|
|
Post by Mirun N. O'Hannegan on May 15, 2015 22:43:14 GMT -5
It was cold and dark in the lab. All the lights, that would usually make it brighter than anything in the land of Dark Ones, were off. The machines hummed softly in their idle state, waiting to be used for the unspeakable horrors that happened in that large room. The metal tables with the leather straps, some of them with chains instead, were still and silent with no screaming victims foaming at the mouth while Mirun tested various substances and weapons on them. The synergies and bottles gathered dust, various plastic tubes lying idle. Usually, the tubes would be used to force food down a patient's throat if they got vicious enough, or their mouth had been stitched shut.
Quiet and lonely. Cold and dark. That was fine. Mirun lay under his desk, curled up in a tight ball as he let out a whimper. He could see the bloody war that claimed everything. His friends, his home. He could see faces he couldn't recognize. He could hear them, their agonizing screams. Mirun felt his heart wench. Every time he opened his eyes he saw the horrible blood-stained bodies in front of him, lying still with their eyes focused on him in a silent plea. Mirun couldn't help them. He wasn't able to, he wasn't strong enough, he was confused, hurt. Who the hell were these kids? They were everywhere, in all of his dreams, at the corner of his eyes.
He screamed and gripped his hair tighter, pulling at the roots. Tears streamed down his face and his head ached so much. He felt as if his brain was going to split in two. That was impossible, of course. His brain wasn't hurting, he knew that. But he didn't care, his medical brain was being ignored by the other parts of him that were, for lack of a better word, broken. He couldn't remember things, he had trouble getting used to anything anymore. His own Pokemon sometimes looked like strangers. The herbs were the only thing keeping him sane. He couldn't live without them, he couldn't function he...
He needed his next dosage. He struggled to get to his elbows, but fell back down. The visions were too bad. How long had be been asleep for this to happen? He didn't get too far until something dragged him out from under the table. Mirun screamed and claws at the cool tiles, but he wasn't any match for the dragon. It took a good five minutes for Mirun to calm down, a whimpering mass that had been placed against a filing cabinet. Mozart watched him with weary eyes and turned back to the concoction of herbs Mirun used. The dragon stared at them before he attempted to mix them up as carefully as possible. He had watched Mirun do it countless times. Athena assisted and Persephone waited to heat them up just enough so they would go down easy.
Mirun had all but curled up into himself, whimpering loudly in pain and in horror. He couldn't make the visions stop. He struggled when Mozart tried to force him to eat the herbs. No, no that wasn't right, they had to be a liquid or compressed. Mirun didn't complain, he greedily shoved the herbs in his mouth after he recognized the scent. It would help, it had to help. This was why he was here, doing this work, it was the only thing that helped. Whimpering and shivering all over, Mirun crawled back under the desk and curled into a tight ball, waiting for the medicine to kick in. Mozart leaned back and gave the small Pokemon a look. They had done well. Apollo even put the bags away. Persephone curled up into Mirun's arms and heated up her body. In pain and still shaking, Mirun wrapped his arms around her and tried to let her warmth ground him back in reality. He needed the herbs to kick in. He needed them to recover. There was no way he could live like this. |
|
|
|
Post by Neronia on May 15, 2015 23:07:30 GMT -5
T he Deathly Hallow... Oh, how long it had been since he had graced the massive tree with his glorious presence! Really, he hadn't even bothered visiting the Deathly Hallow ever since his release from the claws of his scientific fathers and mothers. Ah, of course, there was the little detail that they all perished as the laboratory's roofing and all the dirt and rock above it caved in as they took a large hit from the large tree rapidly growing from the ground. He took his sweet time strolling throughout the tree trunk, heading deeper and deeper after making multiple stops to swipe from unsuspecting street vendors or to kick the homeless out of his path. Ah, well, the giant four-winged bat glaring at the world from behind him probably helped get rid of most of the civilians blocking his path. Had he not been, well, him, he probably would have done the same.
Deeper and deeper he went, aimlessly navigating and losing himself in the interior structure of the tree-bound capital city. He paused just before a large door, tilting his head to the side as he pressed his pointed ear against the wooden surface. Was that... crying? A twisted smile curled on his lips as he snapped his fingers, taking a step away from the door. The knob turned, swinging open before a dark form darted out and merged with his shadow. "Think you can fit?" He strode through with his head held high, flicking a lock of long pink hair over his shoulder. The Crobat tucked its wings and dived through the door, poorly trying to fit indoors and fly at the same time. The bat let out a slight chatter before the effeminate gijinka cut him off, "oh, stop being a baby."
He followed the sound of the crying and whimpering, ignoring the bat as it knocked over anything on the walls with its wings. They would clean it up later... Not. The doors he passed led into larger rooms, some offices, and nothing really interesting. When he entered the room with the source of the pathetic noises of distress, he would admit that he did not enjoy what he saw. He thought he had seen the last of laboratories, and here he had willingly walked into one. In his defense, he was more interested in the crying than anything else. Ignoring the Pokemon within the room, he strode over to the table that a blond man had crawled underneath. He crouched down, tucking the excess material of his rather... odd clothing choice underneath his thighs.
"Yo, old man." He reached out with a pale, slender finger, poking at the blond's head. "You really shouldn't cry without my permission. It's much more fulfilling when you're crying out for forgiveness." That smile stretched across his rounded face, flashing the sharp canines that poked out from the rest of the teeth.
ooc: this is definitely how you approach someone who is having a mental breakdown. |
|
|
|
Post by Mirun N. O'Hannegan on May 16, 2015 11:32:25 GMT -5
Mozart had learned to take kindly to those that entered the lab, especially if they were here to provide Mirun with a job and more of the herbs as reward, but that didn't mean he had to be nice. The dragon let out a low growl at every newcomer to the room, but stayed where he stood. He knew not to touch Mirun right after he took the medication, it was vital that he- and the stranger touched him. Lovely.
Mirun let out a blood curdling scream and curled up tighter, almost suffocating Persephone. He opened his eyes at the voice, panting and swallowing saliva that wasn't there. His throat was dry and scratchy, he wouldn't be able to talk very loud after this. He blinked several times, letting the figure of the person swim in and out of view, but he didn't see the stranger, all he saw were the two bloody teenagers behind him, reaching out in silent screams. "Their still here," Mirun whimpered as he curled up again. "Their still here." Persephone whined and clawed at his arms, trying to find a way to warm him up, but Mirun was curled up too tight.
Twitching and already having forgotten the scream and what he said, Mirun tried to hold up one finger but his hand kept curling back into a fist. "Give me a minute," he mumbled, whimpering after, his eyes squeezed shut to block out the images. "It will kick in soon." Athena jumped onto the table and peered down at the stranger, sniffing. This guy smelled like a Pokemon. She tightened her little bunny fist and puffed out her fur, but Apollo shook his head from his perch. A fight wouldn't be good, not in the lab. Mirun would be furious once he was back to normal.
Without warning, Mirun flew to his elbows and coughed out. The herbs always kicked in suddenly, without any sort of warning. It wasn't a gradual change, but all at once Mirun could recognize his surroundings and tell reality from hallucinations of the mind. That didn't mean he was stable, but he was getting there. Mozart, feeling as if Mirun had enough time under the table, reached under and pulled him out again. Mirun screeched and clawed at the floor once more. He was set down in one of the chairs, where the man wasted no time in bringing his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around them. He placed his chin on top of his knees and watched things that weren't there in a silent horror, slowly they began to fade. They always did. His finger twitched in the direction of where he hid his pistol, but thought better of it. After the visions began to slowly fade, he would be better.
"Apollo, can you turn on the lights please?" Mirun whispered, his voice already hoarse. The Rufflet took off from his perch and flipped one light switch, turning on only a few lights. It offered a dimness to the room, enough for Mirun to make out everyone. Now, who was this stranger? A hallucination? They weren't fading. Mirun jumped at a noise no one else heard and stared at one of the machines as if it would come to life. He kept his eyes on it, before he looked back down at his knees, shaking.
|
|
|
|
Post by Neronia on May 16, 2015 11:50:21 GMT -5
H e had seen quite the display of mental illnesses throughout his years. He watched as his comrades fell to insanity, as the feral beast within took over and destroyed all traces of reason. He had watched as scientists tore out their hair as his fellow inmates played with their minds, casting hallucinations of death and decay of loved ones into their minds. He could only assume this was what was happening to the man on the floor, yet his mind was much weaker than the deteriorating minds of the Dark Ones he had grown accustomed to. The stench of human hung in the air around him and all over the laboratory, a strange scent considering they were in the Dark Ones capital tree. He would have assumed that he would have been torn limb by limb by now, have been tortured and publicly executed... He must have immunity by the Disciples.
The screeches of pain did not bother him in the slightest. The tips of his pointed ears only gave a slight twitch in response to them, and the boy with rosen hair rested his chin in the palm of his hand, his elbow pressed against his knee. "Jeez, you're messed up, old man." He kept his blood red eyes on the blond, finding the display only slightly interesting as the man was caught within the abyss of his own mind. It was a dangerous place, a conscious yet diseased mind. He stood up and took a gliding step back as the dragon stepped forwards, dragging the human out from underneath the table. "You'd think he had been experimenting on himself," the gijinka snickered, glancing over his shoulder at the door he had entered through. The Crobat was now blocking the entire entrance, hanging from the top with its wings folded around it. The bat seemed uninterested with anything going on within the room, and, instead, the Crobat took to grooming itself.
Red eyes fell upon the man once more, arching a thin brow at the display he still put up. "Have you tried yoga?" The Aerodactyl took to poking his nose around the laboratory, touching things he probably shouldn't, running a finger over dusty objects to leave a trail in them, and humming softly to himself. The few lights that turned on didn't deter him, though there was a shift in his heavy shadow. The pink haired gijinka turned on his heels, clasping his hands behind his back. "Are ya better, old man? It's rude to keep a guest waiting, y'know." An uninvited guest at that. |
|
|
|
Post by Mirun N. O'Hannegan on May 16, 2015 12:18:58 GMT -5
Mirun could feel himself slowly coming back to complete reality. He had crossed his legs and held his ankles, staring at the stranger walking around the room, ignoring the fading visions and movements out of the corner of his eyes. "Not as messed up as that outfit. Those shoes with that dress? Please," he mumbled. A smile came to Mozart's lips before it faded. Ah, there it was. The master he knew and loved. The one he had to keep out of trouble was returning from his trip inside insanity. "If you mean trying out ways to stay young, then yes," Mirun responded, tenderly reaching for a coffee cup with a shaking hand. It was empty. He gave a grumble and a glare at it before putting it back on the desk.
He raised an eyebrow at the comment about yoga and took in the man's outfit again. "Have you tried go-go dancing?" He picked up the coffee cup again, repeating the process three times before it finally stuck that it was empty. Athena turned on the coffee machine and waited, taking the cup from Mozart.
"I am," Mirun began, squeezing his eyes shut like he was trying to find the words he needed, "functioning. Yes. Can I help you? If you're here about the stock, then you need to tell bossman that I'm out of poison for weapons." He shook his head. No, no this guy wasn't one of his bosses. The guy that supplied the stock didn't wear clothes like that. At least this one was colorful. "Sorry, foggy... thoughts." He took the coffee cup from Mozart, surprised to see there was coffee in it mixed with his favorite honey. Mirun sipped at it, giving a sort of purr.
"Can I... help you?" That took more effort than it probably should. He looked back at the herbs. Mozart got the dosage on part of them wrong. It would be effective, though. Mirun just wouldn't be able to sleep well. Regardless, the fog that surrounded his brain was lifting. He rapped his fingers against the hot mug and his eyes darted around, landing on the bat. Huh. He spun in the chair until he was facing it. When did that get in here? He forgot about the stranger already.
ooc: I assume he is wearing a dress owo
|
|
|
|
Post by Neronia on May 16, 2015 21:28:34 GMT -5
Oh? Mister old timer was beginning to regain his senses! This would prove far more amusing than his screams and cries of unknown terror and pain. He rather enjoyed such noises, but, as he had stated beforehand, he was much more pleased when he was the cause. There were times when he almost wished he had been infused with some dream-eating Pokemon so he could see what was going on within the minds of others; however, he would then remind himself that being a beast of ancient times was much more fulfilling than a psychic or ghost type. After all, he was more prone to bursts of outrage, and there was a little more excuse to rampage throughout the town on the back of a giant bat.
"Oh, please. Like you could do better in this dank place." He rubbed his index finger and thumb together, grimacing at the dust that had collected on his finger pads. "At least I don't look like something the Meowth dragged in." The rosen haired creature cast a sly glance and smirk towards the man with a diseased brain. A fully coherent what's-his-face was most definitely more entertaining than the prior state he found him in. Perhaps it was worth his time to take a detour after all. Now, let's just hope this played out to his advantage... Whatever that might entail. "You know, old man, the secret to eternal youth is sitting right in front of you." He pointed a slender finger at the dragon and then at himself. "Yoga and go-go dancing--whatever that is--will only get you so far. Try using what is around you rather than waiting for some concoction of herbs to present itself to you."
He strode over to where the stranger sat, wasting no time in pushing himself onto the table. One leg dangled over the edge while the other crossed over the first leg. The palms of his hands pressed against the edge of the table, and his long, pink locks pooled over the surface of the table. He quietly observed the blond with a fang-glinting smirk on his face while the blond fussed over an empty cup. "Weapons? A monster like myself has no desire nor need for man-made weapons when I already am one myself." He let out a soft him, tilting his head to the side as he continued to observe. The man must still be on edge, repeating himself like that. Ah, well, he couldn't blame him. Red eyes lazily followed the man's gaze towards the door where the Crobat was still grooming itself. He let out a short, shrill whistle, causing the bat to perk up and turn its attention towards the occupants within the room. The bat soon lost interest, however, as soon as its master refused to give an order.
"I was merely in the neighborhood," he uncrossed and then crossed his legs again, switching which pale leg was on top. "Though, I was hoping for a bit of... entertainment." The smirk only widened on his face as he returned his eyes to the blond. He left his meaning open ended, never once amending what he said to clarify. "I'm sure a man with so many toys would be able to fulfill such a simple request." |
|
|
|
Post by Mirun N. O'Hannegan on May 16, 2015 21:48:14 GMT -5
Mirun leaned his head back and let out a loud laugh. His throat still hurt and his voice was almost gone from the screaming he had done, but he found the comment about youth... funny. Mozart did not. It took the dragon's fully attention and time to keep Mirun from doing something drastic, like combining his DNA with a Pokemon's. Mirun closed his eyes and felt them pleasantly burn. His muscles ached from the constant tension, and he carefully relaxed them one by one. The more in control he became of his mind, the more relaxed and loose he got. That was a good thing, but it also meant nothing could stop him from possibly pissing someone off.
"I," Mirun said, his voice quiet as he looked back at the bat, "would not make a good Gijinka, but," he spun in his chair again until he faced the kid that decided to plant himself on Mirun's desk, "I can create one. Sadly, that isn't in my job description, so if you are looking for a DNA upgrade or tune-up, you are in the wrong place. Of course, so herbs keep me stable. Youth is gained through my testings, cloning, really. Haven't perfected it." He stared down into the coffee cup. The longer he stared, the more clear his thoughts became. Slowly, his thoughts began to organize themselves and fit into place within his general consciousness. He was hungry, that was the first thing Mirun thought of, then he began to think of what happened before his break down.
He came into the lab on his day off to do something, but what? He couldn't remember. Obviously it wasn't important or he would be doing it. He had no orders, nothing to do. He supposed his employers had enough weapons for the time being, which left Mirun to his own devices in working with the machines and strange chemicals he could create.
Entertainment? "You'll have to take me out to dinner first," Mirun mused. He stood up quickly and placed the cup down. Apollo flipped on the rest of the lights and Mirun began to turn on machines. He knew what he came in here to do now. He needed to make something. He didn't know what, but he wanted to throw things together and see if maybe he could blow something up. It wasn't a real day until something caught fire anyway. "I can entertain a Gijinka in many ways. Torture, pleasure, satisfying curiosity, but you need to give me orders. My job is to take them." He flipped on another machine and began to mix random chemicals. Such a good scientist he was.
"I'm not really kept alive for anything else." He turned around on his heels right before the concoction behind him decided to explode in smoke and bubbles. "So, again, how can I help you?" He grabbed the fire extinguisher and sprayed it on the chemical. At least it stopped bubbling. "That wasn't fire. I don't know what that was. I want to start a fire. Do you want to start a fire?" Now he was rambling. He shook his head and then stared at Mozart. The dragon shook his head. "No fire then." Right. Of course no fire. This was his lab. A fire needed to be in another place. |
|
|
|
Post by Neronia on May 16, 2015 22:14:44 GMT -5
Oh, good. He wasn't the only one who understood his joke. Not even his dear companion uttered even the slightest of snickers. Yet, the full, hearty, yet raspy laugh of the human's was pleasing to his ears, causing them to twitch. "I never said anything about you becoming a gijinka." He switched his legs again, a poor attempt at getting comfortable on a desk. Ah, he was also quite certain that women supposedly did the same to attract attention. He was probably doing that as well. But, really, one leg would begin to fall asleep if left underneath the other for too long. "The essence of eternal youth is written within the genetic code of elves and... most of our ancient race. Try fiddling with that and human dna, and you might just make something close a being whom will be hated by all dermatologists." There was a slight pause before he added on a quick, "And you could possibly isolate a dragon's genetic trait for a long lifespan without having to create a monstrous hybrid."
He sent a flash of a smile towards the Haxorus as he said this.
"Cloning, huh?" How interesting. He was quite certain that his creators were working on that way back when... It was a pity that all of their documents and research had been destroyed during the war. If he had them, he would most certainly share. Oh, that would have been a lovely opportunity to get someone to do his dirty work! Tsk. If only... "Have you tried working with Ditto DNA to see how their cell replication works? Y'know, start out with 'mons and then work you way towards humans. Then again, I'm pretty sure Pokemon are more complex beings, no matter how much your race begs to differ." He let out a soft snicker to himself, keeping his eyes glued to the blond as he got up and began fiddling with machines. He only had to blink once to become accustomed to the full lighting, though he rather wished it was still darker. Ah, well, at least he could get a better look at the man's physical features, rather than just going off of hair color and the smell of body odor and desperation.
A purr rumbled in his throat as his suggestion was met with a response. "Oh, that can be arranged, my dear. There are plenty of restaurants in this dumb tree; I'll even offer to pay the bill." Despite how many snacks he had totally legally obtained on the way here, he was always up for a good meal. Hm, Tauros steak, Miltank tacos, grilled Purrloin... Yes, the foods you find in a land of death can be quite strange to anyone who wasn't raised on it. "Torture, pleasure, and satisfying curiosity? Oh, darling old man, we can do all three, if you want." He brushed his bangs out of his face, his eyes still following the human's movements. "I bet those grumpy Disciples haven't let you play around very much. A tight leash? Puh-lease. They probably haven't even let you play with some of their best creations." The purr continued on his voice, lacing his words. "Have you observed their guard dogs? The monsters born of nosta tuulo' i' mori and beast? All research done centuries before has been destroyed, so of course they haven't. Now's your chance."
He was definitely enjoying his time already, even though the words coming from his mouth were mainly to cure the plaguing boredom that had brought him to the Hallow in the first place. The man even wanted to set fire! Oh, the diseased were always such a hoot. |
|
|
|
Post by Mirun N. O'Hannegan on May 16, 2015 22:41:30 GMT -5
Oh if only he could get his hands on Dark One or Elf DNA, but he wouldn't hurt Mozart. No, he would use another dragon. Mirun smiled at the suggestion though, the grin looked as if it belonged on a Cheshire Cat. His eyes got a wild look and he tossed the glass container into the trash. He was actually surprised when he got it on the first try, usually he would sit there and through individual pieces at the trashcan until he got it. "I would love to get my hands on either of their DNA," Mirun moaned with joy, "but bossman would refuse." His smile faded with the Ditto comment. He had tried everything. Ditto up to Mew DNA he recovered from his home before he wandered the world. Not even the Legends had anything to offer. But maybe, maybe Elder Death could reverse what happened. Mirun would give his blood, his soul, to remember those two kids and bring them back. "I tried everything Pokemon." Now he just needed the power of the Elders.
He smiled again, letting a deep chuckle come from his scratchy throat. "Pokemon are amazing creatures. So complex, so perfect. Humans couldn't achieve that. Gijinka are just a step close to the perfection of Pokemon with the intelligence and capabilities of humans, an almost perfect form. And splices! Even more so. Combining so many powers!" Mirun put a vile down he had picked up and shook his head. "I used to be a professor before all hell broke loose. I know how perfect Pokemon are, how pure they are. If I was more intelligent and not... sick, then perhaps I could use their purity to reach my goal. But that isn't the case." His smile flickered away.
Regardless he turned to look over his shoulder at the man wearing the dress and gave a wink. "How about I take you up on that dinner offer and you can see how tight my leash is." As for the creations, he had never heard of them. He would pry later. If there was something his bosses hid from him, Mirun would find someway to get them to let him... experiment. For the better of the Dark Ones, for the Dark (slightly annoying) Dark Lord, and Elder Death; of course that was the purpose. Mirun was so "loyal" to them. Down with the elves and humans and all. Yeah. "And perhaps you can show me these creatures, I'm very interested." he smiled again, but this time it was sly and curious. His eyes shined in curiosity. Mirun was back, baby. And he felt better than ever, if not hungry. |
|
|
|
Post by Neronia on May 17, 2015 16:13:40 GMT -5
Somebody certainly enjoyed talking about his studies. He remained silent, watching the blond with interest as he rambled on about his previous experiments and the perfection of Pokemon. "I wouldn't call them perfect," the pink haired boy mused, uncrossing his legs so they dangled off of the desk's side. He idly kicked his legs, letting them swing loosely until they needed more momentum. "No being in the world is perfect," says the egotistical hybrid. "Anyone who claims to be perfect is lying, thus why most Pokemon won't even utter a word about perfection. Humans, Elves, even the Dark Ones? They all claim perfection, to be the superior race. No human, Elf, Dark One, or even Arceus Itself can claim perfection. Rocks, however! Rocks are perfect. They just sit there and do nothing without an opinion to give. They don't cause or aid in war, politics, disease, or territory squabbles." Says the rock type. Of course, he was referring to true rocks, not the ones with eyes and arms. Eugh, Geodude creeped him out sometimes.
A professor, huh? That would explain why the Disciples allowed him to work under their 'protection' and supervision. It was a little insight into his past, but now he was more curious as to how the man became mentally ill. Something must have caused it, and he had a hunch it had something to do with the war. Ah, but, perhaps there's more? "They're still here," he claimed. Something of the past! Something of the past! Oh, but what! He would only give himself a headache if he tried to solve a mystery without any clues to go off of. He kicked his legs once more, pointing his toes as he pushed off the desk with the palms of his hands. Standing up, he pulled his hair back with a swift movement, letting it drape behind his shoulders rather than make a mess over his chest.
"Oh, darling," he cooed as he sauntered over to the blond, reaching up and sliding his fingers from one of the man's shoulders, across the back, and to the other shoulder. "If we're going out to eat, you need to get cleaned up and keep that smile on your face. You look pitiful without it." Purring out his words, he ignored the voice in the back of his head telling him to at least get a name or a background check or something. Caution was never something he was good at when it came to his own well being. It didn't matter, anyway. He was getting a date and a little something extra. He let out another shrill whistle, beckoning with his head towards the Crobat. The large purple bat blinked before scooting around a bit, uncertain of where it should go. The Crobat eventually settled for awkwardly flying down the hall to occupy another doorway. |
|
|
|
Post by Mirun N. O'Hannegan on May 17, 2015 18:51:40 GMT -5
"Scientifically and morally speaking, no," Mirun mused as he made sure nothing could catch fire while he was away. "But perfection is in the eye of the beholder." Speaking of perfect, Mirun's lab was a total mess. He couldn't place anything where it belonged. Oh well, that was too bad. He could clean up later. He would be sure not to skip the herbs again, like he said the past million times. Regardless, he would take some with him, just in case any symptoms started back. Mirun idly messed with a microscope. He forgot what he was going to do, then he remembered. Eating, oh right. His mind, while free of symptoms and insanity, was still a bit blurry from the fog.
He felt the hair on the back of his neck rise and goosebumps form under his shirt at the touch. It wasn't that he wasn't expecting it, or, that was exactly it. He almost jumped a foot in the air. Oh right, there was someone in here. Mirun blinked several times, putting everything back together before he gave a bright, playful smile. "Of course, can't take someone as pretty as you out looking like a slob now can I?" he said it jokingly, but moved to one of the many metal closets. Many a night Mirun found himself sleeping in the lab, usually under his desk. Therefor, he had a change of clothes almost everywhere. He would probably have some hidden in the halls if he could get away with it.
A fresh light blue shirt replaced his wrinkled white one, and over that a pale grey sweater. Ah, nice and comfy. He almost cooed at the warmth. He should probably ask for a name from his guy--he would say kid but he learned the hard way that not everyone that looked like a child was in fact a child--but Mirun wanted food and if this person was paying then he would be all for whatever happened next. "Apollo, stay here with the others," he said. The Rufflet seemed to puff out his chest a bit and look at the Buneary and Houndour. They stayed where they were. Only Mozart moved closer to the door, waiting for them to get moving. "So where are we going? And do they have Ducklett stew?" |
|
|
|
Post by Neronia on May 18, 2015 10:32:41 GMT -5
there was something important he felt like he was forgetting as he not-so-secretly watched the man get changed. It definitely wasn't that he had any meetings later on today; he made sure he had a clear schedule before he ever went out to lose himself. It wasn't anything to do with the organization itself, so... what could it be? Oh, that's right. He never carried money on hand. That never stopped him before from eating food at a restaurant. He would just need to make sure that the blond did not ruin any attempts at a free meal. Then again, he always had his ways of getting one without doing too much. I'll just get a certain someone to toy with their minds if my own mind tricks don't work. He rocked back and forth on his heels in impatience as the man got ready.
"I don't know," he hummed out his response, strolling towards the door his Crobat had recently reluctantly left. "I figured a little walk around town couldn't hurt; we can decide along the way." There was nothing wrong with that, and he could plan out whatever he was going to do for a free dinner on the way... Or whenever they got there. It did not matter much to him. After all, he always got what he wanted, even if it meant doing something no other being would do. There was no point in being a 'good little boy' when you were engineered to kill. "And, they probably do. Our kind are known for making a meal out of anything they can get their hands on." He paused just outside the door, turning around on his heels to poke his head back through the door. He held out a small, pale hand, a smirk flashing on his face. "Need me to hold your hand as you cross the street, old man?"
Now, there was an idea. Oh, if only he wasn't bringing that blasted dragon! Talk about a... roadblock. Yes, a roadblock, that was the nicer way of putting it. |
|
|
|
Post by Mirun N. O'Hannegan on May 18, 2015 15:16:35 GMT -5
Mirun smirked and patted Mozart's shoulder. The dragon knew to behave and not interfere with anything unless Mirun's life was at stake, which basically meant every single second. Mirun didn't feel the same and unconsciously made sure he had his wallet with him. The only thing in it was stuff he... borrowed from some of his bosses when they weren't looking. That didn't mean he would pay, he would leave that up to his date. Mirun was a cheap at heart and therefore he hoarded everything. Besides, he might see something he would want for himself.
He took his date's and gave a smile. "I don't know, junior, do you want your boy scout's badge?" Mozart rolled his eyes. The jokes. That was one thing Mozart never missed when Mirun wasn't on his medication. The jokes were painful. Mirun was prepared to follow, he didn't know his way around all that great. Perhaps it was the way most didn't know he was, in fact, the scientist of the Dark Ones and therefore they believed he was free eating. Or the way Mirun had a habit of pissing everyone off. But that was the least likely option to him.
|
|
|
|
Post by Neronia on May 18, 2015 16:41:35 GMT -5
The response was quick from the boy, that same sly smirk still painted on his face. "Oh, I want much more than just the badge," his words slipped out of his mouth like silk, a slight purr rumbling within his throat. He reached out without much of an invitation to grab the man's hand so he could tug him down the hallway. "Come on, darling, our night of adventure awaits~! I'm pretty sure there was some sort of restaurant nearby... There were also some street vendors, but... We should probably avoid those." There wasn't even a pause for a nervous chuckle as he continued on, tightening his hand around the man's so he wouldn't be able to free himself. His jaw could lock, but the joints in his hands could not. He would have to make sure himself that he didn't lose the once-professor in the madness of the city within the tree.
"Good, the sun has already begun to set," he spoke primarily to himself as he pulled open the door to reveal the carved mess of wooden pathways and tunnels. He had to look farther up the path to note the time of day, glancing up at the orange and red hues smearing across the wood from splits in the tree trunk to provide something close to 'windows' to the outside. Really, though, it looked like someone got a little to carving happy. The rosen haired gijinka continued on after glancing over his shoulder to make sure he hadn't lost the human. He would rather lose the dragon. Despite his shorter legs, he kept a good pace. It was more of a stroll with purpose, slowing down as they passed the tears in the tree trunk to the outside world. While he hated the city, he could not pass up the view as the sun began to slip beyond the horizon, as the sky darkened and stars began to dapple across the sky.
"Ducklett stew, huh?" He mumbled to himself, tearing his eyes away from the outside world so he could scan the signs of crude doors they passed. The cuisine of the Dark Ones literally was cook anything that seemed decently edible, though a lot of it was served rarer than you asked. Their stomachs were stronger than that of a human's, and they didn't have to worry nearly as much for food poisoning unless it was laced with toxic plants. "How about ryparós timés (Grimy Eats)?" He slowed his steps down once more, pointing with his free hand towards a rundown restaurant; then again, most of them were run down. The nicer buildings were closer to the temple or owned by the higher class. "There's also Nkri Kí̱pos (Grey Garden) across the streets." Red eyes turned towards the blond, arching a thin brow in question. |
|
|
|
Post by Mirun N. O'Hannegan on May 18, 2015 16:50:49 GMT -5
Aha, this kid wasn't half bad. Err, not kid, probably a very old but young looking creature. Regardless, Mirun liked the attitude. Then again, he liked most everything if he tried hard enough. He tightened his fingers around the hand and followed obediently, looking around. He had grown accustomed to how run-down everything was, but Mirun hadn't seen much of anything recently. Not the human world or the elven kingdom. He wasn't really allowed out of the borders unless it was for business. That, and he was terrified of running into someone he once knew outside of the Dark Lands. He tried to avoid any painful memories if he could, scared of what would happen if something triggered a nightmare or a hallucination.
"Back when I wasn't... this ill and before the wars," Mirun sighed, "I used to make a pretty good Ducklett stew." He could remember a gathering of some sort back in his former home off of the once known Victory Road. He couldn't remember anything else, but the faces of the ones there screamed in his mind. Mirun forced the memory away. Mirun slowed with his guide and looked around. He hadn't been in this part of the tree before. "I don't know," he mused.
He then smiled, showing his teeth that he somehow managed to keep white even though he was provided with little self-care materials. "I'll let you decide. Anything sounds good." He neglected to mention he hadn't eaten in a few days. His food supplies wasn't really cut short, Mirun just forgot. If anything, he was surprised how incredibly humble his bosses were when it came to giving him food. Mostly fruits from the outside that weren't poisoned with black magic, vegetables that Mirun could eat raw, some nuts and berries, and every now and then some over-cooked meat. He supposed his bosses thought he needed a lot of food to function. Not that Mirun complained, his Pokemon liked to eat the food given, but Mirun was usually too busy working to think about eating.
|
|
