said was restricted to mumblings that he couldn't understand or comprehend at that time as his brain was otherwise preoccupied with his recovery rather than what was going on around him. As a result, he has no idea what was causing the bird so much grief over him seemingly just generating some distance and showing his mirth towards him. How would that have impacted the deal in any manner?
... Unless Tanis was a part of that deal...
Yes, of course! Now it's all starting to make a little sense. Why else would the Skarmory consider treating him like a burn-victim. He likely planned for Tanis to stay behind while he did something or other, to return later. That would leave Tanis under the mercy of the Grimer, doing who knows what to him in the process. That also implied that the Skarmory even planned to return for him at all. His track record for being a peacekeeper, or something resembling someone who would save another from his personality and words alone is practically non-existent as far as Tanis was concerned. If anything, he expected the steel type to be a lot more focused on his own skin rather than the skin of someone else entirely. He didn't know what the angle even was, but he felt as though he had read through the words completely and found the logic that wasn't even there. With Tanis now upright and active, he was no longer a body that could be exchanged without an intermission to incapacitate him again. The Skarmory likely figured out through the Growlithe fight, that he wasn't going to go anywhere he didn't want to without a fight, he would be correct in that assessment. But he was still a Pokémon that could be reasoned with, albeit with more difficulty depending on the circumstances. With the bird's circumstance, it would be an uphill struggle that he had yet to try and scale. He was no closer in getting Tanis on board with his plan, than he was when he finally awoke. Namely, he had failed to detail his plan to him, albeit because it was still ongoing with the Grimer that was nearby, which had left Tanis to try and fill in the gaps on his own. While he successfully managed to put the puzzle pieces together, only a couple of those pieces actually fit where they should be. The rest were simply thrown onto the board to create an entirely different picture than the one that's actually the truth. This, in course, has done two things: It's furthered the rift between the two Pokémon even more than it was originally, and he's no closer to knowing what's actually going on than he was earlier.
The Skarmory had tried to keep things as neutral and collected as he could, inspiring to the idea that he still had some resemblance of control over Tanis and the situation that had transpired since he encountered the Grimer. He definitely would've had a much better time at this if Tanis remained largely unconscious and unresponsive, less-so than he currently is at least. As it was, the whole thing has completely derailed, and the focus has been placed upon him. The deal seemingly forgotten in favour to listening into whatever Tanis had planned about the whole thing. Unfortunately for the Skarmory however, he hasn't put a single thought into anything concerning a deal or idea about the Grimer situation in any way. In actuality, he didn't know who was there in the first place, he knew there was someone there, but who it was, he didn't know. It was an obvious matter of just turning his head to find out, but he felt no need to doing so, as his core grievance is directly in front of him. It's the Skarmory that Tanis was having a problem with, and not whatever was going on with the Grimer. Regardless, the bird appeared to be fully aware of what he was thinking of doing, and urged him to stop, no through showing force or making himself seem dominant, which wouldn't be too tough given Tanis' condition, but once again put through his words. At this point, the Skarmory could've spoken an entire treatise about peace and prosperity to him, and it wouldn't have made a lick of difference to Tanis' demeanour. Every syllable that passed through that beak only strengthened the idea that poured into his head, his right paw clenching with each passing second until it was a balled fist. The tension on his body brought new waves of pain, primarily on his left arm, but not just his arm, making him feel pains in his muscles that he wasn't aware was even there before. His glare at the bird only intensified as his paw clenched. By the time the Skarmory finished saying his piece, Tanis was only a single step away from literally leaping and clobbering him into the middle of next week, as effective as punching a suit of armor is. Technically, the steel type is right, attacking him wouldn't be a good idea in any way and not help the situation at all. But it wouldn't stop it from making Tanis feel good afterwards! It would finally place a callous smile on the confused and angry face on someone who needed just one excuse to strike, if that excuse was even a requirement at that point.
For all of the reasons already explored, Tanis didn't feel it necessary to humour the Skarmory with any sort of response. Besides, what he was considering doing should be a good enough answer in and of itself. And if it was to be any sort of indication, it would be sufficient to tell him what he thought of any sort of deal, whatever it was. His feelings would end up getting short-lived however, as there was, despite popular belief, a third Pokémon that was involved in the proceedings. Unbeknownst to Tanis, the Grimer had taken the opportunity for the attention to be removed from him, if just temporarily, to sludge closer to the stand-off scene between the pair. Though he got closer, he didn't completely approach the two Pokémon. He remained at least eight feet away from actually standing next to either one of them, but that was simply because what he had planned didn't specifically require him to be any closer than that. With the distance closed, and his face broadening a smile, but no other real change of emotion, not even anger, the Grimer retracted his right arm, soaking the limb back into his body for a second time. With a forced motion, he brought the right side of his body out, as if he had just thrown something, though instead of an item or a blob of stuff that could cause grievous harm, Grimer instead sent out his arm again, somehow extending its reach like a solid line of sludge protruding from his body and extending far beyond what his arm looked like it could originally reach. The stub that vaguely could be considered as a serviceable arm, stretched and thinned throughout its entire journey of eight feet, not once slowing its projection, but continuously dripping fresh slughe from its form to sizzle against the ground that had so far been spared its tyranny. The arm made a direct beeline for Tanis, whom was none the wiser of its arrival considering his lack of attention to the third Pokémon.
In fact, so out of his place as to focusing on just one particular item of interest, that being the Skarmory, he didn't even realize the sludge arm was coming his way until it reached him. He didn't even have the luxury to turn on his own volition as the sludge hand that was attached to the end of the pole-arm contacts him cleanly on his neck. He had just enough time for sudden shock and surprised to deign his facial features before the force of its impact rocked him to fall to his right. The arm followed on his partway descent, but otherwise stopped him from going down completely. This was because the purpose of this entire act wasn't to topple him to the ground like that, but as Tanis would quickly realize to his discredit, it was to draw him to the Grimer himself! Forced back upright, his body scratched against the dying grass as it was propelled back towards the Grimer along with the Grimer's arm that retracted back into his body. Just how much of a reach does that guy have? Through the combination of being surprised, alongside the overall state of his own body, Tanis had no choice but to go along for the ride as the distance between him and the Grimer closed to the point of being virtually face to face. His perspiration mixed in with the Grimer's sludge, and as the seconds within his grip extended, small purple streaks of 'water' begun dripping down his body, sizzling a touch as it went. Tanis had virtually no time to physically react to suddenly being directly in front of the Grimer. Yet it was the Grimer that broke the silence, speaking directly to him for the first time since he arrived with the Skarmory. "Chill out, brah." Although his method was questionable to say the very least, the Grimer wasn't inclined to want a fight all of a sudden without an appropriate cause, a cause of which he had not seen, or heard. The Grimer's smile didn't fade from the sludgy mess that could be called a face, and his tone was calm and generally as chill as the words he directed to Tanis. Tanis, in turn, did nothing but stare shocked at the sudden interchange and focus he was forced to make, over the three seconds that he'd spent in front of the Grimer within his grasp. The Grimer's grip was completely different to Tanis', in that he was using his sludge to cup him in place with enough flow to make a small whirlpool if he so wished. It was a unique experience that made his neck feel like he was against a liquid-based saw blade.
After those few seconds however, the Grimer cast Tanis aside, pushing him away and letting him go to the Grimer's own side, which effectively took the Treecko further away from the Skarmory. The travel distance was only a few feet for an unforceful lob in that direction that held no other meaning than to suggest he'd done his part to calm the situation. This left Tanis to scrape along the floor until he skidded to a stop on his right side. His tails and legs fell limp as his travelling ended, and Tanis was nothing more than an audience member at that particular moment. In large part because the tension that he had generated between the Skarmory and himself had immediately diffused due to the Grimer's intervention, but he was left in pain and generally in huge disbelieve and conflicted about what had just happened. Fortunately still conscious, but was doing little more than lay on the ground watching the Grimer that's nearest to him. Tanis hadn't yet processed the ordeal, which granted both Grimer and the Skarmory a point in time in which he wouldn't intervene. A perfect opportunity to finalize the deal before he could potentially ruin it any more than he had already done. Fortunately for the Skarmory, the Grimer seemed willing enough to let the transgression slide, in large part because he wasn't the one who was in Tanis' mirth, but also because he was finding the scene highly amusing. But since the focus went off him, he had to fix it. The Grimer turned back to the Skarmory, now closer than he was originally, but approaching no further. "Now. Da gear, RSVP." He didn't have a problem with them bickering or fighting, he wasn't going to get in their way. But he ultimately wanted the collateral from the steel type before they actually did that. After he got it, they were free to do what they wished to do, just so long as they didn't mind an audience overseeing it. At least he was trying to be civil about it.
... Perhaps silencing Tanis was of benefit, if only temporarily.
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I did start thinking about an idea to pursue, but I ultimately decided against it because Tanis doesn't know about it. So instead opted for an intervention. :v Sticky fingers!
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