The real OGs.
- Jan 28, 2017
- Reaction score
You're a girl who knows what she wants -- at least, that seems to be the case whenever you come here, to the Adoption Center. On today's menu: fish. Did we say menu? Not menu. Don't eat the fish. Fish are friends, not food. (Unless you ask Tate.) You greet Goldeen hopefully, promising him lots of friends, or even no friends, depending on his preferences -- whatever he wants, really. On the other side of the glass, he stares at you, fins billowing like a cape in the water. You might have some competition today for 'Most On-Point Look' -- and the fish doesn't even have to try.The last time Alice had come into the Adoption Centre, it had been for the flighty member of the electric mouse clan. Maya was pretty happy with her, spending a lot of time in the trees or playing with Peaches, Alice's Pichu. Spring was in full swing now, the Snowdown a distant memory in the Cloud Garden, and Alice and her team spent more time outdoors than they had in quite a while. They all liked to play, she and Farren enjoyed a good nap, or she'd paddle in the water. The Pokemon Alice had in mind might enjoy the latter, although the idol was worried she might get stabbed.
Walking in, she looked very much the diva celebrity: hair twisted into an over-the-shoulder plait, designer sunglasses partially obscuring her blue eyes and made-up face. Bright green flowers were studded into Alice's ears, matching well with the Alolan print bustier tank cropped onto her torso in pinks and vibrant verdant. Darker green leaves were stitched onto the trainer's flat shoes, pasty legs on show in tiny blue shorts. Yep, it was the kind of outfit that Kara the Koffing approved of, except Alice smelled of summer perfume and not poisonous gas. That had been a real habit to kick from the Pokemon... And she wasn't quite there yet.
As usual, Alice knew where she was headed, making her way to the section where water-types were kept. The population of the Adoption Centre fluctuated, but the Goldeen had been there for a while now. Alice approached the glass, a friendship bracelet on one wrist and pink tote hanging off the other, from which delicate fingers procured a Poke Ball and the $200 fee required of her. “Okay, Goldeen. I still don't have a nickname in mind for you, unfortunately, but I thought we could maybe figure it out together.” She offered. “I have plenty of watery friends back at home for you, so you won't be lonely. Unless you like it that way.” Poliwag, Krabby- had Goldeen ever known them?
She would find out, she supposed.
Goldeen don't prize themselves on their fins, though. That's just a weird human obsession. No, Goldeen favor their horns. Thick as your dainty wrist and hard as steel, with a point like a hypodermic needle, boy's looking real good by Goldeen standards, too... and he's sick of being in this aquarium. Like a prince, his fins sweeping around him gloriously, he turns and swims as far away from you as he can, before looping around and speeding towards the glass face. There's a sickening crunch when his horn breaks through the side of the aquarium, cracks spiderwebbing across the surface before the structural integrity fails, 200 gallons of water bursting forth in a sudden deluge and flooding the room. You don't escape a drop, looking like a drowned Ratatta as your new friend goes gliding gendly across the hard wood floor on about two inches of water. He looks very pleased with himself. The noise of exploding glass and running water has attracted a pair of interns, both of them redheaded but otherwise very different looking. The taller one -- a woman probably in her 40s, wearing glasses -- cries out in frustration.
"Who put the Goldeen in the aquarium?!" She wails, sounding devastated. If you had to hazard a guess, she's probably the one who's going to have to clean this mess up. The other woman -- a bit younger, and significantly more attractive -- shrugs.
"I think they said something about treating the algae bloom in the pond?" She offers, utterly nonplussed. Meanwhile, your new friend has flopped his way towards the door, evidently making an escape from this shit. The older woman chases after him, sloshing through the water, and snatches him up, but a moment later drops him again with a scream, when the Goldeen bites her.
"Stupid fish-!" She yells, kicking at the Goldeen in a less than sincere attempt at striking him -- she's frustrated, not a monster. Goldeen flops away, fins flapping like a bird, to hide behind your ankles, water dripping onto him from your body like a gentle rain. He sticks his tongue out at the woman. Who knew fish could even do that? The younger woman approaches you, patting your soggy shoulder.
"Congrats," she informs. "You've just adopted a Goldeen."
There's no such thing as 'you break it, you buy it' in charity work, but evidently there is such a thing as 'you break it, you adopt it.' Not that this was really your fault. Not that that sways the younger woman, who guides her seething older friend to the front counter to fetch your paper work. Behind you, the Goldeen has flopped his way to the door, waiting impatiently for you to open it so he can get the hell out of here. Liberty, they say, is the rights of all men. Evidently, he thinks it's the right of all fish, too. As you look between the interns putting together a clipboard, and your new companion, you get a strong inkling that this one is going to prove difficult. Good luck with that.
Adoption of Lv. 01 (M) Goldeen confirmed.