Unintended.

An RP blog for the glitch Pokèmon [FEMALE SYMBOL], or [♀ .].

[lilplanty]

↖ is now accepting curious anons.

[vnintended]

lvsamine​:

Everyone at Aether has been on edge. With her precious beast, her Nihilego out somewhere in the world, it was impossible to relax for even a moment. People were in danger, Nihilego was in danger, but tracking it with the current limitations Aether struggled with was proving to be nearly impossible.

Days upon days of trying to locate the Ultra Beast, as well as trying to keep things under wraps, was starting to take a toll on Lusamine. After what happened three years ago, if word got out that she’d lost control of the very same beast that she fused with, she’d be done for. The stress of people finding out, of Nihilego going wherever the hell it wanted, potentially trying to fuse with other people or Pokemon, possibly getting itself hurt or even killed -

God, it was all too much. She only eats when forced to, and sleep was a rarity, only getting pitiful amounts of rest when her body shuts down for a power nap. It’s no exaggeration to say that Lusamine’s brain is completely fried. She’s delirious, unfocused, in and out of dissociation…

So, for a moment, she wonders if she’s hallucinating. This creature, this truly bizarre being phased through a wall like a ghost, but it isn’t a ghost, is it? It’s unlike anything she’s ever seen before, and she can’t help but stare at it with absolute bewilderment. Its appearance reminded her of a glitch, like it was a corrupted program, but… It was corporeal, and standing (Floating?) right in front of her, not on a computer.

Several questions flooded her brain; Is this a Pokemon? A machine? What was it doing here? Was it real? Or… Had she finally lost her mind? Lusamine wasn’t in the best headspace, so maybe she really was seeing things. She rubs her eyes for a few moments, only to reveal that this thing was still here when she opened them. Okay. Unexpected. Maybe… It was real?

“Hello…?” It was tentative, and she felt a fool for opening with such a basic greeting, but coming up with anything else felt impossible with the state of shock she was in. This creature was strange, alien - Not like the Ultra Beast she’d been worrying about, but like something that shouldn’t even exist.

It was… Beautiful.

Well, well, well. Will you look at the time. It is Entirely Too Late o’ clock.

Sadly, such are the vagaries of job, life, and state of mind - with, I’d append, a particular emphasis on the latter. You thought me dead, gone, and buried? I can’t in good faith blame you, because in motivation I was a good approximation thereof. But inspiration is a fickle thing, like a  butterfly running around: easy to see in the distance, harder to catch.

But here I am, graced yet again by the muse. Assuming you are not too mad - a bold assumption, to be sure - I will proceed.

And I will proceed with more apologies, in fact. I had abundant time to review this specific scene, you will agree, and I noticed that in my haste to vomit purple words on the screen I forgot a small, insignificant detail. Because yes, Lusamine has seen something beautiful... but what, exactly?

It cannot be the glitch’s original form, of course - it would hardly fit inside these relatively cramped walls, and while crashing through like a titanic wrecking ball would surely make an impression, it would hardly be a positive one. And I doubt, co-writer of mine, that the human form it usually dons would be particularly impactful to the eyes of your own muse. A cute child she is, but beautiful? Beautiful doesn’t quite fit. No, I expect you were thinking of something more... exotic.

There it is, then. The glitch, in its assumed form.

It is a cube, as a base. It is a meter to a side, perfect to whatever arbitrary level of accuracy you would be bothered to measure. It floats, suspended some twenty centimeters from the ground, slowly bobbing up and down, as if in water. It rotates, slowly, standing on one vertex. as a clock goes. It is black: a perfect black, such that it would resemble nothing but a hole if it were not moving and turning, its shape changing accordingly. And lastly, as usual for its more alien forms, spastic red runes contract and deform and shift in its middle, as if the entire thing were transparent.

And as the woman appears, it stops dead. Whoops. That last turn... was a mistake.

For a second, nothing moves a millimeter. Everything ceases. Unsurprisingly, she is the one to break the silence. Surprisingly, it’s not with a scream. Uh.

Well, that’s a welcome change, really. The glitch didn’t think it possible. Yet again, the woman - the target? - isn’t exactly normal herself. She is... she is part of the Code, but not completely? Does that even make sense? There’s something, in her and of her and despite her, emanating like slow waves of wrongness. It disquiets the creature a bit. Not enough to stop it from answering, though, as the runes shift and order themselves into simple words.

[[hello]] [[sorry]] [[i sneak in]]

[vnintended]

Infiltrated.

Well, this is a new one.

For once, [FEMALE SYMBOL] isn't lost. Oh, it look a lot of effort - without extreme concentration, after all, its mind is prone to floundering and wandering, straying away from objectives with the same ease of a child immersed in a room full of toys. But this effort paid off, because for once the small glitch is exactly where it is meant to be.

And where would this be, you ask? It is a curious location - an artificial island in the middle of Alola, a region the not-child isn't exactly familiar with. Following the mysterious ways of the City of Numbers this far away from its origin wasn't easy, but there was a very real reason to put in the legwork. There is - or was - something, in here, it is quite interested in knowing.

See, the glitch isn't really alien - while it is undoubtedly formed in a way the rules of the world don't account for, it is still deeply interwoven into them. It is a creature of the Game, and cannot escape its gaze, nor originates from without. Which is more than can be said about the creatures this institution researched.

It all comes down to that, isn't it? [FEMALE SYMBOL] is, putting it simply, curious. Despite being the constant target of others' attention, it is now looking forward to meeting something itself - something new, something its program never accounted for. Something truly alien.

If it were a bit more feeling, it would be giddy, right now. Still, even the shade of that emotion is enough. Enough for what, you ask? To get distracted. Careless.

One wrong turn, a hop and a skip in the incorrect direction, walking through a wall like it wasn't even there, materializing inside and beyond it like a ghost... and right in front of a woman, blond flowing hair, stern gaze, glamorous dress. And flaring traces of energy that has no place in this world, because that's not its origin.

President Lusamine Aether.

[vnintended]

[vnintended]

unintended.

Indie RP blog for Glitch Pokémon  [♀ .] All interactions welcome. Please read the rules before proceeding.

[vnintended]

unovasrose​:

@vnintended​ transmitted: The small figure has momentarily abandoned its words of blazing plasma in favor of a small notebook, on which it has notoriously scribbled its query. Not too elegantly, as it is usual. [pokepuff / too pretty / can’t eat] And it does seem, in fact, like it’s busier admiring the pastry than trying to eat it.

    The smaller guest had caught her eye across the hall earlier, not because of her interesting choice of attire—unsurprisingly, she’d seen more outlandish from other high-profile guests—but because their appearance is remarkably striking otherwise. She hadn’t known how to approach them, but that problem seems to resolve when they nudge a notebook in her direction.

    “Hmm? Did you need something…?” She drifts off as her eyes fall on the sheet of paper, scanning over the words. They seem to echo the sentiment that many others had expressed throughout the night. The poképuffs are indeed gorgeous, but Rosa can attest that their taste is leagues better.

    She smiles down at them. “They are lovely, aren’t they? Don’t let that keep you from trying them out, though. If you’re looking for a recommendation, the pink ones with the cream are my favorites.”

    It suddenly dawns on her: Is there a reason why the guest chose to communicate with her via writing? Hopefully, they understood what she said.

Aaaaaah. No matter how many asks I’ve sent, across these twelve years on this forsaken site, the askbox was and remains a cramped, hellish coffin of choked words and mashed sentences; being freed from its grasp, being able to yet again vomit words as God intended in the most purple of shades, will never cease to provide an hilariously intoxicating sense of pure, unadulterated freedom.

But cough. Let’s get back to where we were, will we? The Ball.

As I’ve stated elsewhere, [FEMALE SYMBOL] hasn’t actually touched food for the entire evening, milling instead across the dance floors, uncertain about what to do and where to go; food was one of these open points, as the spectrum going from “filling one’s cheeks like a chipmunk” to “complete abstention” confused and baffled it. But - and this is actually a surprisingly proactive move, for the small glitch - it has finally decided that enough is enough, and moved to the buffet to retrieve what seemed to be the most apt piece for its needs. A poképuff.

But this is where the problems began. Because you see, the poképuff was too pretty to eat.

Don’t chuckle, please, don’t chuckle, this is a serious matter! Someone had worked hard to make it pretty, this much the not-child could infer. Someone had pored over its shape, its presentation, the colors, the touch. And for what? To be eaten? To be destroyed, like that? It’s a real conundrum to the black-tied figure. So that’s why it took the earlier success in proactivity and, after failing to come to an answer on its own, built on it to even greater peaks of grit and determination - actually initiating a conversation with someone else.

It doesn’t really know who it has just contacted - to it, it’s just another (well-dressed?) woman among many others. Would it have done so, if it had known it was one of the sponsors of the entire evening? Perhaps, perhaps not.

But still, with that success under its sleeve, it is now emboldened to continue on that train of thought, as the red crayon runs on the page in fits and starts, finally composing yet another query.

[but why is pretty is food is to eat why the effort?]

[vnintended]

Uncertain.

As it mills about the ballroom, mittens furiously kneading one another, [FEMALE SYMBOL] just as furiously ponders about what went wrong so far.

The list is not insignificant. First of all, it seems like it might have mistaken or misunderstood entirely what a “black tie attire” might mean. Oh, there are some, of course, mostly at the neck of men around the room; but most women wear exceedingly complex variations of what it acknowledges as female dresses. No ties.

As it is wearing a dress, the black tie at her neck, below her dark collar, is out of place. Very much out of place. Not that it dislikes it - in fact, it finds the look quite interesting - but the point still remains. One point down.

Food is another one. The small glitch doesn’t need to eat, per se - it can replicate the action, and it can retrieve some energy from it, but the fact remains that it is a shockingly close approximation of a well-modeled clay girl beyond the first inch or so of surface tissue. And yet people are eating - in some cases well beyond what the not-child would have considered feasible; and some people are not. Is there a specific reason for it? Should it try eating, should it not? In doubt, it does nothing.

And “nothing” is the last point. No social interaction, no interesting discovery (though it seems to have seen a talking Maractus at one point, as impossible as it sounds), nothing. The small glitch has been alone in the midst of the crowd, thus far, and as the end of the ball steadily approaches, it can’t help but feel...

...disappointed?

But who knows. There’s still some time on the clock. Time enough to turn the night around? We will see.

[vnintended]

For the fear meme, whispers: regional variants

The small glitch freezes. This is not how it works, it thinks. It’s absolutely not how it works. Ninetales do not work like that. They’re supposed to fire. Persians are not round. Wheezings do not wear top hats.

This does not make sense. Nothing about it makes sense. How? Why? Top hats?

[FEMALE SYMBOL].exe has stopped working.

(3/10.)

[horrificmemes]

Send my muse a fear you see them having, and they will rate it from 0-10 depending on how much it frightens them.

0 being “I’m not scared of that at all” to 10 being “NOPE NOPE NOPE”

[ballofhearts2021]

The Ball of Hearts

Sentence Starters I — Greetings & Lobby

“Wow, there are a LOT more people here than I was anticipating.”

“Is that _____? I think I just saw _____ in the crowd.”

“That’s totally Elesa over there!”

“I don’t wanna hang around here… where’s the bar?”

“I thought I’d be over-dressed but now I’m glad I went all-out.”

“Okay, I feel grossly under-dressed.”

“Well, since I don’t have a date and you don’t have a date… wanna be dates for the rest of the night?”

“Why am I here? You know I hate these things.”

“You look quite ravishing in that dress.”

“I’ve been hoping I’d get to meet you someday.”

“I’m so excited!! Can’t wait to start dancing!”

“What do you think of my dress/suit/outfit?”

“I only came to be polite, and now I’m going home.”

“Never thought I’d see you wearing something so fancy!”

“Alright, where’s the food?”

“You look quite handsome in that tux/suit.”

“Let’s just skip the pleasantries and head to the bar.”

“How did I ever let you talk me into this?”

“Wow… there are a lot of big names in attendance.”

“Hey! I didn’t know you were gonna be here.”

“Great to finally meet you!”

“I have to say, ____ is totally your color.”

“I’m bored already…”

“Let’s liven this party up!”

“Do you think it would be too weird for me to ask ____ for an autograph?”

“You look amazing.”

“Stay close to me, I don’t want anyone else stealing you away.”

“You clean up well.”

[vnintended]

So, here we go. It is time. Time for what might be the small glitch greatest mistake to date. Or maybe it is going to be its best idea, maybe? Nobody knows quite yet, least of all the glitch itself.

It is ready, though, as ready as it can be. It actually found Nimbasa’s Musical Theatre Hall spectacularly fast, clipping through one wall in Cerulean and glitching out three doors in the City of Numbers. Luck, skill, both? Probably both.

But enough faffing. It is time to enter. There’s people, so much people! Many more than it has ever seen - no, many more than it has ever been amongst. Because today, its place is here. It is not lost. It is not unwanted. It is not unexpected. No, it is exactly where it needs to be.

And so, it lets something new show up on its face, as it marches through the entrance. Something acquired with great zeal and greater effort, through many attempt to imitate it. Now, with success.

A small smile on its face, [FEMALE SYMBOL] enters the hall.

[vnintended]

Some more [FEMALE SYMBOL] with a tie. I’ve started rolling, I don’t quite want to stop yet.

[vnintended]

ofbrokensoulsandsurvivors​:

@vnintended​ liked for a starter - HERE

Was that a little girl? she looked about the age you’d normally begin a pokemon journey in most circumstances though it seemed odd still that she was entirely alone, Did she even have any pokemon with her? maybe she was simply lost? or maybe she needed help catching a pokemon?? was that it? She wasn’t sure but she couldn’t just ignore it. So she stood and walked over to her.

“Uhm..are you lost? you’ve just been standing here for a while and i couldn’t help but worry a little.”

With her is her Alolan ninetales who sits by her side, Attentively staring at the child before them.

Is it lost? Well, people do keep assuming that. Is it that weird for a child to be around, in a world where children do so with seeming regularity? Lillie herself isn’t quite a grown woman, after all, so the pot might be calling the kettle back, here. Moreover, even accepting a weirdness that just isn’t present in the setting, why would you automatically assume the not-child is lost? It might be exactly where it wants to be! It might be moving to a well-defined location, through precise routes, being the farthest thing possible from being lost.

This is all to say that yes, it is in fact lost.

But that’s not the issue! There is a greater problem, one currently sitting by the girl, staring at the glitch. It is aggressively wrong; everything about its form, its stats, its type screams incorrect! in [FEMALE SYMBOL]’s ears. It stands, motionless, as it tries to solve the impossible puzzle in front of it. And fails. And fails. And fails.

...it takes a good few seconds, before it is able to gather itself to trace its blazing runes in the air, sizzling plasma failing in conveying the full extent of its bafflement.

(That’s a new one, by the way. The glitch archives the emotion for later analysis, but later.)

[ur ur NINETALES it broke fix it]

[vnintended]

frowns in 4′5, but occasionally 80′3.

[vnintended]

galaxiasus​:

It may seem odd that he’s so much more comfortable in the woods than in the middle of town surrounded by ways of human interaction. But the way his body relaxes and the small smile on his face is as natural as the color of his eyes, its clear that he’s right where he should be. In tune with the woods people rarely dared travel too deep in with a hidden Zoroark snoozing under his cap. Truthfully he’s in a perfect place, the critters who live here being better neighbors than human shopkeepers or strangers.

It’s around this time where he aimlessly walks through the trees, making sure his little buddies are alright and there’s no one that managed to get in here and get lost– Pokemon or otherwise. Often times there were no problems to arise, other times there was a child who got separated from their friends and needed the local odd forest man in the neighborhood to get them back on the right trail. The more uncommon times, things out of the ordinary happen in his peaceful home.

He didn’t notice it at first, but his loyal partner did. The hat he wore shuddered for a moment, a Pichu showing itself before jumping down from its hair nest and letting out a protective snarl as it transformed into its true Zoroark self. By then he seemed to pick it up, eyeing what seemed to be a child hiding amongst the bushes and leaves. Must be another one of these cases.

“Ah. Evening, are you lost?” N was aware that something was off about the stranger from the way Z continues to stare in suspicion, but decides to remain calm for now. He knew how things let this went; if he gets defensive, the other will surely react poorly. “It’s alright. He will not bite. If you are hurt or anything I can help you out.”

Is [FEMALE SYMBOL] lost? Why yes, yes it is, as I already abundantly explained above. The poor N cannot, sadly, read the same letters his Author does, though, so we will cut him some slack for not knowing. It hasn’t quite realized it yet, though, so the question leaves it a bit confused for a second or two.

It stays completely motionless in that brief moment, taking in everything around it - the lush, verdant forest, the PKMN growling (not one it’s particularly familiar with, but one very much well integrated in the environment around it), and then back to the first figure, the one who spoke and first caught its attention.

And who is probably waiting for an answer. Whoops.

It starts with a new thing, something it has recently learned (there’s so much to learn!) - it nods. Yes, it is indeed lost. But that’s not enough - the Green Man has already asked something else. It raises its hand, ready to write in its usual blazing runes; but then its gaze goes back at the nervous PKMN. A brief assessment advises against using its standard methods, lest it surprises the potential threat too much. Back to writing in the ground, then.

And so it does, mittened finger tracing letters in the soft, loamy soil, leaving behind grooves just slightly too smooth and carved too precisely to be normal.

[am fine yes lost no hurt u friend?]

There we go. Absolutely perfect.

[vnintended]

Some more [FEMALE SYMBOL] sketches, because I really want to keep throwing out anything at least once a day. Still with its tie, because why not?

[vnintended]

This is weird.

From everything [FEMALE SYMBOL] has gathered so far, “ties” are a garment usually worn by men. There was nothing, in the flier, to imply that the “ball” was limited to men alone. And yet, it clearly implied the necessity of having a “black tie” in the attire section. Curious. Very curious.

Yet again, [FEMALE SYMBOL] doesn’t see itself as a man - but neither as a woman. So, tie be it. And a tiny, yet burning curiosity at the thought of what women might make of that attire requirement.

[vnintended]

The deed is done.

Now, time to find out what “creative black tie” means. It can’t be that hard, right?

I somehow don’t think the small glitch knows, 100%, what it has gotten itself into.