[intriguant]

#INTRIGUANT:  an independent and mutually exclusive roleplay blog featuring branch chief faba of the pokémon franchise. headcanon-driven with influence from the sun and moon video games and anime. written by ASH 🐇 ( thirty-four, she/her, est )

navigation ... rules  muse info  prompts  promo  headcanons  worldbuilding

[intriguant]

girl help the secondhand book I ordered was annotated to DEATH and they are so fucking funny

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[cuppydogshane]

me and the mutuals are giving some minor characters rich inner worlds later if you wanna pull up. yeah its gonna be all day.

[intriguant]

many thoughts of sports manager faba occurring with the discovery of this album. unfortunately, one of those is the realization that he is not any cooler in this verse. he still believes that his retro persona is a little too relevant, that he's still in his prime when he hasn't been in probably 20 years.

[valtsv]

well personally me and my soulmate use our red string of fate to trip people over but i guess finding love is cool too

[cosmoxdrome]

During the lull in their hushed conversation, Petrel's focus shifted to the play as it unfolded. He silently mouthed along to the words of the play— even lines that were changed for this particular production— as he listened in for his cue to enact his special plan for the evening. He was so focused, in fact, that he did not notice the clinking next to him. It was only when Faba clasped his hand between both of his that Petrel finally pried her eyes from the stage, looking as Faba in the dim light of their private box.

And though she tried to keep listening to the play, ever vigilant for that cue she was waiting for, Faba's honey sweet voice demanded her full attention. Then his hand began to wander up her forearm and to her shoulder. His touch was warm and inviting. The next thing Petrel knew, Faba was as close as he had ever been. She could feel her own heart beating like a drum in her chest as his intentions became clear.

Faba was inviting Petrel to kiss him.

It seemed that he had managed to prove his intentions were pure (or as pure as someone of his persuasion's intentions could be) and that he was worthy of Faba's affection. He had achieved his goal and could finally claim his reward... but Petrel wanted Faba to see what he had done— to see the final gift he had prepared for their date (the first of many, he hoped).

Though she could melt into Faba right now and savor the taste of his lips, Petrel knew she would lose herself in the magnificence of his presence and miss her opportunity to give Faba a night he would never forget.

"Je suis désolé," Petrel murmured, turning his face away from Faba's. Those words tasted like betrayal on his tongue. It would all be worth it in the end. At least that's what he told himself.

Then she heard it— her cue!

Downing the rest of his drink, Petrel set his glass aside before pulling his hand free from Faba's grasp. Then he promptly stood to leave, though he remained rooted in place long enough to look down at Faba with an apologetic look before adding, "There is something I have to attend to. I will be return... I promise."

She did not wait for Faba to make demands or protest her sudden, unexplained departure. Instead, Petrel turned and left posthaste. She had to move quickly if this plan was going to go off without a hitch.

Petrel wasted no time in enacting his plan. First he made his way down to the main floor. He kept a cool, low-key posture as he entered the backstage area— it was amazing how many places you could go if you just acted like you belonged there. And after a quick stop in a broom closet, no one would ever guess that he was someone other than one of the leading men of the play. Then he made his way to the stage, staying just out of sight from the bustling stage crew as they milled about doing their jobs behind the curtains.

Just as Petrel began to worry he had missed his chance, the genuine article showed up. He wore a look of shock as he gave Petrel a quick once over before composing himself and wordlessly extending an open hand. To which Petrel responded by quickly depositing a wad of cash onto the expecting palm. Normally for this sort of stunt, Petrel would have disposed of the real deal and taken their place, but this time Petrel thought better of it. Bribes were easier anyway.

With the hand off made, Petrel passed the real actor by and strolled into the open just in time to have a stage hand to slap a leather bag in his hand and push him along towards the stage— he was about to miss his cue if he didn't hurry up!

Stepping out onto the stage, Petrel was greeted by his fellow actors all looking at him awaiting his line.

Clutching the bag in hand, he stepped forward with great haste as a character named Jack towards another, old woman upon the stage. "Is this the hand-bag, Miss Prism? Examine it carefully before you speak. The happiness of more than one life depends on your answer."

The line comes out identical to that of the actor Petrel had replaced, the rest of the cast was none the wised, and the scene goes on as rehearsed. The final twists of the play began to unfold to the delight of the audience watching just beyond the stage. But only one audience member mattered in that whole theater. This play was entirely for him. Everyone else was just an unwitting part of the true performance at hand.

As the scene unfolded and the play began to conclude, Petrel paused and looked out at the box where he had left Faba. Though his form was hard to parse in the darkness, Petrel knew he was there and smiled. And as his pause went on a beat longer than it should have, Petrel was brought back into the performance by a soft clearing of one's throat from a fellow actor, Jack's love interest, Gwendolen. Petrel tore his eyes away from the box seats and returned to the scene at hand.

"Gwendolen, it is a terrible thing for a man to find out suddenly that all his life he has been speaking nothing but the truth. Can you forgive me?"

"I can. For I feel that you are sure to change," replied Gwendolen.

"My own one!" Petrel said, extending his arms as the actor readily entered his embrace. Then the two met in a scripted kiss— passionate from the audience's view, but sparse and professional for those on the stage.

When the scene concluded and the curtains closed, Petrel made a hasty exist, passing the genuine article by with a wave as he returned for the final curtain call. She promptly made herself scarce, shedding her disguise and slipping out of the employees only area. With her plan having gone off perfectly, Petrel could not hide the excitement burning in her heart as she made her way back towards their box seats.

He had to know what Faba thought.

[intriguant]

it was a remarkable performance, all things considered. faba had been stunned into dumbstruck silence as the scathing reality of his rejection set in, long enough for petrel to slip away — and, luckily for her — before he had begun to formulate the obscenities that he felt appropriate.

he had filed away those initial complaints for later, once he made the startling realization that petrel had wormed his way onstage. faba didn't know how he knew it, he just did. from how his absence grew suspiciously long, how the lead looked in his direction one too many times. it felt deliberate. those eyes, even from so far away, pushed against the barrier he had unwittingly cast around himself in his simmering like a wall.

petrel's flight, that business to attend to, could have easily been forgiven for its humor and its audacity — oh, how faba had laughed! — if it didn't involve kissing the other actors in the end, the very affection he was so wrongly denied.

it crossed him. it crossed him so deeply that he failed to see it for what it was — staged. that was his, yet it had been withheld for another with faba outside of the spectacle, looking in, humiliated. but he could have guessed that things might go this way eventually.

at least his complete and utter dismissal had some flair. but even so, she won't get away with it. no one ever did.

"oh my, how clever," faba greets petrel pointedly when she returns to their seats. it's clear though, from his pinched face, from how rigidly he crosses his arms, from how another glass of wine has gone, much too swiftly to have been savored, that he is no longer amused.

"I was so enchanted by your display in fact, that I almost failed to realize how I have overstated your respect. almost," he continues hotly, rising to his feet and crossing the room to deliver her a piece of his mind before she can get a word in edgewise.

"but now I must wonder! who really is your intended date tonight? the one turned down, or the one receiving your affections for all to see? were they in on this, too? perhaps they laugh at my expense even now! hah!" that prospect alone is more than infuriating enough.

he draws back an open hand, taut and ready as a mighty bow, "have you forgotten who I am?!"

[doomdoomdoomdoomdoomdoomdoomdoom]

Stupid GIR, of course he'd gone and gotten himself captured the moment they'd been separated. Great, now Zim was going to have to rescue him in addition to getting himself out of this mess. At least the human seemed amicable, accepting his incredibly genius and on the spot excuse as a joke. Just as planned! He'd thought so anyhow, but then the man started interrogating him- like Dib but maybe just a little tiny bit actually intimidating. All of the adult specimen he'd surveyed before were just as stupid as the children- even the Dib's 'genius' father never suspected him as anything other than a sweet little skoolboy, so how had this one not been fooled by his amazingly improvised excuse? No matter. He'd just have to do this the old fashioned way and out-intimidate him.

"Capture? NOBODY captures Zim. You're a FOOL to think you could EVER-" The human wasn't listening. He just glared at him like a sylvestrian snarl beast poised to attack. "Withdraw at ONCE you- NO! STOP! WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE D-" He let out a high pitched screech akin to a mortally wounded animal as he was yanked up by his antennae. The force pulled at his scalp so hard that it was a miracle they hadn't just been ripped off entirely. He wriggled and squirmed, clawing at the human's hands to try to release himself and hissing as his struggle only intensified the pain.

The human was talking to him again, but with his antennae compromised Zim could barely hear him, deafened by a high pitched ringing. "RELEASE ME! ZIM CANNOT BE COERCED! YOU WILL-" A half hiss half howl as he was shaken, flailing his arms around to no avail. "YOU WILL PAY FOR YOUR ASSAULT AGAINST IRK'S MOST ESTEEMED MILITARY ELITE!!! YOU WILL EXPERIENCE PAIN LIKE NO PAIN EXPERIENCED IN THE HISTORY OF PAIN-" Even his own voice sounded woefully muffled, no matter how loud he screamed. And he was screaming as loudly as he possibly could. "UNHAND ME YOU WRETCHED GRGRGGHH GHGHHH HHHHHHHUMAN-" In a final attempt to free himself, four mechanical spider-like appendages burst from his PAK, clawing and scratching at his assailant with their razor sharp points, though he lacked the proper coordination for a proper attack. He didn't dare claw anywhere near the human's hands gripping him, painfully aware of the limbs' ability to slice through his antennae and leave him permanently injured- deformed and weak. He wouldn't dare risk it- not even in a last, desperate effort to escape. He'd sooner die than mutilate himself like that. He'd find some other way out of this, just like he always did!

[intriguant]

as the scene unfolds before him, faba giggles, self satisfied. his iron grip on the pair of antenna does not budge, no matter how the creature struggles. the creature which is now clearly beyond pissed, yet faba cannot make out any of his infernal screeching over his own maddeningly shrill chittering.

unfortunate as it may be, faba's been there before — writhing, disgraced by his own poor planning — a lesser man might sympathize, but not faba. it just makes his current position all the more glorious.

the errant contraption that scratches at his arm hasn't torn into his sleeve yet, so with his empty hand behind his back and a smile much too jubilant to be wicked, he turns smoothly on his heel and takes off with his frantic prize, back down the corridor where he had given chase, and into a much more opened space, outdoors but not.

"hee hee, oh my, how atrocious my manners have been!" he crows, giving zim another shake — because he can — just before stopping near a glistening pool of water, a single shadow dancing along as it skims the bottom. admittedly, he's always longed for an excuse to try this…

"now, I'm perfectly reasonable!" he declares, unreasonably, "so if you do not wish to speak with me after my... less than hospitable welcome, I understand perfectly... but you might perhaps, tell my friend what I want to know instead, hm...?" and he holds zim out above the bruxish pool.

[mnstcrbnll]

They couldn't keep in a snicker. Of course it's rather chilly, they wouldn't say otherwise, but it's rather normal for Kanto at this time of the year. Guess a handful of degrees under a million is too much for someone used to Alola's weather, huh?

But they don't comment - partially because they remember how much they complained about Hoenn's humidity and warmth whenever they were forced to work out of Region, partially to stay in Faba's good grace. You gain a lot more by being polite and friendly than sarcastic, no matter how playful your intentions could be!

You never know when you need some extra assistance.

"A while? I practically built this place, baby!"

A bit of an exaggeration.

"I know the slots with the best odds, which patron I should stop before he rages and which one I just have to egg on, who is here for the free Pokèmon and who is here for fun..." Who is a cop in disguise, they keep for themselves. "So if you need some tips and tricks on where to start indulging into gambling, I'm the right person for you!"

[intriguant]

faba barks out with laughter at their triumph. already, he thinks he might like them, that they might even work well enough together. they know what is important, that there's no sense in even doing the work without a certain degree of unabashed pride in it, a philosophy he's covered in his written works no fewer than twice in the past. it strikes his good humor like a match.

"now, now, let us not get carried away..." he waves a leisurely hand, eyes trailing slowly from clover to the sliver of warmth peeping out through the door, his curiosity certainly piqued, "I didn't come here intending to indulge in anything, but with such a laundry list of experience... well, how could I possibly say no to a game at your expert recommendation...?"

[intriguant]

hey. watch this

fascinating. are you quite finished?

[cosmoxdrome]

Let your ship draw each other @intriguant

// I was asked to do this meme by a friend. It was a lot of fun. I think we all can tell who the better artist is here.

Petrel, clearly.

Template and solo art pieces below

[raelium]

@intriguant

Get a ship that can do both.

Made for a lenticular card.

[cosmoxdrome]

While Petrel's eyes were on the stage, her attention was on Faba, watching him through her periphery and feeling the way he held her hand. His grip was light and gentle, yet the meaning was clear to her— he was being cautious. As expected, Petrel had yet to tear down those walls Faba had constructed around his heart. But she knew that she was nearly through. And if things went according to the plan, Faba's walls would crumble and his heart would be laid bare for her to see.

This was, of course, not something to take lightly. Petrel knew that clearly. Though he was eager to see what sort of person Faba was once he finally let his guard down, he did not intend to take that for granted for even a moment— no matter what was hidden behind the proverbial bricks of mortar.

When Faba spoke, Petrel took the chance to look at him, wearing a soft smile as she squeezed his hand in hers. Even in the dim light of the theater, Faba was still stunning enough to steal the spotlight.

"Of course," he replied, voice hushed despite the fact that their booth was private. "I know what I like... And I like you, Faba."

She could not wait to show him the lengths she would go to just for him.

[intriguant]

"you do," faba doesn't question it, he affirms it. of course petrel likes him, she's made that quite clear. he can feel it with more certainty than he has ever known. it's almost shameful that he once thought all of her attention was only a part of some elaborate scheme against him. one can never be too careful, of course, but with the due reverence she has shown to him, that line of thinking has been cast into the realm of impossibility where it hopefully belongs.

perhaps he can make up for that frightful lapse in judgement yet. and for that, petrel is quite lucky indeed. it is not often that faba begins to consider his prospects made all the more amusing by contributing more of himself, rather than solely receiving. with her, he dares say it must be safe enough to do so.

there is a soft clink as faba deposits his glass onto the table. he rests his hand on top of petrel's own that he holds within the other, enveloping it completely, tugging him nearer, commanding even more of his attention, promptly.

"I know what I like, too. and the things I like? I put through their paces. I must ensure that my respect has not been misplaced. but I think you realize just how valuable that is, yes? because you..." he chuckles, hand walking up her arm, drawing ever nearer, "have been so eager to please, that it hardly seems necessary. now, that is something indeed."

"yet I have been left wondering if you have it in you to be as bold as you are kind. have you not waited long enough to show me? I assure you, you needn't have," then there is warmth — the warmth of a shared space with only a hair's breadth left to divide. cheek to cheek, nose to nose. the play itself, now but dim noise in the back of faba's meddlesome mind, "viens ici."

[raelium]

@intriguant

The sinister snilers.

[intriguant]

thinking a lot about how faba was a grown ass man before he ever captured a pokemon for himself. like, 30, maybe 25 at the absolute youngest. it really puts into perspective just how low on his priority list training is. brother is a trainer out of obligation and necessity but he has NO love for the game.

[electronicmail]

oh ew is that really what i sowed? eww omigod i am NOT reaping that

[intriguant]

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