Impromptu Oran Sleepover

[quirkynote]

Who: Oran newbies
What: Having fun with communal dens
When: Sometime after Mightyena gathered them up
Where: The Spire, low tier dens
Warnings: Will add if anything comes up, but not anticipating anything

[As everyone knows by now, the Oran Berries depend heavily on communal living, sharing a bed is simply to be expected. For some, this experience was temporary. Mightyena was kind enough to lend the mysterious misplaced Pokémon a place to rest, but now some of them have moved on.

For others, this is now a part of life, and it's time to get used to it. The Oran Berries value treating everyone like friends and family, after all, so you're expected to do the same! Why not have some fun with it?

Whether you've noticed your fellow newcomers are all gathering in one den, or you suddenly find yourself dragged into the the party against your will, everyone is invited! Everyone's going through the same thing, belong to the same guild, you gotta stick together.....right?]

[[ooc: Feel free to use this as a mingle log! We have nine Oran Berries (I think???) and although the dens are said to hold up to eight, I think some members are small enough that we should be able to include everyone!]]

Comments

Emmet

[outbounds]

[ For the record, Emmet ... looks like shit, bluntly put. Well. To a certain degree that's kind of how Hisuian Zoroark looks all the time anyway, pale and phantasmal and haggard, with disheveled, messy fur, always pluming away in a non-existent wind. Pinprick, wild eyes and a haunting golden gaze that can stare right through someone. A little blurry around the edges and assorted limbs at times, like your eyes just won't focus right, a wisping sense of motion present even while at rest. #JustGhostThings, you know. Spooky.

Point is, even beyond the normal spooky ghost things, he looks like a man (mon?) who has not really been getting any decent sleep for the past while. But he's fine! It's been fine. He's been powering through it during the day, and it really isn't that noticeable with his normal carriage. Still, if you ran into or met him in their first few days here he definitely looked more put together back then than he does now, a few weeks in. ]

a. sneepy

[ In any case, he can be found, a dozing messy pile of fluffy white and red fur and folded limbs carefully tucked away at the edges of whatever room he's sharing with Ingo (and others), like he's trying to give others as much space as he can. Why might become apparent in a bit, as whatever sleep he's getting certainly doesn't seem restful.

If all the excess fur is getting into your space... oops. Sorry. Listen, he thinks it's a little bit much too. Have you tried keeping this much fluff under control? It's not like he has a brush!

If he is disturbing you from your own (attempted) sleep by idk, accidentally kicking you in your sleep or something, then double oops and double sorry. Being one of the larger Pokemon currently occupying these rooms has some drawbacks, it seems... ]

b. already awake

i.
[ Sleep is not happening, apparently! So maybe you might come across him wandering through the tunnels of the guild housing late at night, seemingly without any particular destination in mind. (It's mostly to familiarize himself with the layout, so he can commit it to memory. A series of tunnels under the ground... it's not so different, really, from what he's used to.) He'll greet you as cheerfully as normal, anyway, but the edges of his smile might be a touch strained.

(But like. Would anyone even recognize that, though, when the expression on his current shape can read as distinctly more unsettling than on a human one. After all, for many creatures, baring their teeth is a threat display, not a greeting.) ]

ii.
[ Presumably he has been dragged to the Great Oran Berry Sleepoverening. Where sleeping apparently is still not happening. He is trying to keep all assorted limbs and fur to himself but his success with that, with so many of them crammed into one place, is definitely a little variable at this point. Sorry about the mane in your face.

Make eye contact? He'll just tilt his head, smile (just a touch wryly), and offer: ]

Having trouble too? This is very strange. Wonder why it's so many of us ...

c. ????

[ idk hit me with something of your own, or remix any of the above as appropriate! ]

b-i

[offtracks]

[Ingo always used to sleep like a rock. It's just another thing that's changed slightly; he's still a rather heavy sleeper in his own tent, but the combination of unfamiliar surroundings and the lack of his own Pokemon keeping the usual watch still has him waking up throughout the night here, on alert for the sounds of possible predators. Hard to say whether Emmet's departure was the thing that woke him or not - he didn't say anything then - but he's out and about now.]

Oh, here you are! I woke and saw that you had gone.

[Was he worried? Sort of? He isn't that sure he should have been. Emmet's a grown man, he hardly needs Ingo fussing over him. But...well, what if he was upset about something? Most of the something he might be upset about probably come down to Ingo.]

1/2

[outbounds]

[ For a moment, the gaze that slides past Ingo's is curiously devoid of recognition or acknowledgment. It's almost a little too wild, the pupils constricted, gaze unfocused— or maybe focused on some point behind Ingo rather than actually on him.

In fact, it's almost like he doesn't realize Ingo's there at all. The one sign that seems to indicate that Emmet has noted the other's presence is that he stops, rather than continuing to walk the halls. ]

2/2

[outbounds]

[ But the moment passes, the yellowed gaze squeezing shut for several moments too long to strictly be called a blink. When his eyes reopen the wild look has faded some. ]

Couldn't sleep. Figured I'd do something sort of useful instead. Easy to get lost in here if someone isn't careful.

[ If he learns better then he can keep others from going down the wrong tracks, or guide them back to the correct ones. It's something he can do, so he'll carry his weight.

His expression takes on a vaguely apologetic cast. ]

Did I wake you up?

[offtracks]

[Ingo, despite himself, balks a tiny bit. That look - it just makes him look more like a wild Zoroark. But it passes, and Ingo holds his ground.]

Not at all! I...do not find it easy to sleep in such an unfamiliar place, surrounded by unfamiliar Pokemon. Perhaps if one of them happened to be a Gliscor.

[But, oh well. He'll adjust.]

[outbounds]

[ Emmet makes a noise low in his throat. Agreeing, thoughtful, generally.

If he notices Ingo's reaction he does not call attention to it. ]

What I do. What I say. Always the same. [ ... ] It is good to divert from one's usual tracks every now and then. I do not mind it. It is even fun, sometimes.

But it is still a lot to adjust to.

[offtracks]

Yes, it is. I feel strange sleeping the way that this body would like to. And it is always rather damp in here.

[He used to feel the damp in his bad shoulder, but now he just sort of feels it in his flame-spots around his collar? Strange...and still not pleasant.]

[outbounds]

I am all limbs and too much fur.

[ Complained, much in the same way. ]

Hard to figure out how I am supposed to arrange myself. Or not end up in someone else's space without meaning to.

[ He's aware he can be a bit much sometimes in general, but for it to happen while he's trying to sleep is just silly. ]

[offtracks]

They say that you can have more space if you level up within the guild! Private rooms, even!

[Is that something Emmet would like? Ingo...quite honestly cannot tell if they're rooming together because Emmet wants to room with Ingo, or simply because all of the new recruits just sort of ended up in a room together almost by default. For his own part, Ingo has rarely shared a tent with any other people since he became a Warden, but he still never sleeps alone; he's accustomed to having at least some his Pokemon close by. He isn't sure that being entirely alone would feel much more natural.]

[outbounds]

I have heard. [ ... ] Is that something you want?

[ Ingo did just say it's difficult to sleep when surrounded by strangers, after all.

They'd had their own rooms before. But that was before, and this is now. In several ways including the obvious neither of them is quite the same as they were before. For Emmet's part he thinks he's been managing the whole 'being okay with letting Ingo out of his sight' thing fine, even if a significant part of him doesn't really want to, and a not-so-quiet part, bolstered by sleep deprivation and some of the scenes that find him when he tries, is still convinced he might disappear again—

Enough of that. He is Emmet and he can handle this messiness without worrying anyone. He's had enough of that already, thank you, from before ... this. ]

[offtracks]

Oh, well. [He gives a weird four-legged shrug.] I would like to be helpful, and I suppose that results in gaining rank! But that is not the important part of it to me.

[It's not all that uncommon for grown family members to share a tent in the Pearl settlement, at least until one or the other of them gets married. It helps with the cold. Is that something he wants, though...? It's hard for him to say. They seem to work well together very naturally, like two gears clicking into place, but at the same time Ingo feels like they've really only just met.]

[outbounds]

Bzzt. Didn't answer what I asked. [ Emmet draws himself back to sit on his haunches, tilting his head as he watches the Typhlosion's reactions. ] Rank, no rank, it will happen regardless. We were going to help anyway.

[ In part because none of them really have any idea what else to do with themselves, the rest because yeah, of course they should give back if the guilds are providing for them?

That's a lot of vagueness, Ingo. Emmet doesn't want to assume. ]

Do you want a private room.

[ Does Emmet need to give him more space. Has he been barreling through things too fast, like with whatever that static was, the other afternoon. ]

[offtracks]

[Hm. So they're doing this, then. Ingo sits up on his haunches as well, giving him a few inches of extra height.]

...I do not think so. I might like a room with fewer people in it, but I will get used to the new company. I have not slept in a space without my own Pokemon in it for a very long time...I think the silence would also put me off.

[outbounds]

Okay then. Then you can share, if that is what you want. [ pause. ] With me, or with someone else. Doesn't ... have to be me.

[ Simple as that. It's strange, though, having to look up at Ingo in a situation where they should be level. ]

I will be fine with it even if you snore. And stay up too late. And if you change your mind that will be okay too. I am not always very good at filling the silence.

[ Matter of factly. ]

a

[telewarped]

[Shoka has finally managed to make herself comfortable, curled up with her tail-stick, but she isn't actually asleep yet—so when tendrils of Emmet's fur start to reach her way, creeping over her disguise like long, ghostly fingers, she definitely notices. Just when she bats away one, another unfurls out to take its place, like his whole mane is trying to go on a vacation to the other side of the den while he's dozing.

At the very least, she's gotten mostly used to the whole sleepover deal by this point, so she has the decency to keep her eventual complaint hushed and gentle (by her standards).]

Hey. You mind keeping your hairdo to yourself?

[She might have a couple strands of his mane held in her claws now, just to keep them off her—but at least she's not pulling on them.]

[outbounds]

[ he's a light sleeper, especially now, so Shoka gets a reply easily enough despite her hushed tone.

though his reply is muffled at first, something like a mumbled: "wffffmmicld." a moment's pause, before he carefully picks himself up, bows his way through a feline looking stretch,

then tries to physically gather back up all of his wayward mane using his paws. it takes a bit of doing but the end result is that the strands aren't invading Shoka's space so much anymore, though he looks at a bit of a loss as to how to proceed once he's got a hold of it all. ]

Sorry. Would if I could. Don't know how to stop ... [ pause, a bit of a shrug, then a gestured sort of rippling motion with one paw, ] from happening.

[ maybe if he tucks it underneath him and lies down on top of it...? it doesn't sound comfortable but it might be workable, right...? ]

[telewarped]

Aw, and here I thought you were some kinda Pokémon expert.

[Her tone is only lightly teasing. Truthfully, she feels sorry for him, watching him gather up his mane in pawfuls like he's wrangling a bunch of wild snakes. That's definitely not going to help him sleep any more soundly.

She breathes out a quiet sigh, then straightens.]

... You mind if I try?

[outbounds]

[ Emmet huffs a little, but the motion is somewhat exaggerated. Slightly dramatic in a way meant to convey a lack of offense taken when combined with a 'well, what can you do' grin. ]

Having a lot of generalist knowledge. Does not mean I have ever personally raised or trained something like me. Archeops has feathers, and Galvantula's fuzz isn't too much. Not like all this is.

[ A pause, then, a little thoughtfully: ]

Also, I think I am extinct? Or dangerously close to it. Something like that.

[ given that he didn't recognize the variant at all, but Ingo was able to identify it. ]

... What were you thinking, though?

[telewarped]

... Huh. An endangered species... and you're treating it like this? You oughta be ashamed.

[Then again, she knows by now that he's an aptly-named Ghost-type, like herself; maybe the kind of Pokémon he is just looks like that naturally... But his fur is still a mess, with snarls in it she imagines could be easily untangled with any functional brush.]

I was thinking I'd brush it, dummy—since you obviously haven't even tried. And maybe see if I can braid it back... I might not be a Poké-expert, but maybe then it won't have so much of a mind of its own.

[outbounds]

[ hey, wait a minute— ]

Have tried. [ with his paws, anyway, what he can manage of it. between his collar and the mane he's metaphorically had his hands full... ] But doing basically anything makes it into a mess again. And I am not sure that it is all actually solid?

[ he hasn't seen Hisuian Zorua to know himself, but at least parts of the head tuft there are less fur and more just formed resentful energy ... for Hisuian Zoroark it seems to be at least somewhat more physical? maybe her idea will work, even if Emmet isn't so sure about it.

in any case, she's still right— the restless nights have been adding up, with snarls in the fur that have gone unattended to. aaaaaand if he wants to try to sneak out ... A.B.A will probably take exception to it, huh. ]

... If you want to try. I will not stop you.

[telewarped]

Well, I've gotta try something or I'm never gonna sleep, so.

[That's her excuse. With his permission granted, she comes shuffling over to gather a few wisps of his mane in her claws. Those claws are savage-looking things, but they're also dextrous—five-fingered, like a human's.

They're also apparently what she's planning on using in lieu of an actual brush. In her defense, she does know how to be careful with them, too. Experimentally, she tries to comb them gently through the ends of the fur in her grasp. Whatever she's holding right now seems to be solid, at least...]

Huh. What's it made of then, if not fur? Ectoplasm? [Something like what her own claws are made of, she guesses.]

[outbounds]

A decent part of it is real. Pretty sure of it. Doesn't always feel like it but it is. [ it's a little strange to have someone who's mostly a stranger running their claws through his fur like this, but he said he'd let her so he deliberately keeps still. if Shoka keeps combing through it though, eventually she'll get to... ] The rest, the red parts at the ends ... Maybe just something that pretends to be? Doesn't always move or behave like real fur should, it seems like.

[ it's ... pliable, sort of. flexible and wisplike, feels like it isn't quite there even though it is, right in her shadowy little not-hands. weightless. if it moves a certain way it tends to ripple more like something fluid might, rather than something entirely physical. ]

... Or maybe I am just wrong, [ Emmet adds after a moment, ] and this is just part of what being this kind of ghost means.

[ he's wisps here and there coming off his limbs too, after all. despite looking more like an regular, non-ghost Pokemon, maybe his shape in general is just not as neatly tucked away and self-contained as Shoka's own form.

Emmet yawns a little, jaw gaping open for a moment in a very canine fashion before snapping shut with an audible click. ]

Not all Pokemon ghosts were other things before. Many aren't. But someone told me that these ones are what's left after what they used to be died in the cold. According to old stories anyway. Dunno how true they are.

[telewarped]

[Once her claws reach the very end of the tresses in her hold, Shoka understands immediately what he means. She only manages to straighten the red tips out for a second before they start wavering again like flame, or maybe smoke, curling in untamable shapes between her claws.]

... Weird.

[Still, she is undeterred and goes right back to combing through the next lock of his mane that comes twisting into her reach, moving her shadowy hand in long, measured strokes. If the tips aren't going to cooperate with her, she'll just focus on brushing out the tangles in the fur that will cooperate with her for now.

Maybe it's because his mane was already getting into her personal space before, or because the whole sleepover thing is already starting to desensitize her... Or maybe it's just because Emmet looks basically like a big, weird dog. For whatever reason, this barely feels strange. Maybe it would feel stranger if she thought about it at all, but right now she's sleepily choosing not to.]

That's dark. [Said flatly, unsurprised. She figures it makes sense for a Ghost-type to have a grim backstory, after all.] And what'd they used to be? Just regular foxes, I'm guessing? Or whatever the Pokémon version of a fox is.

[outbounds]

[ Cooperate the fur does, at least the mostly-solid parts of it anyway. It's slow going, but if she keeps at it then steadily, surely, it begins to smooth out. Not without a few hiccups here and there, maybe, on a couple of particularly persistent snarls, but if Emmet has any complaints about their handling he doesn't voice them. ]

Verrry weird. [ He snickers instead, softly. Gossamer strands of red sway smokelike with the motion. ] You try dealing with it all the time. But, anyway. What they used to be...

The Zoroark I am familiar with have black fur and are not ghosts. So those ones, most likely. [ Probably. The other most likely option is some common predecessor to both of the regional variants he's aware of now. ] There are other species with vaguely similar shapes— [ there's a Nickit in this very guild, even— ] if you really want to stretch it, but Unovan Zoroark are already right there.

[ No need to go looking for other possibilities in Vulpix and Ninetales or anything. It's Zorua and Zoroark who died and the same who lingered, supposedly. ]

[telewarped]

Got it...

[As she threads her claws through his fur, she tries to commit that name to memory, like adding a newly caught monster to her FanGO Bestiary. Zoroark...]

We've got plenty of old stories and myths about fox spirits where I'm from, too. A lot about 'em being tricksters who shapeshift into humans and stuff. Don't think I've ever— [He might feel a twinge as her claws get briefly caught in one of his mane's snags.] —Sorry. Don't think I've ever heard of any that include the whole "died in the cold" thing, though. The foxes I know live in places where it snows normally, so...