[crimsen] the future freaks me out

[magenta]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,width: 450px; cellpadding:0; cellspacing:0;,true][atrb=style,width:75%;] The winds are getting cold, especially up in the air, and by the time the Fearow folds his golden wings and swoops down, there's snowflakes in the air. It's still late autumn and yet already it's freezing. At least it'll be warmer in the volcanic caves. Sparrow shivers, happily going back into her Pokeball. In the distance, stormclouds can be seen. They've been visible since a few miles back. Sparrow almost pulled back, but Magenta kept going. There are few reasons she'd brave a potentially life-threatening ice storm, and this is one of them. Yes, friends' birthdays are more important than her own personal well-being, thank you very much. She heads towards the volcanic caves, letting out her Slowbro to help with the process. "Tamina, if you can find them, let me know." The Slowbro nods lazily, then toddles after Magenta. The girl struggles with the weight of the messenger bag over her shoulder, careful not to let it drop. The cargo is precious; getting a bottle of Hoenn wine is nothing to sneeze at when the vinters are now out of business. And there are other things, usually carefully rationed off, that she's been able to acquire. Of course, the information she's gotten from her shows is good, too. But that can't break open on these rocks! She steps deeper into the cave, careful to maintain her traction. It's warm now and she regrets her winter coat. "Hello?" she calls, hoping for an answer.

[atrb=style,width:115px; horizontal-align: center; vertical-align: bottom; padding: 0 3 0 0; border-left: 3px solid;] HOW COME WE'RE SO ALONE? [classy=leo]tags for crimsen, played by 1000 notes betty it's so hard to relate to the whole human race.[/classy] code@lurker | hint, hover.

[newclass=leo]float: left;background: #e6e6e6; color: #333333; text-align: justify; font-size: 11px; font-family: tahoma; overflow: auto; opacity: 0; margin: -206 0 0 0; height: 193px; width: 93; padding: 5px; transition: 0.7s; -moz-transition: 0.7s; -webkit-transition: 0.7s; -o-transition: 0.7s;[/newclass][newclass=leo:hover]transition: 0.7s; -moz-transition: 0.7s; -webkit-transition: 0.7s; -o-transition: 0.7s; opacity: 0.95[/newclass]

[1000]

[rs=2][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=vAlign,top][atrb=width,100] [style=font-family: arial; font-size: 9px; text-align: justify; padding: 5px; line-height: 14px; word-spacing: -1.5px; color: #232323; margin-top: -15px;]This post has 511 words and is tagged for Lou's Magenta.

[style=font-size: 16px; text-align: center; text-transform: lowercase; letter-spacing: 5px; margin-top: 5px;]the sky might fall From the pathways that winded outside into the cold night. A man emerged, his hands in his pockets, casual as ever. There was a certain clarity that overcame him during this time of year. Objectives seemed less impossible, significant others seemed more significant. Everything mattered more and everything deserved his full attention. Around this time of year it wasn't about the big picture, it was about the little things. Making sure everything was going according to plan and making sure there was a plan if there wasn't one already. Everyone coped with aging in their own way. From the caves behind the seasoned trainer came his whole platoon. Katon, Raiton, Suiton, Fuuton, Kouton and Ninton. To the unfamiliar that would have been a charmeleon, raichu, wartortle, pidgeot, steelix and shedinja.Save for Crimsen they all seemed somber and a bit sad. Unbeknownst to Magenta they had all received a serious tongue lashing in regards to their eventual defeat at Ever Grande. Ninton in particular was especially embarrassed and was the target of Crimsen's watchful eye and advanced training. Even more unbeknownst to Magenta was that Crimsen himself had been the most upset of all, but when he noticed Raiton react to sounds of approaching visitors he shrugged off his melancholy and went to meet them head on. It had been weeks since he'd seen Magenta, he couldn't quite say he missed her, but that was only because he'd been so driven by other things lately. He was glad to see her however, and glad she was safe. In her early days as a spy he fought her on it tooth and nail. He eventually gave up on arguing with her when he realized that he could offer her no better solution to help their cause than becoming a spy. For someone so rooted in non-violence, options were limited. "I knew you'd show up eventually, Mags. You've never been one to miss a good party." That was a lie. Magenta missed plenty of good parties but in the days where they were teenagers and attached at the hip it was Crimsen who never missed a good party and Magenta went everywhere he did. The pokemon responded to her presence warmly. They were all well disciplined and knew how to behave around strangers but Magenta was family. They all embraced her and if the young gentleman ever bit the bullet his pokemon would latch onto her for love and care in his place. Hell, his pokemon knew her well enough that years ago she'd been able to suppress Katon from evolving herself with just a hug a few tears some flushed cheeks and some hysterical premonitions. Not "haha" hysterical, more like fearful and paranoid hysterical. He took her into his arms, an honest hug between lifelong friends. He hated small talk so he skipped into the good stuff. Returning all his pokemon save for Fuuton to their pokeballs. "Welcome home. We'll have to save the drinking for when we get back, there's something we have to go do tonight." [/style]

[atrb=vAlign,top] ✲ AMB Tanz by the way, [style=font-family: arial; font-size: 8px; text-align: justify; letter-spacing: 1px; padding: 5px; width: 126px;] [/style]

[magenta]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,width: 450px; cellpadding:0; cellspacing:0;,true][atrb=style,width:75%;] Magenta's always forced herself to be a party sort. In reality she prefers being alone with one or two friends, because large crowds tend to make her feel stifled. She greets the Pokemon best she can, her smile wide, but her attention soon flicks to Crimsen. "Hah, well, I'll have you know I got invited to a cruise with the President himself." She sets the bag down. "I told him, 'No, I believe I have a more important engagement.'" It's a lie. Magenta's not quite that important, but she hopes it'd make Sen smile. She returns the hug, though she has to stand on her tip-toes to reach his shoulders. Then she pulls back, almost reaching for the Hoenn Wine. But he interrupts her. A scowl crosses her face despite her good nature. "What sort of things?" She wasn't planning on this being a business trip. "It shouldn't take too long, should it? And where should I put this anyway?" She gestures at the messenger bag.

[atrb=style,width:115px; horizontal-align: center; vertical-align: bottom; padding: 0 3 0 0; border-left: 3px solid;] HOW COME WE'RE SO ALONE? [classy=leo]tags for crimsen, played by 1000 notes betty it's so hard to relate to the whole human race.[/classy] code@lurker | hint, hover.

[newclass=leo]float: left;background: #e6e6e6; color: #333333; text-align: justify; font-size: 11px; font-family: tahoma; overflow: auto; opacity: 0; margin: -206 0 0 0; height: 193px; width: 93; padding: 5px; transition: 0.7s; -moz-transition: 0.7s; -webkit-transition: 0.7s; -o-transition: 0.7s;[/newclass][newclass=leo:hover]transition: 0.7s; -moz-transition: 0.7s; -webkit-transition: 0.7s; -o-transition: 0.7s; opacity: 0.95[/newclass]

[1000]

[rs=2][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=vAlign,top][atrb=width,100] [style=font-family: arial; font-size: 9px; text-align: justify; padding: 5px; line-height: 14px; word-spacing: -1.5px; color: #232323; margin-top: -15px;]This post has 407 words and is tagged for Lou's Magenta.

[style=font-size: 16px; text-align: center; text-transform: lowercase; letter-spacing: 5px; margin-top: 5px;]the sky might fall Her scowl was adorable. It harkened back to the time when they were kids. It seemed to him that their roles had become reversed now that they were adults. How he remembered it, as kids on Cinnabar he had been more reserved and Delilah was the bold one of the two of them. They both showed up eager to accept their starters and begin their pokemon journey together but Delilah had a life altering epiphany during her first battle and could no longer battle once she made it out the front door. It had been over ten years since that day but he remembered it all pretty clearly. In short it was a two on two battle, in the middle of which Sen's partner began to freak out. They managed to win, but it would be their only victory as a duo, at least in regards to pokemon battles. A silver lining Crimsen sometimes reminded her off was that her official battle record would make her undefeated. He knew she found other joys and loves in life, some of which even involved pokemon and he admired her for finding a new path. Still, it was good to see her scowl, it made him believe that if she learned to control her ability she could one day battle again. "It'll take less than twenty minutes Delilah, I just really have to go do this, and you won't understand unless you come with me." He took the bottle and placed it on the ground and pelted the rocks next it with a pokeball. From it's red glow emerged the shortest of Crimsen's fully evolved pokemon, Doton. He would watch their extra belongings and bring them back to their stuff later. He hoisted himself up atop the large Keen Eye pokemon and offered Magenta his hand to help her up. "Take us up Fuu...." The Pidgeot cawed as it spread and then flapped its wings, lifting the pair into the air and climbing the skies. He never really had to try to hard to get Magenta to do things with him, but as friends he did his best not to exploit that about her. Tonight he would tightrope walk on that line he so carefully danced. As a dancer herself he was sure she would understand. He wasn't about to do anything wrong, or mean... just somewhat reckless and a little dangerous. But mostly just reckless. [/style]

[atrb=vAlign,top] ✲ AMB Tanz by the way, [style=font-family: arial; font-size: 8px; text-align: justify; letter-spacing: 1px; padding: 5px; width: 126px;] [/style]

[magenta]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,width: 450px; cellpadding:0; cellspacing:0;,true][atrb=style,width:75%;] Real names were the game now, but Magenta doesn't open her mouth. Instead she takes his arm and pulls herself atop Fuu. She prefers Sparrow as a mount, but if Sen were to insist, who is Magenta to argue? She wraps her arms around Sen's waist and tries not to stare at the stormheads in the distance. Hopefully the Pidgeot could fly around them.

[atrb=style,width:115px; horizontal-align: center; vertical-align: bottom; padding: 0 3 0 0; border-left: 3px solid;] HOW COME WE'RE SO ALONE? [classy=leo]tags for crimsen, played by 1000 notes betty it's so hard to relate to the whole human race.[/classy] code@lurker | hint, hover.

[newclass=leo]float: left;background: #e6e6e6; color: #333333; text-align: justify; font-size: 11px; font-family: tahoma; overflow: auto; opacity: 0; margin: -206 0 0 0; height: 193px; width: 93; padding: 5px; transition: 0.7s; -moz-transition: 0.7s; -webkit-transition: 0.7s; -o-transition: 0.7s;[/newclass][newclass=leo:hover]transition: 0.7s; -moz-transition: 0.7s; -webkit-transition: 0.7s; -o-transition: 0.7s; opacity: 0.95[/newclass]

[1000]

[rs=2][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=vAlign,top][atrb=width,100] [style=font-family: arial; font-size: 9px; text-align: justify; padding: 5px; line-height: 14px; word-spacing: -1.5px; color: #232323; margin-top: -15px;]This post has 239 words and is tagged for Lou's Magenta.

[style=font-size: 16px; text-align: center; text-transform: lowercase; letter-spacing: 5px; margin-top: 5px;]the sky might fall Birthdays had become so melancholy for the young man. He reflected on what was and used to be instead of what could be. All the botched relationships and unrealized dreams and goals had made him somewhat jaded in regards to success and the war had wiped away those dreams replacing it with new (but still unrealized) goals. As Magenta clutched his waist he was no longer able to ignore her in his thoughts. Botched relationships and unrealized dreams and goals aside, she had been one of the few constants in his life that he didn't consider a bother. She was one he loved dearly and over the decades he'd become so enamored with her that he considered her to be the proverbial light on the tip of his tail, keeping him going. This year he vowed would be different, no longer would he roll with the punches life threw at him. From here on out, he would be the one throwing the punches. Once at an appropriate altitude the young gentleman turned to face his friend. His left hand hooking around her waist and his right hand going to the back of her head. Gently he brought his forehead to hers and smiled at her. Though, at such a close proximity he could only see her nose and mouth. "Thank you for coming out to see me, and thank you for coming up with me." [/style]

[atrb=vAlign,top] ✲ AMB Tanz by the way, [style=font-family: arial; font-size: 8px; text-align: justify; letter-spacing: 1px; padding: 5px; width: 126px;] [/style]

[magenta]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,width: 450px; cellpadding:0; cellspacing:0;,true][atrb=style,width:75%;] Sen, to her, was a brother. It cannot be said that she didn't think of him often, but the thoughts she gave to him were not romantic. "Oh, is he eating regularly?" or "Is he throwing his life away on something stupid?" or "He'd better not be making a fool of himself around girls again." It's easier to worry about him than to worry about herself, because pill capsules tend to take away those fears. She tells him things that aren't quite true so he doesn't ask her questions. She doesn't like giving honest answers. And then he turns and the way he grabs her is far too much like that blond man with the bad breath and that one bald man who would grab her arm and squeeze too tight and-- Her breath catches in her throat and she turns her head. She can't quite speak. She doesn't quite know what to feel. But she knows Sen well enough to know his tendencies, and she knows herself well enough to know... Well. That it wouldn't quite work. Yet she's not sure what to say.

[atrb=style,width:115px; horizontal-align: center; vertical-align: bottom; padding: 0 3 0 0; border-left: 3px solid;] I KNOW THAT SHE'S THE ONLY ONE [classy=leo]tags for crimsen, played by 1000 notes aw fuck it. i'm on fire.[/classy] code@lurker | hint, hover.

[1000]

[rs=2][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=vAlign,top][atrb=width,100] [style=font-family: arial; font-size: 9px; text-align: justify; padding: 5px; line-height: 14px; word-spacing: -1.5px; color: #232323; margin-top: -15px;]This post has 429 words and is tagged for Lou's Magenta.

[style=font-size: 16px; text-align: center; text-transform: lowercase; letter-spacing: 5px; margin-top: 5px;]the sky might fall He exasperated. An intimate moment didn't have to have intimacy in it, at least not in the sexual context. He'd barely even touched the girl before she showed some sign of resisting him. It had been so long since they enjoyed any physical contact beyond introductory hugs for when they hadn't seen each other in months. It seemed the gaps of them not seeing one another were growing larger and larger and he wasn't sure what to do about it. He wasn't sure if he should do anything about it. He fought for his eyes to find hers, to find some reassure that she was okay, that they

[/b] were okay. But he would find none, she wouldn't even look him in the eye.

He figured it was him. Delilah had never been boy-crazy and he imagined his exploits with girls didn't do much to smooth over her impression of him in regards to the opposite sex. Did she think he was putting the moves on her? It hurt him a little to think that she thought so little of him that he would risk their life-long bond over a fling. What hurt him worse though was the thought that his carrying on the way he did with women had made her respond this way to him.

How the hell was he supposed to fix that? It was too late to undue his past, not that he actually would if he had such power. Softly he stroked the feathers on Fuu's back. He didn't get to actually dote and pet his pokemon as often as he liked, something he wanted to work on in the future. "You know what to do Fuu... no heroics." Crimsen's hand found itself resting under Magenta's chin again and he guided her face, her eyes to meet his.

There was a lot he wanted to say, things he wanted to apologize for, unnecessarily knowing her.


"You should know that I love you Delilah." He didn't feel the need to clarify the context of his love. "....Don't wait til I'm gone to tell me that you love me back." He took another deep breath and broke away from her gaze, carefully removing his hold on her and ensuring that they were no longer touching at all.

He could have sworn[/b] he saw her relax a little once they were no longer touching but it was probably just his own insecurities playing tricks on him. Eventually he leaned back and fell off the back of his Pidgeot, several stories in the air.[/div][/style][/td][/tr]


[tr][td][atrb=vAlign,top]

✲ AMB Tanz

by the way,

[style=font-family: arial; font-size: 8px; text-align: justify; letter-spacing: 1px; padding: 5px; width: 126px;]

[/style][/td][/tr][/table][/center]

[magenta]

TW: rape, forced sex trafficking[/color]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,width: 450px; cellpadding:0; cellspacing:0;,true][atrb=style,width:75%;] no nonononono because this is the point where DADDY comes in and drags her away and tells her she'd better not be messing with those boys because she's prices, she's commodities, her weight is valued in the amount of gold her hips can extract and it doesn't matter doesn't matter what she thinks, what she does she is bought and sold like food, eaten without care, devoured until there's nothing left of DELILAH so she has to build up MAGENTA but they'll eat that too won't they and he tries to force her to look at him, to embrace him, and she's reminded that she's expected to touch him and he's falling away but she doesn't see the boy she forced to eat dirt clods after tugging her hair she sees that man, tall and blonde and strong and holding her down and licking up her tears she's shaking now and now that he's gone, she's hell-bent on running. she jumps, but unlike crimsen, there's a body to break her fall. she clings to sparrow's back and the fearow flies, away and out and far-- she doesn't care if she's leaving things behind. if she's settled, she can come back later. but for now she's shaking atop the fearow's back, clinging to her feathers and sobbing uncontrollably as the images flash through her head, one after another after another after another after another-- the first drops of rain come down. lightning flashes over the sea.

[atrb=style,width:115px; horizontal-align: center; vertical-align: bottom; padding: 0 3 0 0; border-left: 3px solid;] LET THE S K Y F A L L [classy=leo]tags for crimsen, played by 1000 notes aw fuck it. i'm on fire.[/classy] code@lurker | hint, hover.

[newclass=leo]float: left;background: #e6e6e6; color: #333333; text-align: justify; font-size: 11px; font-family: tahoma; overflow: auto; opacity: 0; margin: -206 0 0 0; height: 193px; width: 93; padding: 5px; transition: 0.7s; -moz-transition: 0.7s; -webkit-transition: 0.7s; -o-transition: 0.7s;[/newclass][newclass=leo:hover]transition: 0.7s; -moz-transition: 0.7s; -webkit-transition: 0.7s; -o-transition: 0.7s; opacity: 0.95[/newclass]

[1000]

[rs=2][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=vAlign,top][atrb=width,100] [style=font-family: arial; font-size: 9px; text-align: justify; padding: 5px; line-height: 14px; word-spacing: -1.5px; color: #232323; margin-top: -15px;]This post has 462 words and is tagged for Lou's Magenta.

[style=font-size: 16px; text-align: center; text-transform: lowercase; letter-spacing: 5px; margin-top: 5px;]the sky might fall This was the ultimate price of war. The winds almost burned his face as he zipped downward cutting through the air as a falling mass of well dressed meat. His soft smile reserved for Magenta was gone. The kid with the single dimple and zero talent with girls was gone. Sen Tokomaru was gone. This was Crimsen's moment. ....Crimsen's games ...Crimsen's problems and convictions. He was becoming a bigger and bigger name in certain NOX circles and it was only matter of time before the same could be said about the LUX circles. He could see what was on the horizon and his days of moving so freely in Kanto as an unknown were numbered. Eventually someone was going to connect the dots on his ass. Sooner than later he would likely be a wanted man, with a price on his head. The better things went for him the more resources LUX would put into attempting to make him dead. In the coming months he imagined he would see much death and face down the grim reaper himself more than once. Problem was, Crimsen was no killer. Not by design but by choice, by morals. Battling, combat, pain, endurance, competition, all these things he'd lived and breathed most of his life. But to take a life... he wasn't ready. It dawned on him how unlikely it would be for him to walk away from this war in one piece if he was unwilling to take a life, even for the greater good. For all his short-comings and fuck-ups, nothing was ever set in stone. Mistakes could be fixed and if not fixed, countered with hard work and perseverance. Death however, was permanent. It was the one thing you couldn't fix or undue. The permanency of death of what scared Crimsen the most. More so than his morals telling him killing was wrong, there was a hesitation with doing something that he couldn't take back. The lightning patterns danced in the sky off in the distance. It was morbidly beautiful way to die, though he Crimsen supposed he getting a little ahead of himself. His only means to stay alive in a war (or war zone) without taking life would be to invite death into his everyday life. If his life was in danger everyday, he would adapt to the stresses of it and in larger scale situations he could be comfortable in the face of death. His logic was flawed but not hard to understand. Though now, as the ground neared and his life actually DID begin to flash before his eyes, he guessed that there was a small chance he was totally full of shit and he might have just been prematurely going through some mid-life crisis. [/style]

[atrb=vAlign,top] ✲ AMB Tanz by the way, [style=font-family: arial; font-size: 8px; text-align: justify; letter-spacing: 1px; padding: 5px; width: 126px;] [/style]