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 Old Haunts, Bard
Shameless Impropriety
32
POSTS
Hoenn REGION

age
26
played by
Puck
Nov 4 2017, 05:42 PM


Gavin's eyes glanced upwards again, then back at his phone another time before finally accepting that he was in the right place. Looked exactly like the picture Phryne had texted. He'd thought she'd been kidding - that he'd end up in a somewhat entertaining wild goose chase before being told the correct address. That's why he'd stopped in town to ask where he could find the Warren residence.

This was it.

The young man quirked his brow skeptically before shoving open the gate and proceeding down a short garden path that was right out of a travel magazine. Tidy flower beds wound down each side of it, butting up against neatly trimmed bushes near the house. Cottage really. His own home had a tool shed out back that was nearly the same size.

"Yo, blondie!"

The greeting carried in a way that he hadn't expected, causing his voice to boom eerily throughout the surrounding trees. So too did the thuds that resulted from his fist falling heavily against the door.

"Open up! I want to know whose house you stole!"


The Hostess with the Ghost...ess
4
POSTS
Hoenn REGION

age
26
played by
Bardot
Nov 6 2017, 06:18 AM


Phryne Warren had not, in fact, stolen anyone's house at all. It was her house, thank you very much. If one was about to go stealing houses, which seemed ill-advised, Phryne was of the opinion that one might at least dream somewhat bigger.

Warren Cottage was a lovely little thing, perched up in the mountains on the outskirts of Lavaridge Town and the edge of the Warren estate. It had been built well, sturdy and strong, hundreds of years ago by Warren ancestors who, thankfully, had not yet been cursed.

The cottage was a humble, quaint, whitewashed thing. It boasted reasonably clean double-hung windows with sage green shutters; a cobblestone walkway lined with herbs and greens; a tall, flowering plum tree out front and a berry patch in the gardens out back; and, for luck, a gorgeously red door.

It was decisively not haunted, which was more than could be said for Warren Mansion just beyond the ridge.

Phryne had spent the morning baking. The cabin was thick with the scent of fresh bread and cinnamon, nutmeg and a warm oven. Briskly, Phryne handed the products of such endeavors-- a baker's dozen of hot cross buns-- off to Madame, a voluptuous Jynx and Phryne's resident sous chef. Madame set about placing the buns to cool on the eastern windowsill, and Phryne set about wiping the dough and spices clinging to her hands onto the front of her shirt.

To call the shirt her shirt was perhaps not terribly accurate, as it appeared to be a gentleman's button-down several sizes too large for Phryne's slender shoulders. But items which entered the realm of Phryne Warren, regardless of who they had originally belonged to, all seemed to gravitate towards Phryne's superior ownership given adequate time.

In the back garden, a gorgeous jasmine tea was brewing in the sun, and in the study, a basket full of ripe Persim berries sat, begging to be muddled. There was gin in the icebox, simple syrup on the counter and mint out front (best picked fresh). The dogs were asleep beneath the coffee table, the day was crisp and bright, and there was nothing to be demanded of Phryne beyond playing hostess, a role at which she was quite excellent at, or so the society column in the local papers claimed.

Phryne sighed, looking to her bedroom to determine whether or not to bother with pants. To do so was to imply that Gavin Raines had earned a level of respect at which donning pants was a necessity; to not was to imply he had earned the privilege of enjoying the view without. Phryne pondered this for a moment, basking in the glow of an otherwise perfectly serene morning.

Naturally, this could not last. Before she could decide one way or another, disaster struck.

From outside the cabin, it sounded like this: a crash. Dogs barking. A secondary crash. A muffled slew of curse words so foul that they made the mint in the garden wilt. And then, after-- silence. The eerie kind of silence that suggested that things were not at all yet over, but rather, that they had just begun.

The sound of the dogs returned first, sending a fleet of Taillows exploding from a nearby treeline. From the back garden, they came racing around the side of the house: a Poochyena and a Houndour in snarling pursuit of one frantic Stunky, all barreling towards the man standing at the front door.

Before they could make it to the threshold, the door opened, and a woman framed herself in the space it created. She was panting. Soaked through with jasmine tea. Hair hanging down over her face. Unhinged.

"Impeccable timing, Nips darling," Phryne said. She took the front of Gavin's shirt in her fist and, with no time to lose, pulled him inside.

Perhaps in time to avoid collision. Perhaps not.





Shameless Impropriety
32
POSTS
Hoenn REGION

age
26
played by
Puck
Nov 7 2017, 06:08 AM


Rather than producing a open door, his knocking resulted in a somewhat disturbing series of noises that had him believing that he'd entered a warzone. They were in turn crowded out by an unsettling silence. By that point, Gavin was convinced that he did not want to know the answer as to what was happening, despite having posed the question to himself in his head.

As a precaution, he started reaching for one of the pokeballs clipped onto his belt. The silence shattered moments later, drawing his attention toward the stampede quickly racing his way.

Gavin gripped the now enlarged pokeball tight in response and prepared to hurl it at Blondie's unruly pokemon. His arm was in mid motion when he felt himself pulled toward his side and then dragged through the door, all before he could process what was happening.

And just in time to avoid the impending collision.

Unfortunately, however, the maneuver cost Gavin his footing, sending him flying forward into a familiar embrace and then the both of them onto the furniture. A lucky soft landing, one that he would have joked about had it not been for the slight shift of his hand.

An instant later, his dragonite was on top of the both of them, pressing the air from his lungs.

"They should really make your show a comedy," Gav wheezed, gasping. His arm contorted upwards in an attempt to press the device still in his hand against its occupant, hoping to return Zephyr to its confines.

"Get. Off!"




The Hostess with the Ghost...ess
4
POSTS
Hoenn REGION

age
26
played by
Bardot
Nov 8 2017, 08:27 AM


Phryne stared upwards, her feet in the air, at a particularly attractive pair of white kitten heels while she regained her composure.

It would be, she decided, an infinitely more simple thing to do if she could, say, breathe air. Presently, she could not.

The gorgeous, toppled armchair that had managed to catch the two of them creaked ominously under the additional weight of Gavin's Dragonite. On plenty of other occasions, the plush crimson velvet cushions had borne the weight of three quite comfortably. On none such occasions, however, was the third in the threesome a 200 kilo dragon.

"Nips, darling," Phryne rasped against Gavin's collarbone, "As rarely as I ask this-- do hurry up."

A massive gasp of air filled Phryne's lungs as the weight was lifted and the Dragonite returned to its Pokeball. On it came a rush of Eau de Gavin: a signature scent. The sharp freshness of cool air; something musky, manly-- amber, she thought, and leather. Woody undertones. Whatever was in his deodorant. A hint of rose.

"And you said you didn't miss me," Phryne purred, reclining back now that her chest had been returned to an appropriately sultry level of breathlessness. The blonde waves of her hair spilled attractively out over the back of the armchair and onto the carpet. "There's no need to be so eager beaver, you know. I did make brunch."

Some key components of which were, admittedly, now being worn. Phryne looked down to the men's shirt she wore, now translucent and damp with spilled tea. Such a shame, too. It had been brewing in the sun all morning, that tea had, and the lovely rose-glass pitcher it had been brewing in was now shattered on the back porch.

But if there was no use crying over spilled milk, there was certainly no time to sulk over overturned tea. Just as the Dragonite situation sorted itself, Phryne's own rogue Pokemon rushed the front door and tumbled back into the house with a renewed vigor for destruction. The Stunky, in a fight for its own survival, made a point of darting beneath Phryne's beautiful hand-carved coffee table, which Argos the Houndour cleared neatly in a single graceful leap, and Shuck the Poochyena promptly barreled directly into, overturning it and the perfectly good platter of Chesto berry scones on it besides.

"So," Phryne began conversationally, watching between her legs as the dogs treed the Stunky atop her favorite china hutch. "How was your trip?"





Shameless Impropriety
32
POSTS
Hoenn REGION

age
26
played by
Puck
Nov 10 2017, 04:13 AM


Rarely was he ever at a loss for words but that was indeed the condition Gavin found himself in now. Mostly because he'd only just regained the ability to breathe. This was also the reason why he was taking his damn sweet time picking himself up off of Phryne, despite the awkwardness of it all.

His counterpart seemed to have weathered the ordeal much better than he had though, already making groan-worthy attempts at small talk. Nevermind that she was soaked through with what he hoped was not a body fluid and covered in the remnants of the baking she'd been bragging about. It was all too much to take in. So he said nothing, calmly shifting his weight to the side and rolling to his feet before stowing his pokeball and pulling Phryne to hers.

Somewhere in the background, various barks and yips still echoed, as if to remind them that the potential clusterfuck might not yet be over.

"Just wonderful," the young man deadpanned, before proceeding to dust himself off. "I highly recommend it."

The last few words were said with extra disgust as he'd only then discovered that the front of his shirt was plastered in dough. He peeled it off without hesitation, revealing the black tank top he had on underneath. Afterwards, he promptly glared at the culprit. That's when he finally got a good look at Phryne and the mess she'd contaminated him with all across her front. More importantly, however, he noticed something awfully familiar.

"Is that my shirt?!"




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