#tmtheory

[yuuwaku-amor]

Magical night

@tmtheory

:･ﾟ☆✧ A broken family of an absent father too busy with business and women, and a resentful mother unable to find in herself any love for her own son, Christmas was always bundled in troubles. When he was still a child, he was, at the very least, able to ignore the spiteful comments and the sour mood, enjoying the presents in company of his brother -always smiling, always so warm and pure.

The years made him bitter. He retorted to the same things his father did -alcohol, business, women. From his teenage years, he had always spent the cursed holiday in some convoluted party or in the arms of a beautiful lady, pleasing her as best he could.

This year however, things were different. For the first time in years he was staying home. His meetings with girls had declined significantly as time passed by, and his attention was now more centered in his introverted and clumsy brother than in any charming lady crossing his path.

He would have liked to reassure him by stopping fully his contact with the beautiful females, but bad habits die hard, and they were rather determined about winning his affections -even for just a night.

Was that maybe why Mathew invited him out for the night? He wasn’t sure, but he agreed easily, content to spend some time with the other

:･ﾟ☆✧ "So, did you had any plans for tonight, or are we improvising, brother?” he mused in a light-hearted tone, fingers playing with the braid in his own hair and lips puckering up slightly in an almost childish gesture. Leaning on the door of Mathew’s room, he seemed to be sealing all escape chances from his brother.

[earthen-decay-blog]

A Winter’s Visit

@tmtheory

He’d sent someone to pick him up. Giovanni may have enjoyed the solitude of his cabin (well, cabin was likely a rather underwhelming way to describe it, as the building itself was huge,) deep in the woods and isolated on a particularly beautiful spit of land in the mountains, enjoyed the inherent ruggedness of living, even for the holidays, so far from civilization, but he wasn’t a caveman; he still had people when he needed things urgently. And Mathew just so happened to be one of the things he needed urgently.

Giovanni had invited him to spend a little time in this quaint little hideaway, wouldn’t have taken ‘no’ for an answer. Because Mathew was his friend, and obviously, this was something friends did for each other, yes? And how relaxing a snowy mountain vacation would be! Yes, obviously these were the only motivating factors for Mathew’s invitation. While one of his executives was busy chauffeuring Mathew to the cabin (disguised, of course,) Giovanni did what he could to prepare; had some grunts deliver enough groceries to last the visit, cleaned the rooms and bathrooms, made sure there was enough fuel to last the fire, and even took stock of the accessories for outdoorsy adventures. He was adamant about cutting down his own trees on the worst of years. But most of all, he spent his time meticulously planning every last step that would win him the most coveted of prizes; inviting Mathew was only the first step, after all.

[violentalpha-blog]

To hell with Christmas

@tmtheory

For someone being named after the very epicenter of Christmas, Jesus was specially unenthusiastic about the holiday. Ever since he was a child he had always spent it on his lonesome, and the images of cheerful families and couples did nothing but intensify the loneliness -and eventual anger- he felt.

Whatever feelings of wishful longing he had as a child, looking at a seemingly cheerful world through the tarnished glass of a high-class apartment with no one but himself occupying it were long gone. His teenage years had been so far an infinite repetition of him getting in troubles -bringing havoc in whichever way he could.

Today wouldn’t be any different. Hands in his pockets and his loyal doberman following after him loyally, Jesus’ eyes were those of a predator looking for his next prey. Someone to vent his angers in... someone he could beat to a pulp.

Yet pink eyes stopped half-way as he met the face of a certain professor, big glasses and reddish hair bringing attention over his person almost as much as his clumsy demeanor. Jesus was not one to often assist to class, but this own teacher was notorious enough for him to remember.

Lips tilting to a half-smirk, Jesus gave a long stride forward, easily catching up to the other. Taking advantage of the fact that he hadn’t been noticed he made a loud barking sound right besides the other ear, awaiting for a scared reaction with a haughty grin.

“Yoo, sensei. What’cha doing out here, all alone like this?”

[thekuraning-art]

Lip-synced Mathew Jermain for @tmtheory

Mathew Jermain © @tmtheory

He’s a TM scientist! :V

[etcile-archive-blog]

A Marriage of True Minds - Mathew & Sycamore

@tmtheory

One can see a man in his 30s strolling down the streets of Kalos in full winter regalia, exhaling quickly as he begins to pick up speed towards the laboratory. Today, he will meet a visitor, one from the same region as he. Mathew Jermain… he mumbles as he slows down, taking out his Holocaster to make some last minute arrangements with the personnel on hand at the laboratory.

Mathew is here to meet him on a collaboration of Mega Evolution and TM moves. Sycamore, just the night before, had sped through every paper that this man had written and was astounded by what he had found. Though admittedly the professor had only heard his name in passing, to see his works now showed for themselves how capable this man truly was.

As I will wish of you, Mathew, he had written in a final email before falling asleep on the floor of his apartment, passed out from exhaustion. Long distance correspondence wasn’t easy but after a mutual friend, a young lady now working at Sycamore’s place, had brought his papers for Sycamore to view, to say his interest was piqued was an understatement.  

Rarely has he ever met such a person dealing in an advanced field. TMs, or Technical Machines, were items that one could give to one’s Pokémon in order to teach them a new moves. When paired with Mega Evolution, the results are astounding, Sycamore reads in the paper. As a still young field, the possibilities for collaborations and combinations are endless, the paper concludes.

Sycamore pens an email right away.

Now, arriving at the lab, he sees a bright orange bushel of hair facing him and hears a voice that carried the same singsong lilt that his did, something all city Kalosians had. He clears his throat as his assistant moves away and he flits forward towards the man.

Mathew, oui? Bienvenue! Je m’apelle Augustine Sycamore. Je suis professeur de region Kalos. But you know that already, non? It is a great pleasure to be working with someone as esteemed as you. First, would you like a drink? Some coffee, perhaps?  

[scrubs-and-cigs]

New Year‘s Eve || Mathew & Petrel

There was anxiety settled in his chest. That was odd. Not a lot tended to make Petrel anxious—the prospect of getting arrested or interrogated, maybe, the idea that somehow, some way, his old man had found out about his extracurricular activities and was coming to kick his ass over one shitty joint. But none of those reasons happened to be why his heart felt like it was about to pop straight out of his chest. No, tonight was nothing bad, nothing that should be of any worry to him at all. It was... well, not a date. Was it? No, it couldn’t be. ...Could it?

As he waited by the curb in the frigid air of winter’s night, fingering the warm, fluffy scarf wrapped tightly around his neck awkwardly, and peered down to eye his bespoke three-piece suit and sleek plum bowtie, the edges of his mind frantic trying to decide whether or not it was too much. It was a nice restaurant, after all, The Sapphire Lugia wasn’t cheap or common by any means, but how would he see it? More over, how did Petrel want him to see it? He wasn’t even sure. All he knew was that he was standing here in the cold, hoping upon hope that he would show up. That he would accept the request of a nameless little brown package and come here at the time Petrel had requested. His heart continued to drum it’s anxiety-induced pattern. Would he come?

In an effort to calm himself, he reached into his pocket for a cigarette and lit up, inhaling deeply and releasing a swirl of smoky tendrils into the night sky. That was better. Everything was okay. It had been a long, long time, but everything was going to be okay. He kept repeating that to himself i his head, over and over, until he saw his frame, tall and slim, approaching, and Petrel found himself standing up straighter, proper, the corners of his mouth twitching.

“Mathew!” he greeted, “You’re — You’re here! You... did you get it? The, uh, the package that I...? I mean, I know there wasn’t much but — but you’re here! I.... it’s nice to see you!”

[earthen-decay-blog]

Service || Mathew & Giovanni

@tmtheory

He wasn’t the Boss for nothing, after all.

Giovanni oversaw all aspects of Team Rocket, to some degree. All aspects of its business, at any rate, and its business tended to include the numerous front companies and shady businesses tangled so far up in their own webs that their ownership was rarely, if ever, traced back to him. Especially not by the wrong people. Some, perhaps, were aware of the skeevy dives and various “massage parlours” Giovanni owned around the KohJoh areas, and fewer were privy to the fact that these were the various bases of operation—and, in the case of this particular dark, seedy strip club, the designated playground—of Team Rocket. Yes, Giovanni wasn’t the boss for nothing, and it was good to be king. The king, after all, always got what he wanted. Power warranted hedonism.

Half pleasure palace and half business, the Seducente Palazzo was Giovanni’s most preferred relaxation hubs for a complex of reasons; one just so happened to be who he summoned that evening. Giovanni had more than one private room at the Palazzo, but this one in particular was notable for its view; the top floor of the small building, but at the top of a hill overlooking the city proper, and in darkness, the lights and heart of Saffron came alive, gleaming as the ultimate “fuck you” to the cold and distant universe. It wasn’t nearly as heavy with incense as the rest of the building, but maintained the seductive Gothic decor he so admired. This was where he summoned him, that evening. This was where he waited, so patiently for now, to indulge in pleasure he had long desired.

He was ready and waiting when he arrived, let him in and gently, yet adamantly, shut closed the door behind him. Their last encounter had been a pleasant surprised, but it hadn’t been nearly enough. “Good evening,” he greeted, “Come in. Sit. I thought perhaps you’d enjoy a break.”

[mathlovershugarl]

"Date" MathewShugarl

Send me ‘ Property of ____’ for my muses reaction to yours claiming them. Send “Reverse property” to have me write how my muse would lay claim to your muse||Accepting||

Verse: Mmm memory serving Shugarl was his canon Shinigami self and Mathew was like his summoner? So I guess this is Canon!Shugarl verse ^^ @tmtheory

An upper class demon... a shinigami at that, one who ruled over one of the many Hells... was subjected to this. 

He could’ve had legions of demons cooking up a feast for him if he so demanded it, but no, here he was... cooking. Why? 

This HUMAN who had summoned him (on accident) couldn’t cook to his standard. He was a demon with refined tastes. Humans would nary be able to produce something his superior palate would enjoy consuming. 

What a shame, truly. 

Again, he was summoned, by ACCIDENT. There was no way for him to go back at the moment-- unless his contractor were to die of course. 

However, it was against the law to kill your contractor purposefully. If you did, your soul could easily be ripped apart-- meaning you were going to die. 

Even a shinigami like himself could not get away from such a painful punishment. 

He may enjoy tormenting others (to death, as that’s his job) and causing chaos, but that didn’t mean he necessarily enjoyed breaking the rules. A tweak here and there to satisfy his own means could be forgiven, but disobeying a law that would result in some catastrophic change in the way a world functioned could not be forgiven. 

That being said... he couldn’t accept this! The wooden spoon he was cooking with snapped in his hand.

The demon glared angrily at the human who dared speak to him as he was cooking. “You may be my summoner, but I DON’T belong to YOU. It may be different if you’ve summoned me PROPERLY and not as an ACCIDENT, but as it stands, I belong to no one but myself.” He hissed. 

As if this was a common occurrence between the two of them, Shugarl reached over to pull out a brand new wooden spoon. They kept a good stock of these spoons, likely for this very reason. 

He spooned some stew into a bowl and set it in front of Mathew. Leaning in to look him square in the eyes. “Allow me to slaughter humans in my wake and maybe i’ll entertain the idea.”

A bluff, since he knew Mathew wouldn’t allow it. It can’t hurt to give it a try, right?