toxic city big sis

[vaememes]

SEND A HEART FOR A SPECIFIC KISS.

Send ❤️ for a romantic kiss. Send 💝 for a plationic kiss. Send 💞 for a awkward kiss. Send 💓 for a heated kiss. Send 💟 for a delicate kiss. Send 💔 for a interrupted kiss. Send 💘 for a static shock kiss. Send 💗 for a repetitive lip peck kiss.

[ofhotheads-blog]

Send my muse “👀 + a question” and they’ll have to answer with 100% honesty.

No deleting questions, either!

[sisbane-blog]

moonlight mother / plumeria & lane

[sisbane-blog]

skullposse:

Just the sound of the man’s sneakers wracked shudders throughout Lane’s entire body. He gave a sharp gasp, his eyes restricting and shrinking down smaller, smaller, smaller still as they focused in on the sight of him, clearer, until it was undeniable – those same bloody red eyes peered out from the shadows cast by the sun beating over the sunless dark alleyways, his scowl clenched between jaws like iron. He was furious as his eyes captured Lane’s, stayed with him, glared at him through his heart and into the very soul of his fear shivering his body stiff and terrified. He remembered that look well; it was the same look that bore down on him the night Lane refused him. It was the same look that bore into him when his eyes had shrunken down in his hatred of Lane, when he’d pushed him up against the wall, gripped his fingertips like vices around his shoulders that he’d kill him – he’d fucking kill him for getting him fired that night two months later. It was a look he’d only seen in the briefest flashes of the moments where Chad was at his worst – where he was so close, so close, one swift motion and one single grip around Lane would’ve left him helpless, helpless, gasping for air until the life would’ve been choked out of him – and this was certainly the third of these incidences. 

But he was far away now – far, far away – keeping his distance at the end of the alley, the faintest of light trickling across his back and casting his face in an unreadable shadow, his eyes wide and lip twitching slightly at the sight of the two of them. And what a sight it was, familiar and all, just as the night was when Chad was thrown out – his expression, the same; Lane’s fear and his cower, all the same; Plumeria, standing tall as a wall of protection between the two of them, the same. All the same, as though they were still in the same Po Town foyer where it had all happened the very, very first time. Chad kept his distance, so it was only Plumeria now who would close it, and how she did – of course she would – walking straight up to the man with the same unshakable resolve that she was always known to have, standing tall and standing proud, invulnerable, as Lane was never able to be.

And it was that sort of power, that pride, that stance, that Chad despised. Lane’s vulnerability – his fear, his terror, his tolerance, his kindness – that was exploitable; that was easy for him. But Plumeria would not falter; she wouldn’t quiver under his gaze nor his size. She stood right up to him and puffed herself up bigger than him, stronger than him. It wouldn’t matter how much Chad would fight and fight against her – she would fight back, and keep fighting, just as Lane would not. That sucker punch of his was sheer instinct alone; fear alone. It was the fight of his fight or flight – a fluke, and nothing more. Plumeria, though? She would fight because she’d want to beat him down; she’d want to punish him – and it was that sort of power in herself that made Chad back up a step, then another, then another. He skinned his teeth. He looked away. He muttered to himself, cursed to himself, but his demeanor was finally different. In those months before, it had been Plumeria who tore Chad away from Lane; her power beside, her strength was obvious. She could take him if she tried; Chad may have more muscle, but Plumeria was scrappier; she was faster. Chad hit harder, but Plumes knew where to hit. She had enough grip and enough will to dig her heels in the hardwood floor and keep Chad in his fucking place when all he’d wanted to do was claw his way out of her grip and go for Lane’s throat until Guzma had shown up. And if he hadn’t? She would’ve beaten him down anyway, without Guzma, in her own way.

His demeanor was finally different; he was terrified of her. He gave his hardest glare back to match her own, but something was weak about it. The foundation of his strength was crumbling when someone could finally matching him, pound per pound. His glare skipped over her – over to something easier – and he flexed his gaze at Lane, his eyes watching back at Chad cautiously, carefully. He still shuddered at the sight of Chad, but something about his own demeanor was different now. Lane was among people now – people who cared; people he could talk to. Just as he was with Skull, around his brothers and sisters who he could talk to and laugh with, he was stronger now. Despite his cower, his involuntary shudder, Lane could’ve fought Chad himself – right then and there. Chad was weak now; Chad was cowering at the sight of them. He gave a ‘tsk,’ looking between the two of them, giving a grumble and a roll-of-the-eye.

Fuck this.

He gave his weakest, hard glare he could at the two of them, meaningless and pathetic – an attempt to save face, before turning around and disappearing into the swallowing darkness of the alleyway. And Lane stood there, his fingers clenched into the fabric of Plumeria’s crop top, stunned. Chad – did he just… leave? Yes… Yes, he must have; left, and wasn’t coming back, so long as Plumeria was there beside him; so long as somebody was there beside him. Yes; it was just as last time, and the time before. Each time, Lane had been saved by the presence of somebody – anybody – coming along and telling Chad that enough was fucking enough. Anyone, anyone, had more power in their step and their voice than Lane ever would, and anyone’s passing glance would make Chad shudder. He was… a coward, Lane realized. A goddamn fucking coward – and he wouldn’t be coming back. Not anytime soon.

He loosened his grip on Plumeria’s clothes, stepping out from behind her to catch the last glimpses of Chad’s shadow, fading, fading away. It wasn’t coming back. He wasn’t coming back, and even if he was stupid enough to, Plumeria’s sucker punch would be faster than any sort of hook or jab he could try to throw out as a fucking cheap shot. No – he was… gone. Lane breathed a sigh of relief, shuddering as he was, choppy and ragged against his quelling panic. Silent tears fell down his eyes. He buried his face in his hands, his broken-up voice spilling out between the gaps of his fingers, indistinguishable between a sob or a gasp as he let himself fall to a squat.

But he was laughing. He was laughing. He wrapped his arms around himself and he laughed and he laughed and he took in deep gulps of air to keep on laughing, smiling till his cheeks hurt and stung, till his chest hurt, till he took in big sniffles and was able to laugh and sound like laughing, giggling in his voice so sweet and gentle. “Thank you, Plumes…” he could finally murmur in a voice that sounded like himself, “thank you… so much… fer that… y-y’saved me out there, sis. Y’saved me. H-Here, here, lemme –” He gathered himself up from his squat to pick up the bags Plumeria dropped, offering them to her to make up for it. Once he returned them, he scratched the back of his head, awkwardly. After all, he hadn’t seen Plumeria in months – not since Skull dissolved. Not since it all fell apart and he had to leave the happiest moments of his life behind. “Sorry I… I interrupted… whaddever it was you were doin’… b-but, um… how ya been…? It’s… been a while. Too long, I’d say.”

"Yeah, you better fuckin' run -- "

The words hissed from between Plumeria's closed lips as she watched the other scramble away from her. This was what marked the difference between an admin and a grunt. The power she'd held next to Guzma had elevated her status from punk to someone untouchable; it truly helped that she was a good caretaker. She knew all of her grunts' names, personalities, strengths, weaknesses -- while she kept her own secrets safe. Of course anyone attempting to go up against her would be nervous if they knew she knew such things with such intimacy. 

Not to mention the beating Guzma and she had orchestrated on Chad when word got out about what he'd done. That was probably the main reason he was running now, honestly -- but Plumeria didn't care about the specifics. Either way, it was a pleasure to see the fiend run.

Glancing away from him to the boy clinging to her shirt, Plumeria sighed just the slightest. "Aw, Lane," the ex-admin said, and her voice dissolved from its rough angular tone to one filled with regret. Team Skull had punished him, but not enough. That was what made the regret stay in Plumeria's voice. That they hadn't punished Chad enough for him to stay away for longer. 

She knew about Chad, of course. The boy had been after Lane in a sexual way. There were people like that, sometimes, in disreputable gangs -- people who fell away from the rest of society with their perverse notions of right and wrong. Mistakenly they thought that, just because gang activity wasn't as straightforward as an office job, it meant anarchy. That simply was not true. In a group where everyone was broken, lonely, difficult ... it was especially important to keep the rules strict so it didn't devolve into chaos. Chad had broken one of the most -- if not the most important rule -- keep your damn hands to yourself ...

There was nothing but disgust at the thought of that one for Plumeria. She'd never particularly liked him, even before the incident with Lane; the offender had always been boorish and crude, even for her standards. Seeing the fiend's eyes light up with fear had been satisfying, even for Plumes. She just didn't have time for a shit heap like that.

And neither did Lane. Turning her attention to the boy that slowly released her shirt, Plumeria began to relax a bit. Her aura just the minute before had been scary, but it softened now. In fact, her shoulders began to shake a bit as she joined Lane in his laughter. She'd always liked Lane's laughter; it was bubbly and messy, but undeniably sweet. Kind of like a child.

 "Stupid idiot fuck, and not in a cute way." Plumeria nodded her chin sharply in the general direction that Chad had fled in. "If I didn't save you just now, I'm sure Arceus would have struck him down one way or another. Those guys are bound to meet their karmic end somehow. Don't worry about it." 

Plumeria took one of the grocery bags that Lane had picked up for her. Some of the fruits from the bag had spilt onto the cement, and she picked them up. "Ay, it's been a while. I was just food shopping." The threat had passed, and Plumeria returned to a less imposing boss stance; not a grand mama bear anymore, but still grand. She pointed at the other in Lane's hand. "Mind if you help me out? They're a bit heavy. I was gonna cook for the kids back at home. I bought malasada, rotisserie chicken, cottage cheese, expensive ass stuff for my dumb ass kids. You know how it goes."

Plumeria's cooking ... well, it was experimental for her. She had her good and bad days. Despite the fact that she'd been feeding her brother since she herself was a child, and then feeding Team Skull once she joined, her cooking wasn't the best. She had the basics down because she'd worked at it often, but her cooking didn't have any particular motherly taste. It was a pity, and something she slightly regretted, but only slightly. She didn't particularly enjoy cooking. She just did it because it needed to be done. 

"Why don't you join us for dinner?" Plumeria picked up another apple from the ground, blowing the dust off it. "You miss big sis Plumes' cooking, right?" Her voice took a jokingly threatening tone at the last word, and she laughed. Then she sobered, remembering the state of the mansion. Lane had left for Melemele Island, just as most of Team Skull had, but the kids left behind had nowhere else to go. As a result, it was always a bit sad around the mansion -- a group of kids that had no place except a lonely abandoned house. Po Town had always looked decrepit, but now it was just pitiful.

"A lot of the ones back at the mansion wouldn't mind having you there, either. You were always a friendly one, huh, Lane. They'd love your company. Me too, of course." Plumeria bit into the apple that she'd blown the dust off of. It was sweet and just a bit tangy. "And we can catch up. I have no clue how you've been. But you look good, and well fed."

Never mind the encounter that had just happened. Plumeria brushed it aside -- it was already history. "You got a job or something? I'm proud of you."

[sventovid]

[breakmyheartwithlyrics]

Fall Out Boy- Novocaine

[sisbane-blog]

nya-ock knock / plumeria & nanu

[sisbane-blog]

retiredhire:

Last year, if Nanu had been told that he’d become a good friend to a decent amount of Team Skull’s members, he would have laughed. He’d come to live at Po Town to keep an eye on a concerning trend of kids flocking to Guzma for protection and strength. He never hated any of them, as a majority of grunts knew who they were dealing with when it came to Nanu. He didn’t bother them all too much if they stayed relatively in the lines, but he didn’t take their shit lying down, either. But in recent months, after Skull had all but gone, he’d become closely acquainted with quite a few former members.

It had started with Guzma, but Plumeria was no stranger either. They’d known each other as long as Nanu and Guzma had been acquainted, meeting some time after Guzma’s Team Skull had been founded. She was a bit of an enigma to Nanu, a woman who seemed to have her shit together so much more than anyone else on the team. It wasn’t difficult to take notice of how she tended to her fellow members, and Nanu respected her presence somewhat for being so in control of her subordinates. But something had changed after Team Skull was disbanded.

Plumeria had come to him some time after Guzma had broken up the group. She wanted to become a better Trainer now that Guzma and Skull were gone. She trusted him to help her in this, to teach her what he knew about training. Nanu, more than anything else, felt deep respect. She was improving herself. That wasn’t always easy to find in people. And from there, the two had come to know each other more personally. It became more and more common for her to come and visit him at Po Town Station to chat with him. It was nice, he had to admit.

The day was overwhelmingly typical for the area around Po Town. Rainy, quiet as hell, and the consistent, pattering sound of rain was only occasionally broken up by the cries of nearby wild Pokemon. Nanu never minded any of it. There was a knock at his door, and soon the voice of Plumeria could be heard through it. ‘Tutu’, she called him now. He’d never say anything about it, but he liked the name. Hearing it made Nanu let out a brief chuckle as he listened to her continue. Advice, eh? Well, he’d see what he could do. Before he could even think of opening the door, Plumeria opened the door herself. Wasn’t she a forward one? Not that it really mattered to him. Why waste time if she knew they’d be talking? He’d either be standing at the door or he’d remain sitting there on the couch. Either way the same thing would probably happen.

“Snacks? I’m sold,” Nanu began dryly. He gestured for her to enter. “Come on over here. Since you already opened the door ‘nd all.” Persian lifted her head sleepily and mewed in the direction of Plumeria. She had become familiar with Plumeria enough to greet her whenever she dropped by, so familiar that she didn’t feel the need to actually get up. “And I won’t make any promises about having good answers for your questions, but I got nothing better to do, so lay them on me.”

The welcome sound of Nanu's voice greeted her ears, as well as the plaintive mew of a certain Persian. The tips of Plumeria's lips lift at the sound. It had been a while since she'd stopped by. 

The ex-admin walked casually in. The bag of snacks she held made a rustling noise as she walked and she moved immediately to the Persian. After all, you had to greet the homeowner first. (Joke..!) Giving the Persian a biscuit, she rubbed the cat pokemon between the ears before straddling into a chair opposite of Nanu on the couch. 

Plumeria waved two fingers in greeting and leaned forward into the chair's backside. "Good, you're here. Well, I was thinking of repainting the mansion roof..."

She'd never been good at pretenses. "Actually, I dunno, I've been having some. Thoughts. Lately." Plumeria let out a short sigh. "You know how Guzma up and suddenly disappeared a few months ago? Yeah, well. It's about that."

She hadn't talked to anyone about this before. His disappearance had been cruel to her, no doubt about that, but Plumeria wasn't the type to complain about it in front of others, especially not those that needed her. So the underlings left in the mansion wouldn't have heard a peep of this from Plumeria. And besides, this was something only people with responsibility over others would know, but -- there's always a certain pressure in leading others. You can't falter, you can't show your heart on your sleeve, or others would call you weak. It was a struggle she knew Guzma had dealt with privately -- rather, they'd helped each other on that front. With Guzma gone, Plumeria had many regrets and worries locked away in the storebox of her heart.

It had been bearable for a few months. After all, Plumeria was tough by nature..! But she'd been feeling the pressure. Every time the remaining few at the mansion talked about Guzma, about how they missed him, it stabbed deep into her heart. She hurt as much as they did, but she was the only one who couldn't speak on it. Not to anyone. 

So that was the real reason she'd come over.

She knew Nanu had been close to Guzma. Or well, as close as the police and a disruptive gang could get, she supposed. Nanu had always been there. He was also a steady presence in her life. In a way, his presence was reassuring to her in a way that only he could be. The slight distance in their relationship maintained boundaries in a way that made her implicitly trust him.

And on a personal level, she liked him a lot -- she liked anyone who could be cynical while also tickling the underside of a Persian's chin.

"I just, I miss him so much, tutu. You'd think it was silly the way I mope around. But it feels like my heart's been shovelled out of my ribcage. You know?"

She rubbed her cheek a bit, self-conscious. Surely, Nanu had no idea of what to think of this. But just being able to say something already relieved a bit of the heavy burden on her chest. "Sorry. As soon as I walk in, I brush my worries off on you. You've always been good to Team Skull, Nanu. I know that."

[sisbane-blog]

exeggutor of a man / guzma & plumes

[sisbane-blog]

skullboi:

      Guzma tossed the rock from one hand to another, feeling its weight and balance between his fingers and thumb.   He had a pile of similar-looking rocks at his feet, flat and flawless, perfect for stone skipping; they were all as hard and smooth as Zadkiel’s carapace.  He’d scoured the beach for them, eager to get his mind off the usual shit that plagued him. He searched until his hands were as red and raw as his scars; but even then he wasn’t satisfied. Today’s thoughts were no different. He’d staved them off by a stream of curses and listening to Phanuel’s gentle buzzing.

        He flung the rock out into the ocean.  It was a calculated throw, something he’d done countless times before.  A sharp angle, no more than 20 degrees, and a perfect flick of the wrist sent the rock soaring over the water, plunking on to the waves and bouncing away from the shore. It sank after six skips.  Guzma frowned and tried again.  Four bounces.  With each failed attempt, the Masquerain chittered her dissent and flew out over the waters as if to follow the rocks beneath the waves.  He skipped another rock.  This time it didn’t skip at all.

        His fury exploded all at once.  “You fuckin’—useless—piece of shit!” he yelled, kicking his pile of rocks and sending them rocketing in every direction.  Guzma scooped up several retreating rocks and hurled them into the water, the scars on his shoulders straining and threatening to tear apart with every movement. He shouted more curses, each more colorful than the last.  When his rocks were all spent, his body burned with the heat of Wela volcano’s fires.  Phanuel flittered from her space over the water and landed on his head.  Her small feet grasped at his hair.  Guzma heaved a sigh.

         “This is jus’ fuckin’ swell, ain’t it, Phan?  Thinks Pops’r Hala’d be proud of their boy?” he asked her.  His Pokémon twittered in response.  “Yeah, din’t think so.”  Guzma shoved his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, moving into the familiar slouch he’d grown so used to over the years.  The ocean lapped at his dirty white Nikes.

        He’d skipped another day of so-called training.  When Hala scolded him, Guzma yelled in response and stormed out of Iki Town. He didn’t need any of that bullshit—he could go back to doing whatever and be just fine.  As if he’d ever be seen as anything other than the fuckup that fucked up, the big, bad, hated former boss of Team Skull.  He scowled, his slouch becoming more pronounced, and focused on the rise and fall of the ocean’s waves.

        “Guzma!” The shout broke through the silence like a knife.

        The voice was familiar to him.  His heart sunk—Plumeria couldn’t be here.  He didn’t want her to be here.  Didn’t want to see her.  Didn’t want her to see him.  But if this was her, she’d come, and there was no stopping her.  Guzma turned around to find his Plumes stomping through the deep sand towards him, her face contorted and angry.  “Guzma—you—absolute—you bug-eating—sweltering—Exeggutor of a man—”

        He only had enough time to notice she’d ditched her Team Skull gear in favor of threads that resembled Sala, her Salazzle.  “Plumes—” he managed, but Plumeria was upon him like a storm.

        “How dare you leave us like that?” she yelled, grabbing the front of his shirt and pulling him down to her when he tried to take a step back.  Phanuel flew off his head and twittered in alarm, buzzing around them in frantic circles. When she yelled at him, her words were like venom, curdling his blood and leaving them there to rot.  Anger flashed in Plumeria’s gold eyes.  And when she called him a coward, Guzma couldn’t speak.

        She didn’t understand, or at least that’s what he’d told himself.  It wasn’t his choice to disband Skull—it was Nanu’s. The old cop made him do it.  But he couldn’t say it.  Plumeria yelled again and still he didn’t say a word. She let out an irritated huff and let him go, shoving him away from her, disgusted.  “You’re the boss, ain’t you?” she cried. “Where’ve you fucking been?”

        Guzma didn’t want this.  He’d gone to Kala’e Bay to get away from all this emotional shit.  First Lane, and now Plumes.  Who’d show up in his life next, Kukui?  He grimaced at the thought.  “I tol’ ya—I ain’t yer fuckin’ boss no more,” Guzma replied, his voice just as nasty as Plumeria’s had been.  They’d been close once, but that was in another life.  Nanu wanted him to break all his old ties with Skull, and that was exactly what he was going to do.  Even if it killed him to do it.

        He made himself sneer.  “Ya think I care ‘bout that shitheap?  That I cared ‘bout those fuckers an’ all th’ mouths my money had t’ feed?  Yeah, Plumes, I’ll get right on that.”  He laughed bitterly.  “Don’t fuckin’ think so.  I left ‘cos I din’t want t’ be ‘round fuckin’ crybabies no more.”  He should have deleted all her messages.  He should have removed her as a contact.  But he couldn’t bring himself to do it, just like he couldn’t bring himself to do a lot of things.

        Plumeria glowered at him.  She showed no inclination to move.  His lies weren’t working.  He tried a different approach.  “Skull’s dead an’ it ain’t never comin’ back.  Go find yer own shit t’ do, an’ leave me outta it.  Or din’t ya not realize when I ignored yer texts?”  Guzma stood to his full height and stared down at his former admin.  Rip it off just like a band-aid.  “I don’t need yer shit no more, Plumes.  Jus’ go back home an’ leave me th’ fuck alone.”

        He’s lying again.  He’d never felt lonelier, save for all those years ago, when he was a kid and a boy named Cukes was his best friend.  And then he met Plumes.  I hope you’re happy, Pops.

Did he think that she forgot all of their adventures together?

That face she saw in front of her right now -- those eyes, that nose, those lips --was the one she’d dreamed of, constantly. Nightmares, sometimes -- when he would turn into some freaky Ultra Beast, and gobble her whole. But mostly ones about their past together. Innocuous memories, like him giving her a potato to peel in the kitchen, or them dancing and rapping together with the grunts, or them sitting next to each other on top of the roof, underneath the stars.

They were painful fucking dreams. And here he was, in front of her. She noticed the deep grooves underneath his eyes. The tiredness. The expression on his face, so different from the one she remembered well. He looked... tired...

He was the head of her family, of their family, all of it. He’d created something she had never had in her life, really, before that point. Sure, she’d helped, but it was him who started the gang, and helped the others, and he fit so neatly into the role of the leader, because he’d carved it out specifically for him -- he was the best at his job.

Did he think that, because he left, all of those memories -- all of that -- was just dogshit? That it evaporated, like mist? That he could take back all those actions with a simple disappearing act -- like, hey, presto, the magic rabbit is gone and you’d imagined it all along...?

His words cut into her like a knife.

"Hey. Hey. I know that's a lie, but don't fuckin' say that." And she did know it was a lie. It absolutely had to be. Otherwise, the other things, everything else in her life that she’d treasured, was a lie as well. For the first time in a very long time, she could feel her entire body waver, from the very core of her being upwards. Plumeria’s voice was shaky. Of course it was. She was shaking as if recovering from a cold, as people do, to purge themselves of sickness.

"Don't fucking say those things, okay? Didn't your mother ever tell you, if you keep repeating lies, they'll eventually come true?!" Her hands were clenched into fists, and trembling. If Guzma had just told her he didn’t care about Team Skull -- then it would have been easier to brush it aside as a simple lie. After all, the Guzma she’d knew would have never tricked those kids. He was practically a father to them -- money, or not -- as if Guzma had ever cared much about money! It would have enough to make her scoff. But with his remark about the texts, Plumeria felt the foundation of her belief in him waver for just a second, and she hated herself for it.

Could it be that he actually... that he had actually... that he had strung her along, just like every other important person in her life... and thrown her out, just the way they had...?

“No!” Violently, Plumeria yelled, as that would erase the notion from her head. And then she pushed him. Hard. It was an unconscious movement, something that accompanied the need to erase that evil thought from her head, no, she needed to believe in Guzma, otherwise it meant that he truly had betrayed her --

-- and the water behind him was full, rising. They were at the shore, the water a couple of feet below them, and Guzma was falling.

Oh, fuck! Plumeria’s alarm spiked the moment she saw Guzma falling backwards into the water. She glanced, panicked, at Phanuel, then jumped without hesitation into the water beside him. 

He’d looked tired. Guzma had looked so, so tired when he’d replied to her, and that image flashed in Plumeria’s mind as she dove in after him. A million things that she hadn’t said floated to the top of her chest as she swam. The things she’d wanted to say but had repressed and stowed away while he was gone. Are you well? Have you eaten? You look sick, G. What’s wrong..? You can tell me. You know I won’t tell nobody.

Sick ... And as Plumeria floated above the water, she couldn’t help the hot tears that sprung to her eyes. They fell independently, drip drip, down her face, as if she’d been holding them back. She glanced about the surface of the water. “Guzma, where are you? Sorry. That was a fuckin’ mistake. I lost my temper. You know how it is. Are you okay...?”

[aetherxparadise-blog]

Buying Some Respect || Greyson & Plumeria

[sisbane-blog]

aetherxparadise:

Greyson chuckled to himself while listening to the other complain about her Pokemon. From afar, it looked obvious by the female’s frustration that the Muk didn’t usually listen to her. But from close up and hearing the complaint, Muk wasn’t usually like that. He rubbed his chin in thought. In Unova, and other regions outside of Alola, when a Pokemon doesn’t listen to their trainer, it meant that the trainer did not have the correct number of badges. However, in Alola, that wasn’t the case.

“I don’t want to tell you how to train, or how to act towards your Pokemon, but perhaps if you didn’t call them names?” The male finally said, breaking his train of thought. “Pokemon have feelings as well. and they usually don’t appreciate the name calling.” Greyson went silent again. He was thinking of ways to help the other train, however, the decision was totally up to her. “And feeding and polishing his Pokeball won’t help. Much. You need to spoil them in love, and show them that you care for them.”

After more thinking, Greyson had an idea. “I have an idea. How about we train together? We can have a Pokemon battle, if you’re interested, before our training to get our Pokemon used to each other.”

He grabbed a Pokeball that was attached to his belt and opened it. The Pokemon, a Stoutland, appeared next to him wagging its tiny tail. “Looks like my Stoutland wants to help as well.”

A slight feeling of shame swept over Plumeria when he pointed out that she'd been calling Mu-Mu names. It was what she was used to. She'd always been rough with her Pokemon, and the rest of her Skull family; it was just the way she showed affection... But perhaps it was time for her to change such habits. Especially if she planned on winning the league.

True enough, she couldn't quite imagine the precocious champion, even at their young age, call their Pokemon 'a pile of stink'. And, well, Plumeria had to be at least as good as the champion. She cleared her throat.

"Sounds great." Accepting the other's proposal, Plumeria shoved her bandana up her head a bit; it had been drooping over her eyes. She moved back a bit, so that there was an area between herself and the samitarian. She noted with a slight relief that, even though she herself wasn't doing so well on the training front, the day itself was perfect weather for it. Sunny, with a slight breeze. It was quite nice. 

"C'mon, Mu-Mu." Plumeria's voice was gruff, but she softened it just a tad, as she gestured to the area between herself and the man. "I know you're in a mood today, but let's try a battle, alright? Okay?" 

The muk turned its attention to the makeshift battlefield, shuffling towards battle position. After all, even if the muk didn’t quite like training, he was always up for a good battle, and the opportunity to crush opponents...!

"Er, what's your name?" Plumeria called, hesitantly, to the man on the other side. Would he recognize her if she spoke her name aloud? Team Skull had caused quite a ruckus just a few months prior. But not introducing herself wasn't her style either; she wanted to be on equal terms with this well-meaning man.

"I'm, uh, you can call me Plumes." 

[mattmahder]

“Run Run Blood” by Phantogram http://ift.tt/2at8KML

[sisbane-blog]

moonlight mother / plumeria & lane

[sisbane-blog]

As she'd thought, it was Lane. Of course she would recognize him; she'd sat down and had meals with the boy, laughed with the boy, they'd talked multiple times. She knew, just a bit, about his crush on G. She was intuitive like that. The way Lane had followed their boss not just with his eyes, but with his big big soul ...

And here was was in her arms, and oh, oh god, the boy was shaking. He was terrified. 

Instinctively, she cupped his head with her hands and brought him close to her chest, embracing him protectively. She could feel his trembling beneath her. This boy who'd been a stupid, adorable fool during dinner was trembling in pain and fear. The poor boy's words were wracked with shivers and it was difficult to understand, but Plumeria could tell exactly what he was saying.

Her arms wrapped around Lane, hugging him tight, a thick barrier against any evils in the alleyway. "Is that boy nearby?" Her voice was low. Anger for her was sometimes explosive, but sometimes it simmered. It was simmering now. "I said, is that boy nearby. What kind of fucking fool does he -- "

Plumeria caught sight of a shadow behind Lane, further down the alley. She let go of Lane, gently, still letting him cling to her, and she held his hand. She was still here for him, but she needed to punish --

She marched forward to meet him. Chad was exactly as she remembered him. He'd always had a brain like arbok piss, and it showed in that dumb, dumb expression of his, eyebrows furrowed with anger that he couldn't understand himself. Plumeria drew herself up. She wasn't small by any means -- perhaps a bit smaller than Chad -- and her righteous fury drew her up like a blaze of fire. She looked... big. Despite that he was taller than her, it seemed as though Plumeria were looking down upon him.

"You fucker," she said in a menacing voice. "Didn't G tell you to buzz off our crew? Don't you goddamn think you can show your face around here, just cus he ain't around. I'm still kickin'. I'm fillin' in while he's away." Walking closer, her hand slipped from Lane's and clenched into a fist that she positioned threateningly right below Chad's chin, just above his adam's apple.

"You're not a part of nothin' no more. Not after you pulled those disgusting stunts. You're no teammate. You're no friend."

There was venom in her voice as she spat the statement out. She wasn't equipped for a battle at the moment, but she was always equipped for a fight, and a fistfight was the least of it.

"You're just a disgusting pig. Leave Lane alone, you ugly piece of shit."

[pokemon-channel]

"I heard somethin' about a prize?" Plumeria rubbed her arm sheepishly. Perhaps her luck wasn't so bad after all.

The surprised winner knocked on the door, and DJ Mary bounded over to greet her.  She smiled hugely and welcomed the tall woman inside.  “I’m so glad you’re here!” she gushed, grabbing Plumeria’s hand and bringing her over to where a Mienfoo sat meditating.  “Your adopting Mienfoo here is a prize in itself.  I know you will love him; he’s grown on all of us here at the station.”

He opened one eye to glance at them warily.  Mary lowered her voice so that Mienfoo wouldn’t hear.  “He’s been through a lot, this one.  He came from a place where he was expected to fight, sometimes to the death.  He’s got more than just the scars you see on his fur… so he really needs a good Trainer to look after him.”  Mary wiped a tear from her eye.  “Could you do that for me?  Please?  Someone has to look after him.”

One restless fighter for one patient sister.

[sisbane-blog]

While Mary was talking, the Mienfoo gave Plumeria a stern, defensive gaze; this was the look of one who trusted nobody. She met it steadily. She knew that stare all too well. Her eyes traveled down to his body; the Mienfoo’s yellow fur was scarred with deep ropes that split his fur, revealing the recovering skin underneath. Oh.

The Mienfoo stared defiantly at Plumeria, as if he could communicate with her, testing her, daring her to come even one step closer. He didn’t need her help. He definitely didn’t need her love.

Plumeria suddenly felt her chest ache.

“’Course I will,” she said, her voice a mixture of confused emotions. She didn’t attempt to pick up the Mienfoo just yet; instead she grabbed the pokeball laying nearby. The Mienfoo disappeared in a flash of red and Plumeria crossed her arms, looking up at Mary with a slight expression of conflict, before finally settling on something more bored -- and regular.

“Hmph. No cash prizes?”

[sisbane-blog]

sunlight jamboree / plumes & keke

@alolantxt​

Plumeria had been spending a lot of time on Melemele Island as of late. It’s a nice change of pace compared to the other islands. Melemele had an air of comfort and calm that kept Plumeria coming back, despite the fact that it was more or less a beginner’s island in terms of the battles. Nevertheless, the scent of the breeze in Melemele was fresh and clear, and it was peaceful. Plumeria wouldn’t verbally admit such a thing, but being at peace with nature calmed her nerves.

This was especially true of Route 2. This wasn’t a remote part of the island, but it was between Hau’oli City and the Verdant Cavern, which meant there was a lot of wildlife. It was ideal for taking a walk, in Plumeria’s opinion, because the view of the ocean was especially nice.

So Plumeria was walking through Route 2 when she heard an unusual rustling sound. It wasn’t the sound of a Pokemon, because she knew that sound. She looked around – and to her surprise, it was a girl. Her brown skin looked matte in the sunlight, and her long hair flowed down her back like a waterfall. 

And she danced. It was an unusual sight, to see someone dancing barefoot in the grass. The girl’s movements were light, hypnotic even, and Plumeria just stood there for a while, watching. When there was an eventual pause in the girl’s dancing, the ex admin walked over, hands in her pockets.

“H-hey, what are you doing over here?”

Plumeria’s expression was veiled, a little bashful, as she gave the girl a stern glare. She was curious about the girl and the beautiful patterns her feet made in the grass. Not to mention, she looked quite fair. Plumeria tilted her chin, trying not to look too soft while still admitting her admiration for the gestures she’d witnessed. When she spoke, her tone of voice is unusually subdued and respectful.

“That’s a neat dance, girlie. I mean. It’s cool. Hmph... What are you doing dancing out here?”

[sisbane-blog]

nya-ock knock / plumeria & nanu

@retiredhire

Plumeria is not the typically the type to ask for advice. She’s stormed through life using her own wits and self-knowledge, doing what needs to be done step-by-step, through trial and error. But there are a few problems that, no matter how much she racks her brain, a second opinion is needed. For example, which color of paint she should use while repainting the balcony of the Po Town mansion. Beige...? Or off-white...? 

So here she is, at the front of his door, biscuits in hand. 

Usually the old kahuna is here, anyway. “Ay tutu,” Plumeria calls, rapping on his door once, twice. Affectionately she calls him grandpa, as she’d gotten used to in the past few months. Is he home? Her knocks are harsh against the wood. “I got some questions for you. And they’re like, not the easy kind. Help a girl out, okay?” 

The questions on her mind aren’t actually difficult – obviously. It’s been a few weeks since the last time she’s visited, so she’s really just looking for an excuse to drop by. Nanu had always been at the same stride as Team Skull, even if not on the same side. When the rest of Alola turned their backs on them, Nanu looked for the kids. It was a relationship that showed appearances of being combative – an officer and a gang – but Nanu is someone Plumeria respects, and deeply.

When there’s no immediate response, she turns the knob herself and lets herself in. Manners have nothing on this bad girl. Plumeria shakes the bag of Poke’Biscuits she’d brought, peeking tentatively into the kahuna’s living space.

“I brought snacks.”

[aetherxparadise-blog]

Buying Some Respect || Greyson & Plumeria

After a very long week of working at the Aether House, the male decided it was time to take a personal day off and relax. Inside his room, he changed out of his Aether uniform and changed into more relaxing clothes; a tank, shorts, and a pair of tennis shoes. The employee left his room, told another employee he was going out, and left the Aether building to explore the beach.

There wasn’t many trainers on the route, which made his job that more relaxing. They looked strong enough, in his eyes, that the other trainers didn’t need his help. With his new found glory of freedom for the day, Greyson picked a spot on the beach near the water’s front and laid down; the warm sand relaxing him even more. He could lay there all day, and not worry about missing a thing.

Unfortunately, that all changed when he heard someone, a trainer maybe, in the distance. He sat up and listened a lot more carefully. To Greyson, they sounded disappointed. He could tell, from the way they commanded their Pokemon, the trainer was in kind of trouble. An opportunity he shouldn’t miss. He got up from his spot and brushed off whatever sand was sticking to his clothes.

After following the distant voice, Greyson found the trainer, her Pokemon, a Muk, and a wild Pokemon. From where he was standing, the Muk didn’t really listen that well to its command and lofted off. A short time later, the wild Pokemon ran away and the male made his appearance.

“It looks like you may need some help?” He asked her, walking into her view.

[sisbane-blog]

Mu-Mu wasn’t listening to her. They’d come out to Route 15 to train a bit, but the Muk absolutely wasn’t having it. This had happened a few times already, primarily after they’d begun training to take on the league. They’d lost a few battles, and since then, the Muk had been finicky with his actions in battle. Plumeria had mostly been able to calm him down enough to continue battling. But today…

The former skull admin had on a light bomber jacket and a trucker hat. The weather wasn’t at all chilly, but she liked wearing such things while training. It made it harder for anyone to recognize her, Skull or not. Training was difficult, and sometimes she failed at it -- something she didn’t want to display to anyone if she could help it. Indeed, Plumeria stomped in frustration as the Raticate they’d been battling scuttled away.

“Ugh.” She let a sound of indignance leave her lips. A man in a tank and shorts approached her, apparently drawn by the sound of her struggles.

“It looks like you may need some help?” he asked. Like a friendly neighborhood passerby.

Plumeria crossed her arms, unable to keep her annoyance to herself. “Huh, this little pile of stink won’t do as I say. I keep saying, try laying low and dodging, but he keeps attacking. Or not attacking. He’s moody today.” Her lips were pulled down into a vexed frown, eyes carrying a bit of sulk about the fact that she wasn’t good enough for her Muk to answer to. “He’s being a little shit. We just let that Raticate go because he decided to ignore me instead of battling, like I told him to.” 

She looked up at the stranger. “I don’t know why he’s acting like this. I’m good to him. I feed him and polish his goddamn pokeball. He’s being spoiled.” Mu-Mu groaned cheerfully next to her, moving his big sludgy arms onto the ground as if in laughter. The former skull admin scowled and gave her Muk a glare. “I don’t deserve this.” 

On closer inspection, the stranger was a regular looking joe, with short cut sable hair, a little taller than she. He had the type of demeanor that made you feel okay about confessing Pokemon troubles. He’d offered to help, hadn’t he? And right at such an opportune moment too. Plumeria decided it was worth asking him his opinion.

She put her hands into the pockets of her jacket and leaned back a little to watch her Muk warily. “What d’you... suppose is the problem?”

[sisbane-blog]

moonlight mother / plumeria & lane

@skullposse

Plumeria hums a little tune as she walks.

Two plastic bags hang from her hands, full with quality ingredients from the Hau’oli Mall. She’d gotten a nice fat paycheck from challenging other trainers near the league. It surprises her every time she battles well, and she’s both proud and embarrassed by her progress. It’s unusual for her to feel so proud of herself. And since she’d gotten some money, she’d figured it was a good opportunity for her to treat her cute lil ex-henchmen at Po Town. 

There weren’t very many kids left hanging around at the mansion anymore, which just meant she’d had to get something just as good to compensate for the absence. Mostly the ones who could hold down a bearing elsewhere had already gone. Living at Po Town had become a marker of societal disgrace in Alola. Not that it wasn’t before, but back when the Team had been in full bloom nobody would question them; it was part of their shtick to rebel. Nowadays there weren’t nothin’ for Team Skull members. Hell, the team had been disbanded, which meant they weren’t even official grunts anymore.

The ones remaining are kids who have absolutely nowhere else to go. Plumeria takes care of them since she herself stays at the mansion. She feels obligated, but in truth, it’s also comforting to know there’s a scrap of the team still left and alive. She wants to keep that scrap safe with her if she can.

Plumeria strides into a familiar alley, ducking past the trashcans left from nearby restaurants. The mall at Hau’oli had the best selections of food, that was true, but it was far away from Po Town. Luckily she could take a quick boatride back, the shortcut of which was this alley.

Until she sees a person running at her from the other side of the alley. A familiar face. His cyan hair is slicked back with sweat, eyes wide and stricken with terror, an emotion she’s intensely uncomfortable to see on one of her little brothers. What’s wrong? Get behind me. I’ll protect you. These thoughts run through her head quickly and rapidfire, so ingrained into her personality are they that it’s not a cognition, it’s instinct. Alarm spikes like fire at the back of her neck and she tenses; she’s like a big mama bear. 

Her maternal anger only roars louder as he approaches her and the turbulence in the air around him becomes clear. This is someone who’d had boy troubles in the past, since before Team Skull disbanded. Bad troubles. She’d been there for him then, and she’d be here for him now. Plumeria drops the grocery bags with a thud, her eyes fiery and demanding.

“Lane?”

[sisbane-blog]

exeggutor of a man / guzma & plumes

@skullboi​

School – Plumeria doesn’t have any particularly good memories of it – she remembers mostly skipping. And yet the building stands, tall and impassive, in front of her.

She’s here on recommendation. Something about a course at the school here at Melemele, taught by the trial captain Ilima. Molyane had recommended it to her. Gone were the days of mocking the trial captains – here she was preparing to be coached by one. She scowls. How could she have fallen so far? Kicking the dirt angrily, Plumeria stalks past the school, hands burrowed into her pockets as if that were adequate action for the conflicting emotions she felt. 

There’s a place here on Melemele that she remembers, past the meadow and the seaward cave. She sees it in all of the tourist brochures around Alola. Kala’e Bay, it’s called. The best view in all of Alola; or so the brochures said. She makes her way there instead, pushing past the flowers and hearing her footfalls echo in the short pathway of the cave. Regardless of where it was, Plumeria is certain it’s a better location than school.

The day is bright and the ocean breeze is clear as she steps out onto the bay. It’s lovely, and light, and Plumeria finds herself heaving a breath of relief.

“Ay, moana, you never change.” Plumeria mutters as she crouches down near the water, putting her fingers into the sea. At least some things were predictable. Like the rise and fall of the tide. It relieves her that she’s here, by the ocean, instead of in class like she’d promised Molayne. It’s some kind of order to her life that has been fraught with change, this and that, stuff that’s heavy on her with responsibility to change. Deep stuff. Inner demon stuff. It makes her uneasy no matter how much she knows it’s necessary, and so familiar things like this – skipping class – bring her momentary relief. 

Something on the far side of the bay catches her attention. Her attention rests first on the tousle of white hair, and then down to the black hoodie. The emblem on the back, which is oh so familiar to her; crossed out with a big red x. Her mind processes these details separately, and then all at once, and she realizes suddenly who it is –

“Guzma.” It’s hard for her to get the word out of her throat. It’s stuck there.  She tries to say more, but she can’t. In fact, she feels like she can’t move. It’s like there’s static in her brain preventing articulation between her limbs and her head. If she could take a step forward – oh, she would be pushing him headfirst into the water – but she can’t –

But you would be damned if she didn’t try. “Guzma!” A yell. What is he doing in Kala’e Bay? But the thought barely registers. She takes a step forward, and then another. Her voice rises, each word accentuated by a stomp. “Guzma – you – absolute – you bug-eating – sweltering – exeggutor of a man – “

When she reaches him, she grabs him by the shirt, bringing his body close to hers. He’s warm. He’s always been taller than she, but not by much. Her entire being seethes as if on the precipice of explosion. 

“How dare you leave us like that?” Dimly she’s aware of the severe venom in her voice, inflected especially in the ‘us’. “It’s so tough for you to face the consequences of your actions, huh? Was it hard to see your mess cluttered around? You don’t even want to stick around to clean up? You up an’ leave the moment things don’t go perfect? Huh?” She doesn’t mean that. But at the moment, she’s flustered, furious. She can’t see straight. Every emotion she’s felt for the past two months is volcanic. 

She can’t tell him that she’s missed him. He knows already – probably – and he didn’t care.  She also can’t say that his absence has been hurting like an open wound. Only recently had she been able to lick it clean in Team Skull, and not even entirely. Perhaps to another, two months is barely the blink of an eye – but to her, and the entire Skull family, it was like Guzma had been murdered right in front of them. They were still heavy in mourning.

Plumeria growls, letting go of his shirt with a shove. “You’re the boss, ain’t you? Where’ve you fucking been?”

[sisbane-blog]

starter call

( Hello! I’m Gira & it’s a pleasure to be here. I’m excited for Plumeria to get to know people and I’m ready to get started ?! Hit the like for a starter, I’ll cap it at 3 for now.

I will message u with details, or you can message me, anything is fine. Thank you for having me! )