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Thread: Darcie.

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    Kill you? Little ol' moi? Ninetails 009's Avatar
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    Feb 2007
    Snazzy Southlands, Sizzling Sexy Singapore

    Default Darcie.

    Name: D'Arcy (Darcie) Ness
    Age: 17

    Pokemon: Monkey's Paw (Jirachi), Gospel (Porygon Z) and Gills (Electrode)


    None is to be noted down here. How Darcie wants to be is her own fucking business. Once things are written down, they become a part of history. Easily burnt, easily immolated, easily deleted, easily hacked, but we all know that it was once there. What is read is memory, unchanging, and that is not fair to the fluid person. But history is a different thing, because it has passed and too bad, Darcie, that's not something for you to craft.


    If you look up the yearbooks of the Pokemon school, you'll notice one thing as you flip through the years. As the class of A8 age and elongate and run through its personas' myriad of hairstyles from long to short to curled to gelled to a military buzz to nothing at all, one face magically...disappears. Darcie Ness, a girl who vanished in the middle of her graduation examination. She was an A student, but one of those who only got there through hours and hours of soul-deadening studies. There is an age for the bitter realisation that hard work only gets you so far, and that those with talent reach the top. Darcie had skidded across that line around two months ago, and the final preparations for the exam were done in a suspended state of φ(..). And right in the middle of that silent prison of that hall, Darcie became no more.

    She thinks she fell asleep. Not so much of drifted off, but it is that wide-awake daze that you enter when you are subjected to sensory deprivation. When you are breathing, but not taking in oxygen, and seeing, and seeing white. When you feel paper and it is number, and you flail and it whizzes through space. When you don't taste at all, not even the desensitized presence of your own saliva. She blinked, and the world was an eye.

    No eyelids, no eyelashes. Just an endless expanse of schlera and iris. Have you ever noticed the way these secondary organs are always prefixed? Eyelids, eyelashes, eyebrows, the same tagline that haunts the phrase of eyeloveyou. It stared at her, and of course, like a normal girl, she shrieked. Jerked her head back. And saw the stars above.

    She doesn't know why it was facing her, but it did. That eerie thing. Trailing its fluttery streamers and so-cartoon-like starshaped HEAD and oh-god-gay silver sparkles and everything that was abso-fucking-lutely rainbows and unicorns, the...thing...hovered up and flew a single round around her head. Darcie inhaled a breath, and then reached out and grabbed. Hard. The tags on its head were inscribed. Tiny talismans. The of Christianity, the 壽 of the Jiangshi, and the ʔ, either the scythe of the Tarot or a question mark with its vanquished dot, no one will ever know. Either way, her school was gone. Her paper was gone. She was sitting amongst the bins of an alleyway. Peeking out, she saw a city beyond. And she took her first steps out into the light.

    It might as well be time for a change. The Pokemon school...a laughable institution. Spent seven years teaching kids about Pokemon, and never allowing them to own one. Legally, at least. She did have a childhood friend though, a Voltorb named Gills, but then again, it was a friend of hard chrome and solder, never the furry friend every girl needed at least once in her life.

    Heck, straight A student as she was, she didn't even know what this creepy little bastard was. But whatever. It might as well be her first pokemon. Psychic type, from the looks of it. More like Psychotic type. In need of some Psychiatric counterattacks to defeat it. Monkey's Paw. The name suddenly drifted into her head amidst all that mental :/ness. Might as well call it that. Key for short. Short for Freaky, more like. But from that day on, that thing's got her back.

    She more or less wandered aimlessly. Her parents were not an issue. They were a private issue that she never liked to talk about. But since then, the pokemon that gravitated towards her were...somewhat unsettling. First that was that pixelated Porygon Z, looking so much like a hologram that she never felt quite confident touching it, thinking that her hand might go through a being of pure light. It spent its time diving in and out of the electronics in the shops and people she passed by, like a swimmer flipping somersaults in the water. She named it Gospel. Gills too, finally evolved, but it came out...weird. A skull-shaped battered Electrode, a creaky thing seemingly held together by nuts and bolts. With every roll that it made to keep pace with her, Darcie half feared for it to fall apart. Weirdly enough, the trio never needed for any pokeballs to submit their souls, though Gills admittedly did live in one since it was young, and occasionally still rested there. Gills had...aged. And everyone...they simply followed her, and Key floated along the closest of them all. Together they would walk the streets. Maybe someday she will get a bicycle, and see how those three managed to keep up, she thinks. But it'll probably make no change at all. Gills would roll along as always. She'll see Gospel grinning at her from the next TV screen she passed. And Key...Key would be the one hovering, almost perching, but never touching, the one always by her shoulder.

    In that way, the four passed their days. And this is the story of what happened next.
    Last edited by Ninetails 009; 05-14-2012 at 08:55 AM.

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