Post by peach on Dec 5, 2012 22:29:19 GMT -5
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[/td][td][atrb=Valign, bottom][style=background-color:cfcfcf; width:60; height:60;][/div][/td][td][atrb=Valign, bottom][/style]
[/td][td][atrb=Valign, bottom][style=background-color:cfcfcf; width:130; height:130; text-transform: lowercase; letter-spacing:2; font-family:georgia; overflow:auto; padding:15; color:000000; font-size:10; line-height: 10px; font-style:italic; text-align:right;]... just like me.Nascour Fan Art.
-- By Peach.[/div][/td][/tr][/table]
“The only decent pokemon is a bit of a freak. It seems to have some problem with its err… pigmentation.”
“Elaborate.” Nascour hissed, lifting a hand to place it on the exhibit’s glass pane.
“It’s…”
“It’s white.”
“Albino, sir.”
“A freak, you said?”
“Y-yes… I meant to…” The man does not finish his statement. Across the distance between them a slender, pale arm whips, a blow across the jaw acting as punctuation – and period – to the man’s sentence. “Turn off the security system, and the irrigation system in case of a fire.”
“S-sir, why?”
“Do you really want an answer?”
The scientist hurries to the main console in the research lab, attempting to access the system and do as he’s told before getting attacked again or, for worse, killed. Meanwhile, Nascour returns his gaze to the pokemon on the other side of the reinforced glass cage. It shifts, one of its nine tails allowing an open, red eye to regard the cipher official. A shiver makes Nascour subconsciously reexamine his pose, straighten, and take a step back. “Sneaky.” Behind him, the psychic pokemon materializes with the same ease with which it hovered above the tiled, blood stained floor. The psychic type chose to ignore the carnage around its master, the bodies torn from claws which he recognized as Alexis’ own.
A while, pale fist tightens and Sneaky understands. Psionic energy reaches across the room and resonates against the glass, allowing it to break in earnest and fall like a silk curtain pulled. “Well, will you curse your redeemer, your messiah?” Nascour speaks to the pale, albino Ninetales with her pale, blue tipped tails and its pale, scarlet eyes. The pokemon stands in a flurry of tails and fur while the short wisp of a tired flame escapes its nostrils. “What is your name?” The proud pokemon sits on its hind quarter, nodding its head if answering with the gesture. In turn, Nascour responds. “Leora? Very well.”
Extending his hand to the side the cipher official seems to reach into thin air. Sneaky’s eyes flare with power and energy and, a moment later, pokeballs materialize and hover. Soon, a simple white and red orb is within the hand that Nascour would stretch towards the Ninetales. Yet, a frown dresses the man’s lips as he reconsiders his offer. “No, not this.” Turning, he reaches for a premier ball floating amidst the rest while returning the normal pokeball befoe they vanished again. The man reached out his hand and showed the white, red-rimmed pokeball to the fox pokemon. Irony, and the silent respect of mutual recognition and empathy defined his choice; a white pokeball, for a white fox.
The man smiled a bitter smile, a flash of red light tinting his eyes in the same hue of pale scarlet as the fox’s. Behind him, the psychic type seems to smile when Nascour asks:
“She's just like me, isn't she?”
coded by electric
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