(Egg Count: 1? I have no idea if development posts count for this.)Setting
: Route 9Pokémon
: Ariathra the RaltsTime
: Prior to arriving in the Maritime Industrial park, post RP Sample.
- Introducing Felicia to Ariathra.
- Working on the initial wariness.
- Instant character development, just add manipulation.
- Possibly aiming to garner a (low) rating for the aptitude of psychic resistance, if possible.
: Writing practice for Sans.
Cypwater’s loss was seen more than felt, at first. The colours of Cypwater began to fade from sight after the caravan had first rolled onto the Walk, and Felicia already knew this particular route; she’d taken it before, back when her father was still alive, so when the four hundred mile trek to Doran Village began, she wasn’t terribly worried about it.
Still, it didn’t hide the fact that she still felt out of place. The merchant who owned the caravan was Dorani, and though he hadn’t spoken much – and in turn, she to him – he’d glanced at her pokeball in distrust. Had she done something wrong, somehow? They talked little, which served the both of them fine.
The man had flint grey eyes, a solid nose, and a leathery face split only by what looked like a particularly nasty burn. His long hair had only started to turn grey, and perhaps his age had contributed to it, but he asked no questions past the most basic. After taking her coin for the fare, the man had hopped up to the front, leaving Felicia to climb aboard after the Sandslash, who hadn’t needed a word of instruction to do so.
So far, things were working out fine. The rogue hefted up the egg she’d obtained in front of her face. What could be inside? Cool, even in the warming weather of the region, to the point where it felt as if it had been buried in a spot the sun could not reach. She had no real way of determining what it was at this point. Giving her mind a brief rest from agonising over the possibilities, she set it down safely, then looked down at the Pokéball in the other hand.
She was putting it off, she knew, but part of her just wanted to rip the Pokéball open and just put an end to that mystery. It was time, Felicia figured. She’d need to meet the Pokémon eventually, especially if they were to potentially become partners. Depending on what lay inside, she could easily end up with a friend or foe – all it would take were a few sweet (and not entirely fake) words, maybe a few incentives… What could she gain from this? What could possibly have been stashed away in the room that her hapless victim had been so certain
that he’d never lose them?
Was she inadvertently doing him a favour by removing the Pokémon into her own care?
What was with all of this doubt and indecision, all of a sudden? Without thinking about how the Pokémon inside could have easily ripped the caravan apart with its sheer size alone, Felicia released the Pokémon in a flash of red light- Oh, by Arceus’s golden hooves, it was a psychic type. Felicia was not prepared for this in the slightest.
She looked up from her hands, seeing the horns belonging to what Felicia only barely recognised as a Ralts. Once, Felicia remembered; only once had she seen such a Pokémon, and as it looked around the caravan, the rogue straightened up. The Psychic turned to her, then, as if noticing her, and the natural curiosity of the Ralts turned to wariness and concern towards the new sights.
There was an itch at the back of Felicia’s awareness, one that only intensified the longer the silence continued, and Felicia coughed, stalled – and apparently, the Ralts took that as a sign for her to start speaking. Technically, that was, because Felicia felt and heard the words in her head, and the Psychic had not deigned to open her mouth and communicate like most humans (or even Pokémon) did."Who are you?"
the Ralts said, and the scorn was almost palpable, albeit lacking the bravado she’d likely intended. "This is not home, and I was not promised to you."
“I know,” Felicia said, careful about what she could – or should – be saying next. She had any number of reasonable and plausible scenarios about how the Pokémon ended up in her hands, directly or indirectly, but they all would fall flat to a psychic Pokémon who could read all of this at any time she let her guard down.
It wouldn’t work, couldn’t work. It was one thing to persuade and deceive a person face to face. It was another thing entirely when the Pokémon was rooting around inside of your head. If they formed a partnership, Felicia would need to be honest- was that guilt? It wasn’t hers, but then things clicked into place. She’d been tricked into stealing the Ralts… and by the Ralts' hand herself.
Under her gaze, the Ralts withered, almost shrunk back on herself. And she knew, too – she’d not been as careful as she’d thought to be, had she?
“You… influenced me,” Felicia started, blinking, then a smile started to break across her face, “You influenced me
. Good job.”"You are not mad, are you?"
The Psychic commented “I do not feel it from you..."
“On the contrary, I feel like this is the start of an interesting partnership,” Felicia purred, “If you’re willing to stick around.”
The Ralts nodded after a while, then settled down - but not before blinking, as if surprised, and hurtled over to the egg Felicia had also grabbed. The Ralts murmured assurances, in the manner of jarring pokéspeak that the rogue hadn't become used to, and then the Pokémon looked up.“I'm... Ariathra."
The Ralts - Ariathra - held out one of her arms to shake, oddly enough, and Felicia responde by shaking the Pokemon's hand with one of her own. Apparently, this had been the right thing to do - validation that caused a sudden upsurge of happiness in the Pokémon as she retreated from Felicia's head.
"It's nice to meet you, Ariathra, I'm Felicia," Felicia said, then leant back.
A headache had already started to blossom from the brief interaction, and try as she might to hide it - Ariathra had taken a sudden interest in her handler's well-being, apparently, and had elected to give her a break.