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About Literature / Hobbyist Member Quarteon01Male/Indonesia Recent Activity
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(Contains: strong language)

     “Good morning! Can I get you anything?”

    “A packet of meatroot, please.”

    The Buizel nodded and turned to the Shinx that was manning the stock right behind the Guild stand. “Meetroots, one packet!” he hollered.

    “Coming!” replied Tor as he quickly took four squishly, dark maroon colored roots and stashed it into a large paper bag before giving it to Logan, who quickly sealed it.

    “Hey, thanks!” the Krokorok grinned widely before she walked away. Next in line was a fidgety looking female Charmeleon. Her eyes darted nervously left and right before they settled on the Buizel. “O-oh? I’ma s’pose the next one is me, then? Or...”

    Logan blinked. “Um, yeah, so... meatroot? Fleshcap?”

    “Them two will do. Yes.” She replied, twiddling her claws nervously.

    The Buizel nodded. “Alright. Meatroot and Fleshcap packet.” he told Tor, who quickly handed the said amount of food ingredient to the Buizel, who quickly handed it to the fire type.

    Grinning brightly, she received the package and whooped. “Thankies!” the fire shouted and darted off to the side. Logan got a quick glimpse of the rough, slightly tatty looking satchel that had the words “EZRA” scratched on the side.

    Her mood changed quickly...” Logan thought, blinking. Shaking his head, he quickly addressed the Garbite that had stood in line. “Hello, how can I help you?”

    Andalusst City’s Guilds have been so busy with the upcoming exploration lately that they had to call some more personnel to assist the Admins and Guild Leaders with preparations, resulting with several of the Guild Stands in the marketplace and the Distribution Centre abandoned. In order to keep things running, the Admins and their helpers tasked several new recruits to man the Food Stands and Spoostone distribution until they get the preparation done. It was quite the hassle, but Logan thought that he could get something done and paid accordingly. He got partnered with a rather odd looking Shinx.

    In a glance, Tor looked like any normal Shinx that had learned to stand on their hind legs and use their front paws as functional hands. On closer inspection, the electric type had some odd quirks that Logan couldn’t really tell. He was taller, much taller than the average Shinx, possessing a really impressive build that Logan hoped to achieve one day. Then, there’s his overall gait. His sharp electric yellow eyes looked far too calculating, as if he was analysing every single situation every single time. He also looked quite guarded around strangers, mostly frowning at them. Frankly, he looked a bit intimidating. Logan wondered how Tor would look like as a Luxio or even a Luxray. He probably will be the largest and scariest looking lion.

    “Hey, do you mind if we switch?” Logan asked when the customers finally dwindled down as it was close to lunch time.

    “Sure.” Tor shrugged, stretching his stiff back. “Why not?”

    The Buizel smiled. “Great. Well, I think we can close–“

    KKKRRRrrrrrrrrrrrrkkkkkk....

    “...oops.” A blush spread across the water type’s cheeks as he patted his empty stomach. “Ahahaha... I guess I shouldn’t have skipped breakfast...” he said sheepishly.

    Tor snorted. “You go and grab something to eat. I’ll guard the stand for now.”

    “Oh, you sure?”

    “Mhmm.” The Shinx nodded. “Don’t worry.  Now go on.”

    “Alright, thanks!” Logan nodded, quickly taking off the white apron he was wearing and left to find something to eat. Tor simply filled in the spot where Logan had stood and leaned on the counter, his eyes darting back and forth the quiet marketplace. Some Pokémon passed through the stand without a second glance. Only a trickle had asked for a meatroot or a fleshcap. Tor guessed that the Guilds should have distributed the food substitutes to almost every citizen in Andalusst by now. After all, they were not the only Guild Stand scattered across the Commercial District.

    “Well, you must be the angriest manchild I have seen... you’re still frowning for no reason.”

    Tor sighed inwardly and turned to the source of the voice. He knew a ‘mon that possessed that kind of snark. “Hello again, Houtarou.”

    “That frown is a good magnet. Keep it up.” The scrawny Luxio cocked his head as he rested his arms on the counter.

    “Just what are you trying to say?” Tor pursed his lips in annoyance.

    Houtarou blinked. “Do you enjoy torturing yourself with sour food? Hmm, well, those creases might become permanent.”

    The Shinx huffed, staring at the Luxio directly into his eyes. “Do you need anything? Anything at all?”

    A sigh escaped Houtarou’s lips. “I suppose.”

    “You suppose?”

    “A packet of fleshcap, thanks.”

    Tor rolled his eyes and took the said mushrooms and bagged them. “Here you go.”

    Arigatou.” was all Houta said before he left, leaving Tor grumbling under his breath. The Shinx eyed the retreating Luxio with a roll of his eyes. For a ‘mon that had barely knew him, he sure have a hell of a mouth. 

    Tor sighed and attempted to school his features as a Chespin came after him. He noted from the grass type’s build and the thickness of the natural armour that the grass type was soon to evolve. Speaking of evolution, his own didn’t seem to come fast enough, much to Tor’s annoyance. Well, no use complaining or brooding it over now. Perhaps he should just let his body work by itself.

    There were a couple more customers before Logan finally returned. “Well, you can go for your lunch now.” He said, sitting on the stool by the stock.

    “Nah,” Tor waved him off. “I’m good. Just had some snack a couple of hours ago.” He shrugged.

    Logan merely nodded before he noticed that a rather large group of ‘mons had gathered in front of the stall. Noticing that the Buizel had stood up, Tor turned around and faced their customers, only to have his face contorted into an unpleasant scowl.

    “Oh, it’s the runt.” The Infernape that stood to the side sneered when he noticed the electric type by the counter.

    “Oh, it’s the stupid ape that got his butt whooped.” Tor shot back in kind. The Flame Pokémon glowered.

    Logan looked between the two, and the evidently large Pokémon behind the Infernape with a frown. “Do you guys... need something?”

    A chuckle escaped the Infernape’s mouth. “Yes, we do need something. I’ll just be nice and ask you to hand the rest of your stock to my... little group. Heheh.”

    Tor folded his arms, now glaring openly. The Infernape’s group is anything but little. “And I’ll just be nice and tell you that you can’t have more than one per ‘mon.” he retorted adamantly.

    “I have about... 15 ‘mons in my group, so why don’t you just hand me your stock of Fleshcaps and we’ll call it even?” the Infernape grinned menacingly. “After all, there should be enough for those poor sods in town.”

    “Sorry.” Tor glared. “Not gonna happen. Now shoo before I kick your sorry ass like last time.”

    Logan blinked, watching the Infernape and some of the ‘mons in the fire type’s gang cringe slightly. So they had faced the Shinx before... wait. A small Shinx defeating a bunch of fully evolved ‘mon.... Tor must be stronger than he had thought.

    The Infernape managed a grin, albeit it looked quite feeble. “I figured you would say that...” he turned to a couple of tough looking ground and rock types; an Excadril and a Rhydon, who cracked their fists in a sort of intimidating way, “that’s why I bring backups. You two, go wild on the runt... I’ll deal with the weasel,” he grinned menacingly at Logan’s way, “while the rest of ya, feel free to raid.”  

    Just like that, chaos erupted.

    Logan jumped out of the way as the Infernape lunged at him, before sending a swipe of Mach Punch to his side. Someone in the crowd screamed as the Buizel managed to dodge just in time before he retaliated with punch to the Infenape’s stomach, sending him staggering a few feet back. His fist glowed with dark red aura of Power-Up Punch.

    “You’ve got some spunk, eh?” the fire type chuckled, rubbing the sore spot on his stomach gingerly. “No holding back then.” His fists were surrounded with flames and began to charge into the Buizel.

    As the crowd parted away, some shouting about calling the Royal Guards, Tor was making a quick work of the two large and bulky Ground types. He wouldn’t be able to use his electric moves, but he wouldn’t need them. Being smaller does have an advantage. The Shinx delivered quick, precision hooks and punches to the Excadrill, and aimed a powerful kick down the Rhydon’s hide while swiftly dodging their attacks. It seems that the Excadrill was the smarter of the two because he backed up while the armoured Pokémon stubbornly kept charging in. Growling, the Rhydon’s forehead drill started to spin and glowed bright with energy. Tor deftly avoided the Horn Drill and Double Kicked the dual Ground/Rock type’s back, sending him stumbling forward as he lost his balance and fell. Noticing the opening, the Excadrill went to utilize Mud Slap. Tor dodged the barrage of sticky mud before taking cover behind the upturned stand that had been knocked over when the fight broke up. His eyes widened when he realized that he had neglected the meat substitute in the fight. Mentally kicking himself, the Shinx crawled towards the ‘mons that had started raiding the meatroots and fleshcaps, but was stopped when a torrent of water suddenly appeared and flushed the remaining members of the gang away. Tor turned to Logan, knowing who had initiated the Surf and gave him a thumbs up. The Buizel didn’t have much time to grin before he had to dodge another Mach Punch from the Infernape, who looked crazed at the moment. The fire monkey was finally smacked back with a swift Aqua Tail. While the gang leader was disoriented from the water type move, Logan quickly went to assist Tor fending off his two opponents. He arrived just in time as the Excadrill charged with a Drill Run, hitting Tor full force. The Shinx was sent flying and crashed into the upturned stall.

    “You okay?” Logan’s arms slipped to the Shinx’s shoulder and helped the Pokémon up. Tor looked really banged up from the super effective attack. He was surprised that the Shinx managed to hold on despite the type disadvantage. Logan had thought that he was done for.

    “H-heh, yeah I’m fine.” Came the wobbly reply as Tor waved the Buizel off. He turned to look at his opponents. The Rhydon looked ready to collapse but was holding on, and the Excadrill wasn’t free from bruises and cuts too. “Mind helping me here?” he finally said. Logan nodded, and the electric type went to whisper.“Take out the Rhyhorn with your Aqua Tail. Make it as if you’re aiming for the Excadrill instead. I’ll deal with the drill mole.”

    When he was sure Logan got his message, Tor pulled himself up and went charging towards the Rhydon. He could see Logan’s tails surrounded with bright water-like energy as he locked on the Excadrill, running a few feet behind Tor. The drill horned ‘mon bent it’s body back, his horn glowing and spinning in an act to intercept the Buizel, while the Excadrill lunged with his drill-like claws enshrouded with energy, ready to strike down his opponent with Slash.

    Just as they were about to hit, Tor exclaimed, “Switch!” and Logan immediately skidded to a stop and whipped his energy charged tail towards the Rhydon. The Aqua Tail blasted the horned Pokémon off his feet, instant knock out. Tor on the other hand had jumped towards the Excadrill  and ultilized Double Kick with the remnant of his strength. The Subterrene Pokémon stumbled back, hissing in pain. But it would seem that he wasn’t done. Growling, he readied another attack with his claw-drills, and was about to skewer Tor through if not for the sudden, high pitched whistle broke through the air.

    Logan heard a curse coming from a certain Infernape. “Damnit! The Royal Guards!” he heard him exclaim through gritted teeth. “Run!”

    Tor slumped to the ground. “Freaking finally.” He breathed.

    As the Excadrill dashed past them, a burly Umbreon decked in black trench coat with a light green patterned scarf –Royal Guard colours– came running with a bunch of ‘mons clad in black and green were chasing after the retreating gang not far from Tor and Logan. The Dark type took a glance at the ruined stand and the clear signs of battle before he shook his head. A frown was marring his face. “Alright, identifications, or I’ll have to arrest you both.”

    Tor and Logan responded with taking their Guild badges from their vest and satchel respectively.

    “That will do.” The black furred canine nodded and turned to a Pansage who had come to his side. He glanced at Tor, who was still lying on the ground, visibly exhausted. “Take them to the Healers.”

    “Yes, sir.” the Grass Type answered before turning to face Tor and Logan. “Come with me– wait... why are you glowing?”

    “Huh?” Logan blinked and turned to look at himself. He was fine, albeit with a few bruises and scratches. No glowy stuff. Then, where did the light come from? Turning to look at his fellow Explorer, he found his answers.

    Tiny particles of light were streaming out of Tor’s body. The Shinx looked at his own form in shock before his face contorted into joy. “Finally!” he half laughed, half whopped as the light intensified, now streaming outwards in a shower of particles.

    “Um... you two better get back.” The Umbreon advised, pulling the Pansage back. Logan took a few steps back as the light intensified. His eyes widened as he saw an evolution process taking place in front of him.

    Tor’s form was completely surrounded with the bright light, which intensified by the second. Before long, Logan and the other two had to avert their gaze away as the evolution particles got too bright for their eyes. He could make out Tor’s hunched form in between his paw digits. The Shinx seemed to grow bigger and taller, but the blinding light made it hard for Logan to discern more. Though, he could hear the soft scream that came out from clenched teeth from the evolving electric type. According to Clyde and his adopted parents, evolution wasn’t a really pleasant experience.

    “Hoo boy, here it comes.” The Umbreon uttered before the light exploded outwards. Logan could feel the energy rippling through his fur for a whole minute before it disappeared. Blinking the lights out of his eyes, the Buizel turned to look at his now evolved errand partner.

    Tor still retained his above average height, standing around four feet eight. A short mess of spiky mane had grew around his head, framing his strong jaw quite nicely. It would seem that the evolution had enhanced his physical build. Logan noted, with wide eyes, that the Luxio had now sported an impressive musculature. Coupled with his height and sharp piercing yellow eyes, Tor now truly look intimidating. He still have the fluff around his neck which he possessed as a Shinx however.

    “Ugh... this is what I hate from evolving...” he heard Tor mutter. The Luxio was wobbling on his feet, seemingly quite disoriented. He blinked and said, “I evolved? Oh, new voice, and sharper fangs... just as I remembered.”

    Indeed, Tor’s voice had gotten a few pitches lower, and his canines were slightly more prominent. Sighing, the Umbreon Guard cleared his throat. “Well, that was unexpected... I think you should sit down for the time being, sir. Evolution is a tricky business.”

    Tor rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I noticed.”

    “Anyway, Fael here will fetch a Healer to look after you two.” The Umbreon continued. “I must check if my boys had caught the street gangs now.” He nodded at the Pansage, who returned the nod with a salute. “Well, best be on our way. Oh, and don’t worry about the mess. I’m sure your Guild will try and cover the expenses...”

    Logan nodded. It does sound possible.

    “Well, I best take my leave. Good day.” Nodding at the three, the Guard went to follow where the rest of the Guards had went to and quickly disappeared within the gathering crowd.

    “Erm, so....” turning around, Logan faced Tor with an odd, excited gleam in his eyes. “How did it feel? Does it hurt? Did you feel a rush of energy? Tell me!”

    Tor could only blink at the Buizel blankly.

    "Wat." 

Errand #12 - Distributions and an Awaited Arrival
Client: Teresa
Errand: #12
Date Issued: November 13, 2014
Date Due: November 18, 2014


-Team Stormfront Evolution Slip x1 Used! Tordon evolved into Luxio!
-Team Stormfront acquired x1 StarCoin!
-Team Aecor acquired x1 StarCoin!


Cameos:
-Houtarou Fueki © Setsuna-Senso
-Ezra the Charmeleon 
© Kingadee

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I was tagged by xDarkThunder 

RULE 1. You can only say Guilty or Innocent.


RULE 2. You are not allowed to explain anything unless someone messages you and asks!

Now, here's what you're supposed to do... And please do not spoil the fun. Copy and paste this into your journal, delete my answers, type in your answers and tag 10 of your friends to answer this.  Then see what happens.

1. Asked someone to marry you?
Innocent

2. Kissed one of your friends?
Innocent

3. Danced on a table in a bar?
Innocent

4. Ever told a lie?
Guilty

5. Had feelings for someone whom you can't have?
Guilty

6. Ever kissed someone of the same sex?
Innocent

7. Kissed a picture?
Innocent

8. Slept in until 5 PM?
Innocent

9. Fallen asleep at work/school?
Innocent

10. Held a snake?
Innocent

11. Been suspended from school?
Innocent

12. Worked at a fast food chain/restaurant?
Innocent

13. Stolen something?
Guilty

14. Been fired from a job?
Innocent

15. Done something you regret
Guilty

16. Laughed until something you were drinking came out of your nose?
Guilty

17. Caught a snowflake on your tongue?
Innocent

18. Kissed in the rain?
Innocent

19. Sat on a roof top?
Innocent

20. Kissed someone you shouldn't?
Innocent

21. Sang in the shower?
Guilty

22. Been pushed into a pool with all your clothes on?
Guilty

23. Shaved your head?
Innocent

24. Slept naked?
...Guilty 

25. Had a boxing MEMBERSHIP?
Innocent

26. Made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry
Innocent

27. Been in a band?
Innocent

28. Shot a gun?
Innocent

29. Donated Blood?
Innocent

30. Eaten alligator meat?
Innocent

31. Eaten cheesecake?
Guilty

32. Still love someone you shouldn't?
Guilty

33. Have/had a tattoo?
Innocent

34. Liked someone, but will never tell who?
Guilty

35. Been too honest?
Guilty

36. Ruined a surprise?
Guilty

37. Ate in a restaurant and got really bloated that you can't walk afterwards?
Innocent

38. Erased someone in your friends list?
Innocent

39. Dressed in a woman's clothes (if you're a guy) or man's clothes (if you're a girl)?
Innocent

40. Joined a pageant?
Innocent

41. Been told that you're handsome or beautiful by someone who totally meant what they said?
Innocent... I guess?

42. Still have communication w/ your ex?
Innocent

43. Cheated on someone?
Guilty

44. Get totally drunk one night and you have an important exam tomorrow morning?
Innocent

45. A total stranger treated you by PAYING your fare?
Innocent

46. Get totally angry that you cried so hard?
Innocent

47. Tried to stay away from someone for their own good?
Guilty

48. Thought about suicide?
Guilty

49. Thought about murder?
Innocent

50. How about Mass Murder?
Innocent

51. Rode in a stranger's vehicle?
Guilty

52. Stalked someone?
Innocent

53. Had a girlfriend/boyfriend
Innocent :p

Tag: None. You may or may not do this... silly thing. Whatever. XD

    Derek weighed his options.

    First, he could decline and spin out a lie on how he and Cael had some training to do. The only problem is, the Honedge would happily agree and make the lie into a reality… oh, and Darius would see through his lie of course. That Blaziken had a really unnerving ability to pass through every sort of falsifications and deceptions. The proof lies from the number of ‘honest’ salesmons that had either received a face full of the front door or a solid kick on their posterior.

    Second, he could just duck out and sneak away when Ardor tried to find him. Then again, the Quilava was an excellent tracker so playing hide and seek wouldn’t be a good idea.

    Third… he could just suck it up and go. Visiting a creepy Stonehenge-like structure in the middle of the night with a lot of ghostly activities around sounds like a piece of cake, right?

    If only Ghost types weren’t so creepy in the first place. Pure Ghost types, mind you.

    So here he was, sitting on the cold, damp grass with a snoozing Honedge lying on his shoulder. His back was stiff from leaning on the monolithic structure for hours. He didn’t know the exact time, but Derek guessed that it was well past midnight. Drawing a long sigh, the Chimchar rubbed his hands together, trying to get some warmth. The temperature around the Honehendge had dropped into uncomfortable levels, but not cold enough to rival Avalodge’s winter climate. Derek had read that whenever a large amount of ghosts gathered in a single place, they tend to make the air around them cold.

    The Honehenge was a hot spot for Ghost Types so there’s no wonder.

    A flicker of light from his peripheral vision caught the Chimchar’s attention. Turning around, he saw five giggling and laughing Litwicks hopping towards the edge of the stone structure. Their ghostly bluish purple flames danced and flickered around as they hopped, bathing the whole clearing in an ominous blue light. Their giggling didn’t help Derek’s nerves in the slightest.  He had been jump scared by a rather mischievous Gastly and a pair of over curious Misdreavuses. He got another shock in his life when a Duskull materialized right behind him, laughing hauntingly when it saw how white Derek’s face had been. These guys didn’t seem to know when to take a break.

     Needless to say, Derek jumped in both fright and surprise when a cold, freezing paw touched his shoulder.

    “GAH!

    “Sorry! Sorry!” the Pokémon quickly exclaimed, bringing his/her paws up. Derek exhaled loudly and gulped, while trying to calm his erratic heartbeat down. The Chimchar quickly identified the unknown ‘mon as a lone, male Buizel a few years older than him. Though, he’s quite short for a Buizel, as he matched Derek in height.

     “Can I help you?” the fire type finally asked, folding his arms around his shoulder.

    The Buizel rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “Yeah... well... you’re on the Guild Errand right?”

    “Yeah...”

    The water type squirmed slightly under Derek’s unblinking gaze. “Well, can I join you for the moment, until the Ghost types appear.” He said the last part quickly.

    Derek blinked. “Oh, huh, well,” he shrugged and then said, “I don’t mind, really.” Honestly, he’s in desperate need of some companion instead of a practically useless Honedge who was blissfully sleeping away.

    A wide, grateful smile stretched across the Buizel’s face. He quickly settled right beside Derek and sat down before he turned to look at the longest Honedge he had ever seen in his life. “Is that one of the–“

    “No, he’s a friend of mine, who was supposed to accompany me in the look-out but he dozed off a few hours ago, out of bordeom.” replied Derek with an annoyed scowl. “Well, I’m Derek by the way. What’s yours?”

     “Logan.” He replied, taking a good look around the Honehenge. “You’re alone then... so, what about those ‘mons over there?”

    Turning his head to the direction that Logan had gestured, where a number of Pokémon were roaming around or conversing with each other. Derek shrugged. “Honehenge is quite huge, so the guild members agreed to divide the whole place into small ‘territories’.” He quoted the air, “So I took this part... and so far, no Ghost types had appeared, at least, not the ‘reborn’ ones if you know what I mean.”

    Logan nodded. “Huh…. So, how long have you been here?”

    “About three hours... I think.”

    Logan blinked. “Three... I see– Look! There!”

    Both Pokémon quickly spun around. Between the two identical stone slabs that stood a few feet from them, wisps of dark energy had gathered and swirled around, forming a dark purplish sphere of pulsing light. Logan quickly stood up and approached the ball tentatively; his arm rose as if to touch it. Before he could take five steps however, the dark energy dissipated into thin air, revealing a stout looking Haunter whose eyes were scrunched up as if in pain.

    “…hello?” the Buizel uttered uncertainly, not sure of how to approach a newly formed Ghost. Hell, the errand files didn’t even specify how to actually greet and calm a newly reborn Pokemon. The Haunter slowly opened its dark brown eyes and took in its surroundings in confusion.

    “W-what? Where...”

    From the voice alone, Derek identified the Gas Pokémon as a male. He quickly went to Logan’s side and offered his hand. “Hey... uh... welcome to Andalusst.” He said lamely, mentally kicking himself for not coming up with a more appropriate greeting.

    “Andalusst?” the Haunter stared at the Chimchar and Buizel duo, eyes furrowing in befuddlement. “But... that cannot be! I’m– I was... I– I was at the mines...” his voice trailed off, before he noticed his own floating claws and his eyes widened. It was as if the gravity of the situation had fell on him and the Haunter let out a bone chilling wail.

    “No… N-No! This cannot be!” Logan looked at the Haunter pityingly as he let out a sob. The ghost type had his claws on his face. “This.. this cannot be...” before he knew it, the Haunter had his claws clasped on Logan’s shoulders while his wide, terrified eyes stared into Logan’s green ones. “Tell me I’m dreaming! If-if not… d-did anyone else appear before me? Tell me!” he demanded. Logan cringed as the claws digged into his arm slightly. “Tell me! Please!”

    Derek was quick to react. “You’re hurting him! Calm down!” he pried the Haunter’s trembling hands off the water type. “Just calm down, take a deep breath, and tell us what you remember.” He said.

    It took a while, but the Ghost type finally settled his sobs into sniffles. He gazed sadly at the two young Pokémon in front of him. “P-perhaps... may I know your names first, lads?”

     “Ah, well, I’m Logan, and this is Derek.”

    The Haunter gave them an awkward sort of bow. Being a ghostly Pokémon with virtually no body, it looked like he was giving them a now. “At your service.... though I-I can’t seem to remember my name...” he trailed off. He shook his head and wiped his eyes.

     “Okay,well...” Derek coughed. “Why don’t you tell us what you remember? Best get it out of your system.” He ignored the look Logan was giving him. The Buizel thought that this was a bad idea.

     “Derek, I think we should–“

    The Haunter cut him off with a wave of his hand. “N-no... it’s fine...” he said, repressing the urge to let out another wail of sorrow. “W-well... what I remembered... is that me and my brother... with a nephew of mine... went to explore a large... a-abandoned mine or dungeon with several other ‘mons.” The images and memories were starting to come to him now, but they were hazy, sort of... veiled by something. “We went deeper and deeper and then... there was this... group of sorts.... and-and they start attacking... there was s-so much blood and bodies and... o-oh...” he clenched his eyes shut as a rather vivid image of a ‘mon he felt a close kinship with, getting skewered over. “L-lots of screaming...” he continued, “And then... cold... the rest were lost to me... they were lost! Why did I ever suggest that expedition in the first place?!” The Haunter was openly sobbing and wailing now as the last of the memories rushed through his head. “M-my brother... my nephew... a-all of them...”

    Tentatively, Derek reached out to pat the Haunter’s back. “Alright, alright. You don’t have to continue if you don’t want to.” He said.

     “That was the last thing I remembered.” The Haunter croaked.

     “S-so... that’s all?” Logan uttered. “Remember anything else?”

    The Ghost type shook his head.

    Derek sighed and nodded. “I guess that’s it... Hmm... Logan, can you take him to the team stationed at the square? The real guys will handle this.” He whispered whilst calming the Haunter down.

    Logan nodded and gently grabbed one of the Haunter’s claws. “Well, I’ll take you to the Healers and Response team, Mr. Haunter. They will take care of you.” He said.

     “A-alright.” He nodded slowly. His eyes drooped to the ground. “I’m really tired... and confused... but... thanks for your help lads.”

     “Anytime.” Derek gave the Ghost an encouraging smile.

    The Haunter let out a long sigh and followed Logan out from the mysterious stone circle. Derek saw him sway a few times, but the Dewott had kept him steady. He puffed out slowly and turned to the slab or rock where Cael had rested. The sword was still blissfully unaware of what had happened. Derek rolled his eyes.                              

    Before he could lie himself down on the grass however, a flash of light caught his eyes and he saw the same wisps of energy forming right in front of him. Groaning, the Fire type stretched his stiff back and waited until the ball dissipated. This is going to be along night.

Errand #11 - Ghostly Attendance
Client: Robin
Errand: #11
Date Issued: October 30, 2014
Date Due: November 3, 2014


Welp, I tried and failed to write a spooky-ish story, so I went to the humor path instead. This errand wasn't really suited for Derek at all. XD

Teams:
Stormfront
Aecor

Cameos:
Cael the Honedge © Quarteon01
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    Ramzi’s Tavern and Grill was packed with every sorts of Pokémon. Ardor had to crane his neck to spot the elusive and incredibly annoying Dewott within the crowd. To his irritation, he failed to discern the Water-type’s location and had thought that the Dewott was simply pulling a prank on him—a thought that occupied his mind for the past five hours.  

   “Can I help you, sir?”

   Ardor turned his attention to the Sandslash that had addressed him, clad in rich red and gold trimmed vest. The Quilava gulped down the small feeling of panic down his throat and spoke, “Er, yes. I’m with–”

   “Reservation under Sharpe, table for two, nine o’clock.”

   With a muffled groan, Ardor spun to meet the sea-green eyes of Fennec. The Dewott had an easy-going grin on his face as he patted the Fire-type’s shoulder. “I was wondering when you’d show up,” he said. “Got us a nice, comfy spot. You’ll like it.”

   “Here you go, sir.” The waiter took out a receipt and wrote something on the surface before he handed it to Fennec. “Table 6. A waitress will be right at you. Enjoy your dinner.”

   “We will.” Fennec nodded, slipping the receipt into his shirt pocket. “C’mon.” He grabbed Ardor’s paws and pulled the Quilava through the row of tables. 

    Ardor was tempted to crush the Dewott’s paw but refrained from doing so due to the number of looks he was getting from their fellow patrons.

   “Did this young chap lose his way?"

   ”I pity his date.”

   He had never felt so embarrassed and self-conscious in his life. He tugged on his simple white hoodie uncomfortably and focused on the back of Fennec’s head instead.

   Table 6 was located on the other side of the restaurant. It was propped on a semi-secluded corner decorated by vine-draped walls and intricately-carved wooden paneling depicting great trees and forests. The table itself was draped in maroon velvet cloth neatened up with Arranysan embroidery. 

   “You picked a nice place,” Ardor remarked, glancing around the restaurant which was decorated with Mediterranean finery as a Delcatty waitress came with a large bottle of wine and an ice bucket. “Must be pricey.”

   Fennec shrugged, rolling his neck as he observed the waitress pour him and Ardor some wine. "I'm someone with fine taste," he said, picking up the glass and sipping some of its contents. "What's the point of being well-off if I don't spend my dough on pricey pricey stuff? Can't say the same about you though." The Dewott furrowed his brows at Ardor's choice of attire. "You look like you're dressed for some jogging...and you turn up 30 minutes late. Where's your manners?"

   Ardor tugged at his simple hoodie as his face flushed slightly in embarrassment. "It's not like I know where this place is,” he murmured, thinking back to his uncharacteristic fussing over his wardrobe and the odd look Darius was giving him. The sleeveless white garment was the best possible option other than his dress robe –which was a no go. He really hated that formal attire. He eyed Fennec’s stylish, but casual black button-up shirt a little enviously. Shaking his head, he continued, “And did you even see the line outside? You just came out of nowhere as far as I know." The stoat turned to look at the waitress as she handed both of them a steaming bowl of soup.

   Chuckling, Fennec quipped, "For a Master, you don't seem to know every nook and cranny of this place like I expected you to. Maybe...I should lower my expectations." The glass in his hand was replaced with a napkin as he flicked it open and laid it on his lap. "You look out of place really."

   The glass of wine stopped halfway towards Ardor's mouth. He was now staring wide-eyed at the Dewott. Taking a deep, calming breath, he exhaled, "And how did you know that, pray tell?"

   "Don't look so shocked," Fennec returned with a bright smile. "Think some random Dewott would ask ya out just like that? You probably know everything about me, so why shouldn't I know everything about you?" He sampled his soup. "Mmm, delish."

    Closing his eyes, Ardor exhaled loudly through his nose. "Your reputation isn't too far off, Sharpe. Did you make it a habit to know your 'victims'—" he quoted the air, "—before you asked them out?"

   "Yup." He seemed rather nonplussed by the question, as if he had been asked that many times before. "But I'm taking a hiatus...so you don't have to worry about me thinking of poisoning your food."

   As if on cue, their waitress came back with a tray of exotic dishes.

   “That was fast...,” Ardor thought before his eyes focused on the tray, widening slightly as they registered an assortment of mezze, complete with yogurt and artichoke salad. "Whoa... wait. Did you order this on purpose?"

   “Better.” The Dewott popped a slice of köfte into his mouth, chewing it slowly to savour the taste. "I made it especially for you. Worked here as a part-timer so convincing the owner wasn't too difficult."

   Ardor blinked in surprise.  “You made these?” He found the notion to be quite far-fetched. Frowning in confusion, he picked up a stuffed Qualot berry and popped it into his mouth, letting out a satisfied sort of voice from his throat as he devoured the food. "You know, this is really good." he remarked, taking another piece. "I'm surprised, really... did you really cook these yourself?”

   Fennec simply rolled his eyes in response. “It's not big of a deal. I just taught myself to survive, that's all.” He propped his elbow on the table. “Cooking is only one of my many talents.”

   “Well, I know some of these are quite hard to make,” Ardor pointed out. “You really have one hell of a talent if you can prepare something like this as if it was nothing.”

   Peering at Ardor with a flat gaze, the Dewott huffed, “You give out praise too easily.” He picked some more of the food to his plate, but not much.

   “That praise happens to come from someone who lived in Fȳren for more than 17 years,” was Ardor’s flat reply. “Need I say more?”

   Fennec hummed flippantly. “Well, in any case, what do you do for a living?”

   Ardor opened his mouth.

   “Besides your primary job of course.”

   The Quilava raised his eyebrow and shrugged. “I joined the Hunters Guild as an apprentice, and have a part time job at the new dojo downtown.”

   Fennec’s muzzle pulled into a small smirk as he regarded Ardor mirthfully. “Is that all? You're not very good at hiding your assassin aura.”

   “For a wanted fugitive, you're not hiding yours very well either, Sharpe. Not worried that the Zigzagoon detective to sniff you out?” Ardor retorted, taking a souvlaki from the serving plate. “And what about your Lucario associate by the way? It has been a while since I saw him. I recall both of you were from the same organization.”

   “Technically speaking, most don't know that I exist.” Fennec smirked. “I can be a painter, a florist, an alchemist, anything you can think of. And I wasn't really trying to hide my identity as a former Reverse member. What's the point when it's all been destroyed?” The Water-type sampled a bit of his tarama and took another sip from his glass. “As for Noir, I haven't really revealed myself to him yet, but I will sooner or later. He was a great partner, particularly when it came to sex~” he giggled. “He'd pound me until I was sore, so, so sore~”

   Ardor had an odd look on his face. He blinked twice and shifted on his seat, giving the silver-haired Dewott an odd look. “I...see,” he coughed.

   “Is there a problem?” Fennec’s grin grew darker.

   “Well, no. It came as a surprise for me I guess.” Ardor shrugged, trying to get the notion of Fennec and Noir being together out of his mind. “Well, you sure aren't bothered by the fact most of the Royal Guards are still looking for you after your serial killing spree,” he uttered, lowering his tone slightly.

   A chuckle rumbled from the Water-type’s throat. “Like I said, I'm a Kecleon. That busybody Zigzagoon can't prove that I killed all those Pokémon.” He scoffed. “No one is going to miss them, now that their secrets have been exposed.” He paused as the waitress came back with the main dish and took the appetizer away. “Well, let’s eat for the time being. You don’t want to let the food grow cold would you?” Fennec said, digging his utensils into the meat.

   Rolling his eyes, Ardor cleared his plate and began to fill it with the new dish that had been laid out in front of them. He had to admit, Fennec’s cooking skills were beyond everything he could ever imagine. Soon, both plates were empty and the two Pokémon were drinking their wine in a satisfied silence.

   Gulping down his last glass of wine, Fennec draped his napkin over his plate and pushed his chair out. "Well, this has been fun," he voiced out, gesturing for the waitress who had been waiting for them.

   “How can I help you, sir?” she asked.

   “Yeah, can we have the bill?”

   The Delcatty nodded with a smile. “Certainly, sir.” Her onyx eyes lingered at Ardor, who was staring back at her with an eyebrow raised. “You have a really cute boyfriend by the way,” she teased as she flipped through her receipts.

   Ardor choked on his wine.

   “I do, don’t I?” Fennec replied cheekily, nodding at the bill before giving the Delcatty some Stars. “I’ll see you around then.”

    Ardor stared as the Dewott slowly made his way to the exit. Exhaling loudly, he quickly followed the Water-type into the streets outside. It was bare of any Pokémon, as it was close to midnight, but there were trickles of ‘mons here and there, mostly nocturnal ones. Ardor quickly fell into step with Fennec.

   “So, that's it then?” the Fire-type prodded. “You kissed me out of the blue, invited me to dinner without me having a say, and then just walk off like that?"

   Fennec shrugged, smiling at Ardor. "You don't seem to enjoy my company, so why should I make the effort?" he asked, tapping his foot.

   "You're the most confusing 'mon I've ever met," Ardor muttered, eyes twitching.

   "At least I'm special," Fennec chirped, leaning on a lamp post as he stopped. He puffed out some air his fingers before the Dewott queried, "Why are you licking your lips, hmm?"

   Ardor stopped what he was doing immediately. "It's a habit of mine," he admitted, feeling a little bit foolish. "I tend to do that at random."

   "Oo~ Mr. Master is lying~" Fennec giggled, grinning from ear to ear. "He actually likes my taste~"

   "I do not," Ardor retorted with a half-hearted glare.
   
   "Hmm..." With a single stride, Fennec devoured the distance between them, their breaths mingling. "That blush is not convincing me~"

   Ardor tried to inch his head away, but Fennec's sudden grip on his shoulders somehow froze him on the spot. "S-shut up." He attempted to intensify his glare, only to meet the otter's sea green eyes.

   Smirking from the reaction, Fennec poked his tongue out and moistened his lips, lowering his eyelids slightly. "You make my heart skip a beat as well," he uttered smoothly, leaning in and pressing their lips together as he hugged the Quilava closer.

   Freezing, again, for the third time of the day, Ardor's eyes shot wide open. His heart was beating hard against his ribcage as his brain tried to comprehend what was transpiring. His body on the other hand, seemed to have other ideas, as he found himself slowly, but hesitantly, returning the kiss.

   The Dewott tilted his head to deepen his canoodling, intertwining his fingers with Ardor's forepaw digits. He opted to take it slow, passing on prodding for entrance in favour of simply enjoying the feel of the Quilava's surprisingly soft lips on his. He eventually broke away, pressing his forehead against his new boyfriend's and tenderly peering into his eyes.

   "Nice to meet you, Ardor."

   Ardor simply flushed, an awkward smile colouring his features. “Y-you too, F-Fennec…”

Zanker Haus - Part 2
Part 1|Part 2

This little story here stems from the number of discussions and RPs I had with Senso ever since I joined PMDU. I had never imagined that one of my characters would be shipped with anyone, much less from one of the best writers in the group. Well, the ship had set sail, no turning back now. Well, read and tell me what you think. :)

NB: Thanks for Setsuna-Senso for proofreading this. :) (Smile)

Fennec Sharpe © Setsuna-Senso
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    “I heard that the others will arrive soon. That true?”

    Darius inclined his head. “In about four to five days, if they have a smooth journey,” he mused. “They didn’t take the same route as we did.” The Shiny Blaziken adjusted the dark grey cloak that was fastened on his shoulder. “They will also bring three Novices with them.”

    “I see.” Ardor nodded. His brow creased slightly as he bit his lower lip. He couldn’t help but worry over that piece of information

    A small chuckle rumbled through Darius’ throat. “Have more faith, Ardor. Odius and Nikandros will guide our Brothers trough the Pass safely.” He took a gulp from his tankard. “You of all Pokémon shouldn’t feel so worried.”

    Ardor exhaled, a rather embarrassed smile plastered on his face. “I know, it’s just... Eight of our Brothers coming here from Fȳren, three of them Novices... Wouldn’t it attract their attention?”

    Darius knew very well whom Ardor was referring to, but he only smiled. “As a Master, you should trust your Mercenaries’ skills and capabilities more. They’ll make it through. I’m sure.”

    “Alright then,” the Quilava replied with a drawn out sigh. The two Mercenaries leading the journey were his best friends, of course he would worry. Shaking his head, he ran his paws through his hair and stood up. “I’m going out for some fresh air. Be back later.”

    “Don’t stay out too long then.”

    “Yeah, I won’t.” Ardor exited the small pub and into the streets. “As if I would stay out for hours on end.”

    The early afternoon air that greeted him was cooler than the air this morning, a great relief for most of the Pokémon that lived in Andalusst. Summer had officially started, and the temperature had risen drastically over the last few days. Being a ‘mon who was born and raised in the dry hot valleys and plateaus of Fȳren, the current temperature didn’t affect him much. In fact, the dry, summer winds would be considered moderately cool and refreshing in Fȳrenian standards; nonetheless, it was still warm. That was why Ardor had opted to wear a simple sleeveless tunic. His regular cloak would heat up to uncomfortable levels under the sun and he would get weird looks from the locals.

    Sighing, Ardor went into a slow, but leisure stroll around the general area around the pub, passing several Pokémon as he did so, while simultaneously picking up the conversations that had caught his ears, a skill that had turned into a habit after several years apprenticing in the Brotherhood. From what he had gathered, there had been talks of an upcoming party hosted by the Iaponese Ambassador as thanks for ensuring her safety in Andalusst.

    Well, that should be interesting. Ardor was now wondering what the Froslass had in store for them. She might throw a Iaponese summer festival if his knowledge on the eastern country was right. They loved to have huge parties to celebrate nature and seasons and so on from what he had read.

    He was brought out from his musings as he passed by a rather inconspicuous looking building to his left. It didn’t look like much but the distinct, rowdy roar of an excited crowd definitely caught his attention. Casting a long, dubious look at the two-storey wood-and-brick building, Ardor shrugged and stepped inside.

    The room beyond the door was poorly lit: a few dusty Chargestone lamps hung along the walls and on the ceiling; the windows on either side of the door were covered with a thin, canvas covering which bathed the whole room in a pale yellow light; the walls were bare, covered with white paint, which was chipping around the edges, and the floorboards creaked when Ardor moved across it. The dull roar of the crowd sounded much louder now.

    “You here to fight or watch?”

    “Hmm?” Ardor turned to look at the Medicham at the counter.

    “You want to fight or to watch?” the dual-type repeated, eyeing the Quilava as he approached the counter. “You seemed to be the fighting type.” She nodded approvingly at Ardor’s prominent muscles.

    The Quilava blinked and shifted under the Meditate Pokémon’s rather critical gaze. “A fight?”

    The Medicham raised an eyebrow. “Yes. This is a fighting club, didn’t the sign tell you?”

    “...There are no signs outside.”

    There was an audible curse from the Medicham as her face twisted in annoyance. “Must’ve been ripped off again, damn those kids... Ah, well. Welcome to the Zänker Haus. You can participate in our daily spars and fights or just watch the ones that are on-going.” She paused to catch her breath. “Entry fees will be three Stars for fighters and one Star for spectators. You still can participate in the fight if you want, so it’s fine either way,” she concluded with a shrug. 

    Ardor hummed thoughtfully, weighing his options. He could participate, and perhaps have a good workout, but that would take hours, which in turn would induce Darius’ annoyance. He doesn’t approve being late. If could also opted to watch the fight, and leave whenever he liked.  Well, he supposed that a little viewing wouldn’t hurt.

    Nodding to himself, the Quilava dug into his money pouch and handed the Medicham one Star. She took it with a nod and handed Ardor a small card of sorts.

    “Fill that and give it to Warden if you want to work that body of yours,” she said with a small smirk.

    “Warden?”

    “Yes,” the Medicham huffed, gesturing to the swinging door to the side of the counter. 

    “The Granbull. His name is Warden. Just go through there.”

    “Ah, okay then. Thanks.” Ardor nodded and pushed the doors open. He found himself passing through a short dark hallway and was soon inside a large hall filled with cheering and shouting ‘mons. The hall was a simple square opening, stretching two floors above with a balcony surrounding the whole area. A set of stairs were built right beside the corridor for easy access to the balcony on the second level. The ones who couldn’t get a good view on the ground level had gone up to view the on-going fight from the top.

    The fighting ring was the strangest thing Ardor had ever seen. It wasn’t in the default circular or rectangular shape, but was a large octagon instead. The floor of the ring was padded with soft clay, firm enough to stand and move around in but soft enough not to cause any bruises if one fall, and it was bordered by sturdy canvas walls hoisted by strong wooden poles. Ardor supposed that the owner of the club had given some thought on the wellbeing of the fighters.

    There was an audible pitying “Oooh!” from the crowd as the Quilava walked up the stairs to the balcony. He made his way to look over the railing just in time to see a rather scruffy and tough-looking Machoke delivering a powerful punch right into the cheek of a Zigzagoon half its size. Ardor was surprised that the Normal-type merely stumbled back, looking disoriented but definitely still able to fight. The Zigzagoon was thin, but not overly so, with a rather thick tail and messy fur. He had the lithe, speedy built of a fighter, definitely not the power type, and those calculating blue eyes... well, this had to be an interesting fight.

    The Zigzagoon in question was spitting out red from his mouth and regarding his opponent with a slight cock of his head. The hulk of a Machoke grinned challengingly and banged his bandaged fists together.

    The raccoon rolled over as the Machoke charged in. But he had misjudged the Fighting-type’s strategy and didn’t see the Machoke’s foot coming. Ardor could hear the air rush out of the Zigzagoon’s lungs as the foot collided with his stomach. He staggered backward, almost tripping in the process. Shaking the dizziness out of his head, the Zigzagoon blinked at the crowd before he focused himself back to the fight. The Machoke lunged again, and to his dismay, the smaller Pokémon sidestepped it with ease and countered with a solid uppercut to his jaw.

    There was a thunderous roar and applause from his supporters and betters.

    To everyone’s surprise, however, the Tiny Raccoon Pokémon gave a curt nod to the Machoke. A smile was sketched on his face. “Well done. Thank you for the fight.” And he began to walk away.

    The Machoke wasn’t pleased with the Zigzagoon’s actions, however, as he snarled. His voice thundered above the roar from the crowd. “Hey! We ain’t done yet!”

    “Not done. Finished,” came the Zigzagoon’s reply. He heaved a sigh and exited the ring. 

    “And, as I said, thank you.”

    The Machoke’s face twisted in disgust. He strode a couple steps forward and spat contemptuously at the Zigzagoon, catching him on the back of his head. The raccoon-like Pokémon stopped as the crowd suddenly fell silent. He felt the back of his head and sniffed it.

    “Hmm... Westron Gin,” he pronounced, loud enough to be heard by the entire hall. He turned around and walked back into the ring with the approving roar and applause from the crowd. The Zigzagoon was now eyeing the Machoke with a new calculating look. Ardor could almost see the gears turning in the Zigzagoon’s head.

    The Machoke banged his fists again and fell into his combat stance. What he and the onlookers weren’t expecting however, was the Zigzagoon’s sudden movement and speed, hitting the Machoke with a series of superfast jabs and hooks, incorporating a foreign style of martial arts Ardor had not seen before. The fight ended when the Normal-type delivered a swift kick to the Machoke’s knee, who buckled down and fell over, knocked out. The Zigzagoon had turned away just as the giant of a Fighting-type fell over the ring barriers.

    The crowd had fallen silent, unsure if they liked what they saw, but Ardor was impressed. 

    To take out an opponent less than a minute, and with a type disadvantage at that, was something worth admiring.

    “Well then,” someone coughed from within the crowd below. A Granbull in a simple black shirt and white vest waded his way through the mass of ‘mons and stood in the middle of the ring as the Machoke was dragged out into the infirmary. “The fight goes to James Holford by knockout. Congratulations. Next, we have Fennec Sharpe and Cormac Mc–oh?” He stopped as one of the fight house’s attendants came up to him and whispered something intangible. The Granbull blinked.

    “Ah. It seems that Mr. McDowell wouldn’t be able to fight today,” Warden informed the crowd. 

    There were collective groans and boos from the audience. 

    “But Mr. Sharpe has agreed to select an opponent from the crowd,” he added, much to their surprise. Excited whispers began to spread around the hall. 

    Ardor leaned on the balcony, looking down to the Dewott that was leisurely sauntering into the ring. 

    “This match will be utilizing melee weapons. Anyone who wishes to participate—please move forward to the edge of the balcony or in front of the ring.”

    Fennec watched with a small smile as the majority of the crowd moved backwards to the walls. Only a handful of the audience strode forward. He counted an eager looking Mawile, a Simisage with a smug grin, a brute of a Feraligatr, a pensive Golem, and a jittery Wartortle. And he hasn’t counted the ones on the balcony yet. But one particular ‘mon caught his attention. It was a male Quilava, and he stood out from the rest of the volunteers on the balcony. Well, primarily because of his exotic dark olive green and tan fur, and that firm, muscled stature of his...and partly because the Quilava looked to be the most likely candidate able to withstand his attacks.

    This will be interesting indeed.

    “Mr. Sharpe, if you will,” Warden prompted.

    The Dewott grinned in reply and pointed right at the Quilava on the balcony. “Him.”

    Ardor stared and blinked. “Me?”

    “Yes, the exotic Quilava on the balcony.” The Dewott grinned cheekily. “You seem to be quite the fan~”

    Ardor frowned slightly.

    “Right,” Warden coughed, interrupting the Dewott before he could make his new opponent aggravated. “Mister Quilava. If you would proceed to the changing room to prepare. The match will continue in five minutes. In the meanwhile, you both can prepare yourself.
The rest of the volunteers grumbled and went back to the slowly applauding crowd. Ardor caught the evil stares given by the Feraligatr and Simisage from down below as he made his way towards the stairs. Warden was waiting for him on the bottom of the steps, nodding before he led the Quilava towards the changing room to the side of the hall.

    “Would you require any arm warps, Mr. Quilava?” the Granbull asked, motioning for the number of bandages, gloves, and many other things that were displayed on the cabinet mounted to the side.

    “It’s Ardor, and no, I don’t think I will need any,” the Fire-type replied as he untied the strings of his tunic and pulled it over his head. “And...um, the receptionist said I should give this to you if I wanted to fight?” He handed the small slip of paper to the Granbull as he stored his clothes on the locker shelves.

    Warden nodded. “Ah, yes. Thank you. Just remember to pay two extra Stars to Irma on the front desk since you decided to participate.” 

    “Even if I win?”

    “Yes.” The Granbull nodded. “Fight is in three minutes. Best prepare yourself.” With that, he left Ardor to his own devices.  The Quilava exhaled softly as the burly Pokémon left. Somehow, he had a sinking feeling that the day’s surprises weren’t over yet.


    Fennec was leaning on one of the poles as Ardor entered the fighting ring. The clay ground felt like hardened earth beneath his feet. He glanced around, seeing the looks from the expectant audience around him. Some were sending sneers and shouting encouragement to Fennec instead. The Fire-type rolled his eyes.

    Warden came with a large weapon rack wheeled by two Pokémon behind him. He strode toward the centre of the ring and addressed the crowd. “This will be a match between Ardor and Fennec Sharpe. The winner will be determined by hit points. The fighter who scores two hits or K.O.s their opponent will be declared the winner.”

    Ardor took a deep breath and exhaled, flexing his shoulders and arms as Warden rambled on the rules. Fennec was doing the exact same thing from his side of the ring.

    “And, without further ado...” The Granbull turned to the two ‘mons. “Fighters, choose your weapons!”

    Glancing at his opponent, Ardor went to the weapons rack and browsed through the assortment of swords, daggers, and spears. It didn’t take him long to choose a sabre from the selection of swords. It was quite heavy but well-balanced. Ardor frowned when he felt the blunt edges on the blade. It would seem that they weren’t meant to cut their opponents open. Oh well.  

    Fennec, on the other hand, simply held both of his hands out, forming a condensed ball of bluish energy between his palms; it grew larger and larger until it was a sizeable orb of snow and ice. Then, it exploded into a myriad of snowflakes. 

    Ardor fought to keep his jaws closed. The collective gasps from the crowd told him that they were just as impressed and surprised as he was.

    Gripped between Fennec’s paws was a large double-bladed glaive made entirely of pure, crystal-like ice. The shaft was a long smooth frosted ice, widening slightly as they melded into the blades, with tendrils of ice warping around the central blue gem which seemed to pulse with energy. The blades were pure white, almost silvery in texture, and shaped like a leaf, tapering into a sharp point on the end.

    “Do you like it?” The Dewott grinned, stroking the flat edge of the blades. “It took me a couple of weeks to perfect the shape and size of this.”

    Warden could be heard choking slightly from the sidelines. “W-well... that is a really fine weapon, Mr. Sharpe.” He cleared his throat and stood up straighter. “Right. Fighters! To your positions!”

    Ardor snapped out of his stupor and briskly paced to his end of the ring and fell into stance. Fennec had crouched low with his glaive held behind him, while his other arm stretched forward, smirking at the Fire-type. From the corner of his eye, Ardor could see several Psychic-types erecting barriers around the perimeter of the ring. Perhaps they realized how dangerous this fight will go, especially with the crowd gathering around them. Ardor’s grip on his sword tightened slightly.

    Meanwhile, Warden had taken his position on the small podium to the right of the ring, where he quickly addressed the crowd and the fighters. “Fighters at the ready... in three! Two! One! Fight!”

    Fennec moved right when the Granbull struck the bell. He hefted the glaive over his shoulder and flung it at Ardor, who sidestepped it quite easily and charged. The Quilava swung his sabre in a wide arc, which was dodged by the Water-type who lashed his feet against Ardor’s, causing the Quilava to trip. The Dewott quickly somersaulted and snatched the glaive from the ground before throwing it towards his opponent. Ardor ducked the spinning bladed spear and closed the distance between him and the Dewott. Blocking the incoming punch, the Quilava swiftly slammed the flat side of his blade against Fennec’s chest.

    “Impressive,” he remarked, swerving out of the way as the glaive come spinning in. The Dewott caught the weapon expertly. To Ardor’s surprise, the weapon split into two short swords with a simple twist on the shaft. Smirking slightly, Fennec brought both of the blades up and slammed both of the flat surfaces together, creating a high-pitched sound wave which disoriented Ardor who hissed and clamped both of his paws on his throbbing ears. The psychic barriers rippled from the noise itself, thankfully muting the ear splitting noise to a bearable level outside the ring.

    Taking advantage of the momentary lull in concentration, Fennec lunged and swung his swords downwards, only to meet Ardor’s sabre. The icy surface of the glaive cracked beneath the force as both Ardor and Fennec pushed both of their blades together.  “You look cute when you’re in pain,” the Dewott snickered. He rolled his wrist around, using the momentum to push Ardor’s smaller weapon down before he swung his other sword in a sideways arc. Ardor didn’t have time to react before the blade smashed against his cheek, sending a jolt of coldness running down his body.

    Shaking off the cold, Ardor glared at the Dewott and swung his sword to the side, releasing the hold on his blade before hitting the back of the hilt to Fennec’s stomach. The Water-type staggered as the air rushed out of his lungs. The Quilava quickly twisted his body around his opponent, gripping and twisting Fennec’s arm, putting enough pressure to force the otter to release one of his swords. It fell with a loud clatter to the ground.

    Thinking quickly, Fennec tipped himself a bit before he jumped, hitting Ardor’s jaw and releasing himself from the Quilava’s strong grip at the same time. He then proceeded to flip the Fire-type and slam him on his back, effectively knocking the breath out of him. The Dewott quickly twisted his body around and straddled Ardor’s chest, eliciting a wheeze from his downed opponent. He leaned his face close to the stoat and chuckled. Before Ardor knew what happened, Fennec planted a lingering kiss on his lips while pinning his paws down.

    The roaring crowd fell silent.

    Ardor’s eyes flew open as he felt the other male’s lips on his. Reacting on instinct, he quickly bit, hard, on the Discipline Pokémon, who immediately recoiled out of pain. He was about to knock the Water-type off him, but Fennec held his paws firm to the ground.

    “What the hell you think you’re doing?!” Ardor all but snarled.

    Fennec wiped his bloody mouth, looking at the amount of blood that managed to smear his fur. He chuckled. “Feisty. I like you,” he answered with a wink. “I was scoring a hit. What did you think? That counts, right?” He turned to look at Warden, who blinked at the rather unorthodox display of crippling an opponent.

    “Ah, oh.” The Granbull cleared his throat and nodded. In a louder voice, he said, “Fight goes to Fennec Sharpe in the two-out-of-three-hits bout!”

    There was a slow, but steady applause from the crowd as the psychic barriers dissipated and a roar as Fennec bowed to the audience. He turned and helped Ardor up on his feet with that annoying grin plastered on his face. Swiping his silvery white bangs out of his eyes, he gave a once over to Ardor and nodded to himself. “Dinner. 9 o’clock. Ramzi’s Tavern and Grill. Don’t be late.” He winked and turned his body towards the exit, leaving a stunned and flabbergasted Ardor.                                                                   

    “H-hey! What the in oblivion—OY!” Ardor growled and took after the Dewott. But the otter had disappeared within the cheering and cat-calling crowd.

Zanker Haus - Part 1
Part 1| Part 2

This little story here stems from the number of discussions and RPs I had with Senso ever since I joined PMDU. I had never imagined that one of my characters would be shipped with anyone, much less from one of the best writers in the group. Well, the ship had set sail, no turning back now. 

This is the second appearance of Fennec Sharpe in my stories. If you're curious, Fennec had appeared as the primary antagonist in one of my other PMDU stories. But here, he serves as one of the main "good" characters. And this is my first attempt of writing in the romance genre, so any advice will be welcomed, but please keep your flames or rants to yourself, thanks. Well, that's that, and enjoy.

now lemme just go over there and...idkthisisquiteembarassinghelpme

NB: Thanks for Setsuna-Senso for proofreading this. :)

Fennec Sharpe © Setsuna-Senso
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Quarteon01

Artist | Hobbyist | Literature
Indonesia
I'm a writer, but I also occasionally draw and sketch things, but I lacked the hardware and software to upload it here. My scanner is not good enough, and I only have my laptop and my mouse at disposal so.... I stick to writing.

Anyway, I have joined DeviantArt for 2 years. I've never been active until I joined PMDUnity. It sparked my interest seeing all these good writers there. I'm mostly in Fanfiction.net, but I got into a long writers block so... yeah. The group I joined really helped to lift my block somewhat.

I'm still learning in my writing. I have grammar issues, jumping at tenses occasionally. But I'm slowly correcting the habit. I might go and write a book someday. I have some random, but good ideas jumping around my head. Who knows?


Current Residence: My house...
Print preference: Perfect printing images
Favourite genre of music: Classical and Pop
Favourite style of art: Paintings and digital art
Operating System: Windows 8
MP3 player of choice: I don't have a MP3
Personal Quote: What the-?!
Interests
I was tagged by xDarkThunder 

RULE 1. You can only say Guilty or Innocent.


RULE 2. You are not allowed to explain anything unless someone messages you and asks!

Now, here's what you're supposed to do... And please do not spoil the fun. Copy and paste this into your journal, delete my answers, type in your answers and tag 10 of your friends to answer this.  Then see what happens.

1. Asked someone to marry you?
Innocent

2. Kissed one of your friends?
Innocent

3. Danced on a table in a bar?
Innocent

4. Ever told a lie?
Guilty

5. Had feelings for someone whom you can't have?
Guilty

6. Ever kissed someone of the same sex?
Innocent

7. Kissed a picture?
Innocent

8. Slept in until 5 PM?
Innocent

9. Fallen asleep at work/school?
Innocent

10. Held a snake?
Innocent

11. Been suspended from school?
Innocent

12. Worked at a fast food chain/restaurant?
Innocent

13. Stolen something?
Guilty

14. Been fired from a job?
Innocent

15. Done something you regret
Guilty

16. Laughed until something you were drinking came out of your nose?
Guilty

17. Caught a snowflake on your tongue?
Innocent

18. Kissed in the rain?
Innocent

19. Sat on a roof top?
Innocent

20. Kissed someone you shouldn't?
Innocent

21. Sang in the shower?
Guilty

22. Been pushed into a pool with all your clothes on?
Guilty

23. Shaved your head?
Innocent

24. Slept naked?
...Guilty 

25. Had a boxing MEMBERSHIP?
Innocent

26. Made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry
Innocent

27. Been in a band?
Innocent

28. Shot a gun?
Innocent

29. Donated Blood?
Innocent

30. Eaten alligator meat?
Innocent

31. Eaten cheesecake?
Guilty

32. Still love someone you shouldn't?
Guilty

33. Have/had a tattoo?
Innocent

34. Liked someone, but will never tell who?
Guilty

35. Been too honest?
Guilty

36. Ruined a surprise?
Guilty

37. Ate in a restaurant and got really bloated that you can't walk afterwards?
Innocent

38. Erased someone in your friends list?
Innocent

39. Dressed in a woman's clothes (if you're a guy) or man's clothes (if you're a girl)?
Innocent

40. Joined a pageant?
Innocent

41. Been told that you're handsome or beautiful by someone who totally meant what they said?
Innocent... I guess?

42. Still have communication w/ your ex?
Innocent

43. Cheated on someone?
Guilty

44. Get totally drunk one night and you have an important exam tomorrow morning?
Innocent

45. A total stranger treated you by PAYING your fare?
Innocent

46. Get totally angry that you cried so hard?
Innocent

47. Tried to stay away from someone for their own good?
Guilty

48. Thought about suicide?
Guilty

49. Thought about murder?
Innocent

50. How about Mass Murder?
Innocent

51. Rode in a stranger's vehicle?
Guilty

52. Stalked someone?
Innocent

53. Had a girlfriend/boyfriend
Innocent :p

Tag: None. You may or may not do this... silly thing. Whatever. XD

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:iconjulioblah:
julioblah Featured By Owner 2 days ago  Hobbyist Writer
I know it's kinda late, but thanks for the fave quarteon! :D
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:iconquarteon01:
Quarteon01 Featured By Owner 2 days ago  Hobbyist Writer
You're welcome! :D
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:iconthetravelinbuizel:
TheTravelinBuizel Featured By Owner Nov 3, 2014  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
thank yeh for the favorite! X3
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:iconquarteon01:
Quarteon01 Featured By Owner Nov 3, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
Eheheh. You're welcome!
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:iconthetravelinbuizel:
TheTravelinBuizel Featured By Owner Nov 2, 2014  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
thankee for the favorite X3
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:iconquarteon01:
Quarteon01 Featured By Owner Nov 2, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
You're welcome! XD
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SpeckulativeDust Featured By Owner Nov 2, 2014
Thx for the fav!
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:iconquarteon01:
Quarteon01 Featured By Owner Nov 2, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
You're welcome! :D
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:iconabundridge:
ABundridge Featured By Owner Oct 30, 2014  Professional General Artist
Thanks for the fav!!!
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:iconthetravelinbuizel:
TheTravelinBuizel Featured By Owner Oct 30, 2014  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
tank ye for the favorite X3
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