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Post by FRAN FALLONE on Aug 16, 2018 14:33:00 GMT -5
 I'M CONSTANT LIKE THE SEASONS
I'LL NEVER BE FORGOTTEN ― It was overcast. Fran was glad since this was easier on her eyes, especially in the town of Whitestone, where every building was blinding under a beating sun. She leaned over a metal fence on the edge of town, listening to the swaying lake before her. It licked the air with its mist, dampening the woman's hair. She blinked listlessly, allowing herself to get lost in the environment.
This was the second time she found herself back in Whitestone after her journey had started. The only thing bringing her back at this point was her job; she had to touch base from time-to-time.
But the blank canvas of the city let her paint memories across its walls. After all, she grew up here, and no matter how tough a person is, they had a childhood at some point. Fran's was messy and rotten with frustration. And yet not all was sour, so her mind wandered aimlessly to whatever flickering moments of elation it could find.
She remembered her mother. It was a golden afternoon and the yellow streaks of twilight slid through the terrace window. Fran sat in front of a mirror with large bruises on her arm and cheek. She had gotten into another fight with the neighborhood boys. But her mom wasn't upset this time. Instead of chastising Fran about how young ladies should behave, she was calm. Her mom's slender fingers ran through her raven-black hair, separating and twisting it into a beautifully loose braid. She tied it off, and bent herself to be face-to-face with her daughter. The two looked into the mirror. "See, aren't you beautiful?" She would ask, smiling.
Fran shifted back to reality. She could almost hear her mom's voice on the waves. Even if they rarely got along, Fran found herself missing that woman. The fighter thought on where the ghosts of her past went when they weren't with her... |
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Post by Mateo Martinez on Aug 18, 2018 23:48:39 GMT -5
[attr="class","dfbase"] [attr="class","dftop"] [attr="class","dficon"]  [attr="class","dfboxbase"] shark in the water [attr="class","dfbox"] "oi, idjit, stop flying so roughly!" a smack upon the head of his father's dragonite wasn't very pleasant. "i can't read the map--dwoh!?" purposely turning upside down as they flew over the lake of whitestone. the map that was once in his hand no longer existed, falling into said lake and becoming nothing more than soggy paper. "gah!? y-you...you asshole, you did that on purpose dammit!" the male that rode upon the dragon pokemon continued to land a balled fist repetitively downward atop of the dragon-type's head. "i'm gonna turn you into dragon meat!" and as the dragonite flew over the shore toward what looked to be the edge of whitestone. the dragon rider, unaware, had not a clue there would be another. as the dragonite landed, he'd toss the male off of him with a strong wiggle. "gah!" falling upon his bottom, the male would stand with a tightened fist. the female had gone unnoticed by the male and his dragon whom happen to land before FRAN FALLONE. on first look the woman could see before her a mighty dragonite, and a male adorning the following attire: a pair of brown, knee-high combat boots. baggy, black tactical pants were seen tucked into said boots. the dragon rider, for his top wear, possessed a short-sleeved blue open button down shirt; whereas, underneath that said button down, was a white tank top. "honestly, you're an asshole for that and you know it! now we've landed somewhere faraway from the spot, how am i going to find the flower now?! gah, maybe i should've left you at the gym and caught a ride here! get out of here you dick, make sure you meet me at the entrance of whitestone later--don't be late, idjit!" and with a turn of the dragonite's body, he'd purposely smack the male with its mighty wing. holding his face. mateo, exclaiming, would shout, "you asshole! you better pray that i find that flower because if i don't, and without that map, you're gonna be my dinner for the next five days you dragodick!" a large intake of air by the male was taken. afterwards, he'd exhale. taking a handful of his hair within the palm of his right hand, he'd swipe his hands through those short locks to brush the sweat he'd garner from the small--or rather large--argument with his gym pokemon. "honestly, it's like they get disobedient day by day and rebel like children. i can't believe i'm saying this, but whose the adult here at this point, idjit." mateo stated. the six-foot, two-inch male would, then, notice a ravenette haired woman before him. only a few feet away, he'd examine the girl--had she took notice of the scene that occurred before her--with a sudden look of surprise. "gah!?" a twitch of the brow, disfigured maw, and a rosy coloring of his cheeks. he was frozen and unsure as to how he should explain that situation exactly. "a-ah, i hope you didn't see or hear any of that just now!?" of course she did you chuckling idiot, it was practically written all over your face. "y-you see, there was a thing with me and dragondi--nite! me and dragonite, h-haha..." oh boy this was just bad. clearing his throat, mateo could barely see the girl whose face was hidden by the setting sun. trying to block the blinding light with his left hand by using it as some sort of visor, it was inevitable. "god, i can barely see you...the light's freakin' blocking your face." mateo stated upon squinting. though, little did he know, the woman before him was but a familiar soul. [attr="class","sumcreds"]KOJIHIME [Googlefont=Montserrat|Noto Sans|Ubuntu] [newclass=.dfbase]width:320px;[/newclass] [newclass=.dftop]padding:10px;border-top:#2e2e2e 5px solid;background:#ff0033;[/newclass] [newclass=.dficon]width:105px;height:105px;padding:3px;border-left:#fafafa 4px solid;border-top:#fafafa 4px solid;border-right:#2e2e2e 4px solid;border-bottom:#2e2e2e 4px solid;background:#ff6666;[/newclass] [newclass=.dfboxbase]background:#2e2e2e;padding:5px;border-bottom:#ff0033 5px solid[/newclass] [newclass=.dfbox]color:#fcfcfc;text-align:justify;font-family:calibri;font-size:10px;margin:30px 45px;[/newclass] [newclass=.dfbox b]color:#ff6666;font:bold 11px arial;[/newclass] [newclass=.dfbox a]font-family:century gothic;font-size:10px;text-transform:lowercase;color:#6ab2eb!important;[/newclass] [newclass=.dfnotes]height:0px;width:320px;font-family:Ubuntu;font-size:7px;text-align:justify;color:#ffffff;background-color:#2e2e2e;overflow:hidden;transition:500ms;-webkit-transition:500ms;-moz-transition:500ms;[/newclass] [newclass=.dfnotes a]font-family:century gothic;font-size:10px;text-transform:lowercase;color:#fff!important[/newclass] [newclass=.dfbase:hover .dfnotes]height:60px;transition:500ms;-webkit-transition:500ms;-moz-transition:500ms;[/newclass] [newclass=.sumcreds]font-family:Ubuntu;font-size:6pt;color:#000000;text-transform:uppercase;margin-bottom:-150px;[/newclass] |
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Post by FRAN FALLONE on Aug 19, 2018 14:24:22 GMT -5
I'M CONSTANT LIKE THE SEASONS
I'LL NEVER BE FORGOTTEN ― Memories don't last forever. They shine and break open like eggs in the mind, spilling out until they can no long be put back together. Even the strongest of people have fears, and this one was Fran's. She didn't want to forget. She didn't want to be forgotten. She had her reasons. After all, she is the last conduit for her mother's life. Eventually those thoughts too would be lost.
But memories shatter in other ways. For instance; they are interrupted. The waves contorted in an unnatural way, shoving against one another under the airy pressure of beating wings. Fran could hear them approach.
It was difficult to discern the figure before her. At first it looked like a hunchback dragonite, surely an interesting sight to see. But as the beast moved quickly across the waters, the woman could begin to see an individual on the back of the dragon. He looked restless, like a captain fighting a storm.
Soon the figures would land not too far from Fran. Their noise disrupted the calming sound of the waves. No longer could the woman enjoy the music of her lake in peace. Now she had to listen to the bickering of a young man and his dragonite. Obviously the two weren't getting along. She continued to look forward, hoping they would find their destination away from her.
Like an kid and his mom, she thought. Again her mind couldn't shake the motherhood theme. The pokemon rebelled in silence against its trainer, pushing and shoving for the sake of letting that man know he didn't think he was shit. What a troublesome dynamic.
It was just about the time that Fran had started to recognize this voice that the arguing came to a sudden halt. She heard the young man start and address her in a friendly manner. Of course she had heard everything, it wasn't like they were whispering.
She turned. Fran could remember gripping onto that dark hair and shoving it in the dirt. She could feel salty tears dripping onto her forearm, those coked cries ringing through the twilight. He would never become a dragon tamer if he refused to accept the strength he was capable of. If he couldn't, she would push him into the lake and throw all his dragon stuffies after him. Enjoy your watery grave, crybaby.
Apparently when the ghosts of her past weren't with her, they were busy being obnoxious elsewhere until they could find their way back to her. Fran pushed herself off the fencing, stepping toward the young man before her.
"What the fuck," she called out, though her tone was not painted with the harsh colors she wore when usually addressing strangers. It had a rough warmth; like a brick that had been laid out in the sun for too long.
His outfit was different. He had grown taller than her now. He almost looked like a grown-up, if it weren't for that goof-goof face she recognized all too well. Fran wondered if he would remember her as well. She stopped a few feet short of the dragonite and his trainer, one hand gripping her waist casually. "What is the gym leader of fusube doin' in a place like whitestone?" She asked, emerald eyes burning into the boy. |
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Post by Mateo Martinez on Aug 19, 2018 22:40:03 GMT -5
[attr="class","dfbase"] [attr="class","dftop"] [attr="class","dficon"] [attr="class","dfboxbase"] shark in the water [attr="class","dfbox"] "ah?" a sudden eye widened at the sight of ravenette's face. it was like he'd tasted the lingering want of a mother's familiar cooking, a forgotten touch of a mother's love. this feeling was all too surreal when the ravenette's face finally came to light. it was a more, older, maturer version of her, "f...ran..?" he hesitantly spoke, mouth in awe as the dragonite, whom was watching from above, watched intently before departing with curiosity. how long had it been? how far apart did he believe the two to be? a desiring want to say, 'i miss you', was unable to escape his mouth.
psyche. as if that were the case. with a sudden, direct point toward the woman, mateo, without hesitation, exclaimed, "evil!" he called the girl. "what's the spawn of darkrai doing in a place as holy and pure as whitestone!? tainting it probably!" mateo exclaimed, stomping his left foot unto the ground like a child crying due to not having his way. he was infuriated by the brute woman's sudden appearance as he thought about all the times she picked on him. well, guess what missy, he was no longer little! "and the way you talk, blegh! still unattractive as ever--unattractive!!" the aggressive mateo spoke, a repeat of the same word, too, was said for emphasis. arms crossed in tandem with a jeered tone where, simultaneously, a cerulean gaze was directed to the side. no longer did he focus his sights upon the mystery he thought was a beauty.
so much for a reunion, right? this was more of hell for mateo; whereas this situation, he assumed, was heaven in her eyes. her punching did return to her after all. "and who're you to ask me questions, idjit!? i'll have you know i'm here on an important mission--business--trip--thing, that you don't need to pry your grimy nose into!" mateo stepped forward, towering over the female, to deliver her a stern gaze. though, behind those heavy ocean colored eyes, he was secretly quivering with fear. but he couldn't back down now from this brute of a woman--no way! it was payback time for the years of abuse he suffered from this demon.
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Post by FRAN FALLONE on Aug 21, 2018 15:05:36 GMT -5
I'M CONSTANT LIKE THE SEASONS
I'LL NEVER BE FORGOTTEN ― Her memories came cutting to the front of her mind like a hundred ice shards; each unique and cold to the touch. This young little thing playing in the yard adjacent to hers, digging up grass while his grandparents watched from their painted porch. A few passersby would whisper about his family, what he was destined for. He would smile politely and laugh and giggle into the night. It really pissed her off.
He was a weakling and no one was acknowledging it. They only spoke of his father, the greatest dragon tamer in johto. But a child was not their lineage, Fran knew that from experience. Mateo was just some little punk ass crybaby that wanted nothing more than to play with his dragon toys all day. What a piece of trash.
So Fran took care of it. If ihis parents were going to neglect his coweradliness, she would take care of it. So the dark-haired girl broke in the boy in as many ways as she could think of.
His stupid boyish face hadn't changed at all. He still had soft facial features and deep, shining eyes. Mateo may have grown taller, but he was still only pretending to be an adult. The high airs he put on for the woman simply bent around her figure; she could see in his ocean eyes a storm brewing. The waves were dark and shaking. Fran smirked.
"Ya damn right ya rat," she sneered, taking a step closer into the young man, "and apparently I'm here to hand your ass to you. Just like the good old days," she threatened. He even still spoke like a child. Hadn't being the gym leader taught him anything? Maybe he needed a refresher.
Fran stood ground when the young man moved in closer. His height made no difference to her. His tone of voice spoke volumes. No not the melody, but the accompaniment. The fear.
He was still as loud as ever. Fran held her waist with drumming fingers, gazing into Mateo's face with her burning emerald hues. She tilted her head slightly, allowing the length of her black hair to fall off her shoulder. "I don't get it," she started, "who would hire a baby for some important mystery mission?"
She shook her head and shrugged with her whole body. "That just doesn't make sense, does it Mateo?" His name slid out of her mouth like burning lava. The lake laughed with loud crashes. |
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