punchtheflowers | 4th bloom

[Truthfully, he can't say no -- this is what he wanted. The fighting part, not the Vinnie on top of him part. The bee's nest of pain buzzing in his head, the tips of his horns digging furrows into the snow, though... not so much. It wasn't a good position to be in -- even without the beatings, the ache in his trapped wing was growing with each second. He was lonely-natured, and a runt besides: when it came down to it, Char was not nearly as good at taking hits as he was at dishing them out.

Funnily enough, he could have easily reversed it in seconds. Fire was an advantage, and it burned at both ends: either a shot of fire spat at Vinnie's face or a ~~FLAMING KANCHO~~ jab from that burning tailtip would probably get Vinnie off of Char mighty quick. Even so, when Char opened his mouth, it was to speak, not to let loose Flamethrowers.]

You wanna know what kinda girl your sister really is? You wanna know what she did?

[If Char wasn't in a good position to hurt Vinnie with his fists... well, he'd just hurt Vinnie with words.]

[Some part of him had to know that Char was letting him do this. He should've been roasted the moment he tried to throw a punch. So why wasn't he? What, he was suddenly too good to set a cripple on fire? The thought of the Charizard actually holding back infuriated him.

If he weren't going to fight back properly, then Vinnie was just going to keep wailing on you until you were forced to. You thought you could just waltz in and judge his teammates?]

Yeah, fuckhead, I know. But she's still my sister! And that means I'm not taking any shit 'bout her from you!

[He was holding back, but "letting" Vinnie do anything maybe wasn't accurate. Char didn't exactly plan to just lie there and let Vinnie slug the hell out of him. He gave up on his useless attempts to push Vinnie away, instead trying to grab his free arm, hold it still. With a little luck, either Vinnie would lift the arm pressing down on Char, improving his chances of getting free, or the punching would stop.

Of course, he's still not fighting back. Still wasting time with words, still playing around. Annoying, isn't it?]

Nice to see one of Red Team's willin' to look out for their own, at least. Real touchin'. Wonder if she'd do the same for you?

[Just like that, the oh-so-nerve-grating smugness is back. It's not quite the detached dismissal of before, though. There's an active interest, almost a thrill. For once, he gets to give Red Team a taste of their own medicine, and he's loving it. Every one of those venomous words bubbling out of him is said with such obvious, malicious relish that it's almost surprising Char isn't a poison-type like the rest of his team.]

She ever mention anything about the fifteen Charizards she left to die?

[His free fist was caught by the Charizard, jolting Vinnie out of his mindless pummeling. He just stared, somewhere between furious and indignant and perturbed - dammit Char, just hit him back! Instead, the asshole was just toying around with him, relishing the sight of his words sinking in.

The change in the Venusaur's eyes was gradual, but hard to miss at such close range. Just a slight twitch there, a momentary wavering of his gaze, and a pronounced hesitation gave enough away.

If Char was right - he probably wasn't, he was just a lying punk and a bastard who couldn't be trusted even if maybe there was a possibility of being a grain of truth. Left to die... she'd never even met Charizards before. That made the hypothetical situation harder to process. Vinnie honestly had no idea how she'd react. His sister had struggled with the idea of being a 'proper' Charizard before, but being faced with real ones? Real wild ones?

His own projections were showing clearly on his face. After all, Vinnie was the one who abandoned his family all those years ago. They were gone, maybe dead. He had no way of knowing. And if he were to find his siblings, his father again... faced with the decision between the new family he had found and the old one he never should've left, every loyalty in his Venusaur blood was conflicted.

Vinnie grit his teeth, trying to shake the hold that these old anxieties had. He hated the fact that Char had somehow gotten so successfully gotten under his skin.]

She's not the one t'do shit like that. So shut the fuck up.

[Sasha wasn't the one who should've been under question. It'd always been him.

In that moment his concentration was broken. The grip he had on Char was loosened just slightly. He hadn't shifted his position any, but if there were a time to turn the fight on his ass, it was now.]

Edited 2011-03-11 13:22 (UTC)

[Once Char had learned how to hunt, he'd grown to take a sort of satisfaction in it -- in the moment of sweeping some unsuspecting morsel off its feet and sinking your teeth in. This kinda felt just like that moment. He might have been on the bottom, but he wasn't the one kicking helplessly at the air.

He'd planted an ember that wouldn't be put out, and he knew it. The dude could rationalize or push it aside as much as he wanted, but obviously something about that question had struck a note. He could have kept going, but Vinnie wasn't going to listen to an explanation, and not knowing more than that one disconcerting fact would just be all the more haunting without knowing about the circumstances.

Besides, his wing was seriously starting to cramp up. Enough with the cat and mouse. Char let go of Vinnie's arm, instead seizing the Venusaur's shirt collar. His wings pushed against the snow, and he threw whatever muscle he could into dragging Vinnie off to the side, in hopes of reversing their positions. Char might have been the smaller of the two, but he wasn't the one distracted with family issues -- with a little luck, it'd be distraction enough to get him on top.]

[Vinnie didn't even have time to blink before the sudden shift turned the tables on him, and threw him to the ground. He hit the ground with a wince, alarm bells going off in his head. Getting caught belly-up was a bad feeling for saurs when every instinct warned against putting their floral half in harm's way. Even in human form, with his leafy appendages flattened against his skin, the fear of crushing his vulnerable flower remained.

Though he tried to use the momentum from the rollover to come back out on top, the Venusaur missed his chance. Goddamn. He mentally berated himself - that's what he got for having his mind elsewhere in a fight. Now he was wipe open.

It felt like the world was out to get him, and this was just icing on some twisted karmic cake. For being a screw up, for being a danger to humans and burden on the team and failed brother, sure. But why'd it have to be Char?

He grit his teeth, trying to push himself either out or up, anywhere that wasn't under the Charizard. You wanted to punch a crippled Pokemon while he was down, then you got your embossed invitation. He could take your hits. And he deserved them, too.

The very first thing Char did was stretch his wings. Jesus Vinnie weighed like a ton.

The second thing he did was RSVP that invitation. With his fist. By punching Vinnie. With his fist. He was sure that this was the end of it, that there was no way in hell Vinnie would be turning the tables on him again. An arrogant assumption, given that he was still definitely the smaller and lighter of the two, but a fight was a mental thing, too, and he'd had the upper hand there even before he'd said a word to Sir Sulksalot of the Angst Table. He could draw it out as long as he wanted, or just grind Vinnie into the dirt right there and then.

Goddamn, it was a good feeling.

Another punch. "Squirm a little harder for me, bitch!" And again. "How's it feel to be the dead weight, huh?" A thoughtless, throwaway name that Vinnie had tossed Char's way months earlier, but one Char certainly hadn't forgotten. Ironic just how different things could look after that torn wing had healed itself up, wasn't it?

For being as bold as he was, Vinnie wasn't one to be taken down by a few hits to the face - it was the humiliation that was really taking him down. He could taste blood in his mouth, feel his piercings tear, and for a moment the thought of fighting back against the pain didn't even cross his mind.

It wasn't until Char threw his own words back at him that something sparked in the back of his brain. Yeah, sure he was dead weight. Useless to his whole damn team. Too weak to help anyone he cared about.

But that feeling of self-doubt only applied to people he actually cared about.

Under no circumstances was he just going to let a stinking son of a bitch like Char get the best of him.

Bloodshot, blood red eyes flashed open, burning with enough hate that the Grass Type could've almost been mistaken for Fire. The Venusaur didn't even have words to articulate anymore, only a low snarl as he lashed out in mid-punch. Grabbing Char's extended arm in two places, Vinnie twisted it towards him and sunk his teeth deep into the Charizard's wrist, holding nothing back.

He may not have had a predator's fangs, or any sort of elemental bite, but his Venusaur teeth were still plenty sharp. And the soft underside of the forearm was just as vulnerable for a humanized Pokemon as it was a normal person. Vinnie wasn't letting go for anything, he was aiming to draw blood and then some.

Edited 2011-03-22 11:46 (UTC)

Char may not have been too bright, but he'd figured out the rules of fighting as a human pretty quickly. Fists, not claws -- those stubby fingernails could never break skin, anyway. Fire, wings, and tail all counted as cheating. Not that this had necessarily stopped Char from using them. No biting. Human teeth were duller than Charizard teeth; he'd doubted they would have had the same destructive power, either.

Thank goodness Vinnie was there to show Char that actually, yes, humanized teeth could hurt lots. Seriously. Lots.

Vinnie was rewarded with a sharp cry, equal parts pain and outrage that Vinnie would have the balls to actually bite him. With the shitty human version of his shitty Venusaur teeth. They were double-shitty! And they were actually ruining his shit! Vinnie had definitely succeeded in breaking skin; he would have been swiftly rewarded by a flood of oh-so-sweet metallic flavor not long after digging in.

The first instinct was for the trapped hand to seize up in an agonized parody of the claws he lacked, pulling his arm uselessly against Vinnie's grip in an attempt to break free. When it quickly clicked that this wasn't going to be successful, his free hand came to the rescue. He grabbed at Vinnie's throat, clamped his fingers down, and pushed. The angle was awkward, with Char trying to reach under his arm like that, but even if he couldn't pry Vinnie away, a little pressure to the windpipe often made for excellent persuasion.

Blood dribbled into the normally vegan-with-exceptions, tree-hugging, Grass Type's mouth - he had to fight the urge to retch from the taste. Mingling in with his own blood and spit, Vinnie gnawed on the arm as hard as he was able, trying to saw through to as many tender parts as he could. Never underestimate the biting strength of a creature that was normally half mouth anyway. Char was definitely not going to be punching with that hand for the rest of the fight.

By the time he'd gotten wise enough to take Vinnie's neck in that awkward grip, the damage had been done. He put up a bit of a fight, snagging onto thin, easily torn skin, but the bloodied arm was eventually released from his jaws.

That didn't mean, however, that he was finished. Char may have had his throat, but he couldn't grab his mouth without risking his fingers being bitten off as well. There was nothing in the unofficial rules of human fighting that prohibited spitting blood into the eyes of your opponent.

Wasn't a sludge bomb. But he definitely had the experience with aiming projectile grossness. With one free hand, he grabbed for Char's head, aiming for either a fistful of hair or horn to pull that jerkass face into spitting range. And then he spat.

Edited 2011-03-22 12:57 (UTC)

Vinnie had just been going for the most convenient thing to grab. It was perfectly natural to go aiming toward the big handle-like things sticking out of Char's head. With a sister as unusually docile and accomodating as Sasha, it was possible he'd simply never learned what happens when you grab a Charizard by the horn.

To use the proper scientific animal behaviorist term, Char went "completely and utterly apeshit".

Char slammed the heel of his palm into Vinnie's throat - more in a gut-reflex attempt to throw his weight into resisting the hand pulling his horn than out of a deliberate desire to harm. He turned his head away in the process; the blood-spitball hit the side of his face instead of his eyes. Not... that this was really all that better. It was in his hair.

And just like that, Char made the jump from provoking douchebag to seriously pissed-off animal. It might have been the yuck-bomb splattered on his face, it might have been the relentless throbbing of his bleeding wrist, or it might have been the fact that Vinnie had just pulled a move that was essentially his line's equivalent of a hearty cockslap. It might have been all three. (But it was definitely mostly the last one.) He let out a shout of raw animal fury, the heat rising in his throat unbidden. A few stray wisps of flame stole out as he shook his head furiously, trying to twist his horn free.

"You FUCK!" Char snarled, in a dazzling display of creativity. The ultimate ice burn. "I'm gonna shove what's left of your gimpy little spineweed so far up your ass you're gonna be shittin' rainforests!"

Edited 2011-03-23 04:09 (UTC)

Well damn. Venusaurs were totally weak against ice and burns. His head smashed against the ground, choking under the crushing pressure of Char's hand on his windpipe. It was easy for his rage to be dwarfed by the berserk Fire Type when his attempts at speech, even growls were turned into forced rasps.

The horn grip only tightened as the Charizard thrashed his head around wildly - in trying to free himself from Vinnie's hold, Char was tipping his own center of balance as well. He had to endure the crazed dragon long enough to give that horn a well timed shove to the side. At the same time, the Venusaur's legs - which had up to this point been ignored - locked themselves around the base of his flailing tail, twisting their tangled limbs together so that Char would finally get knocked off his vantage point.

He didn't care about flipping positions again. If Char was starting up the fireworks with his breath, then it didn't matter how many fists Vinnie fed him. He just wanted to be apart and off his back, period.

Edited 2011-03-23 07:56 (UTC)

Oh. Oh, Vinnie was touching his tail, too. Why not just make a grab at his junk while you're at it, Vinnie. Complete the trifecta of "never touch this part of my anatomy or I will remove your face".

For what it was worth, the move proved effective. Char toppled onto his side, leaving Vinnie free to put some space between them. Not, of course, that he was going to stay down for long. As soon as it registered that his horns were free, he was up on one knee, the glow in the back of his throat intensifying at he took in a deep breath. Aw, Vinnie wanted to shy away? Getting all spooked by the big (hahahaha) mean Charizard?

Fine, but that wasn't gonna make him any safer. Char simply spat a burst of flame his way. Apparently, whatever sense of... fairness? Wanting an actual challenge? Laziness? Whatever had held Char back from using his less-than-human assets, it certainly didn't seem to be standing in the way anymore. Vinnie wanted to go grabbing horns, acting like he was the big, strong superior one? His shit was gonna get called the fuck out.

Edited 2011-03-23 08:08 (UTC)

Vinnie scrambled to his feet, finally out of the dirt and snow. God, it felt like a lot of blood on his face. The taste of metal just wouldn't leave his mouth, even as he tried to spit out the excess. It felt like he swallowed his fair share too, and for someone who was very strictly no meat, the thought of that turned his stomach.

Oh, right, and Char was breathing warning flames. Well, that as more or less a signal that the human gloves were off - not that it made a huge difference in Vinnie's condition right now. Not that he ever thought twice about fighting a Fire Type, either.

All right then. The Venusaur anchored his stance - he was wet and muddy and aching and disgusting, he couldn't breathe out of one nostril for the blood clots and his stomach was squirming, but he was ready for you. Anger was a hell of a rush to fight with, but it also made you sloppy.

"I'd be pretty pissed off too, having t'tell Green 'bout how a fuckin' cripple kicked your ass."

~~come at me, bro~~

Oh, that was it! He was gonna chew a hole right through the cocksucker!

A calmer, more civilized individual might have stopped to think this over. Vinnie was the kind of guy who could stand a lot of punishment. Char... not so much. Vinnie had given back at least as much as Char had dished out -- more, if you counted the arm hanging at Char's side, hand growing increasingly marred by the red still trickling down from that bite. Letting his temper outrun his brain had gotten Char into trouble before; this may not have been the best time to throw common sense to the wind.

But on the other hand, his horn had been grabbed. This was just Vinnie, anyway -- and watered-down version to boot! No Frenzy Plants or Sleep Powders to worry about. Char knew that even at his best, Vinnie would have lost to him out in front of the gates all those months ago. Even with six other Pokemon ganging up on him with attacks, even with the handicap of a torn wing, even with Vinnie busting out the best he had... Char was positive that if the team hadn't run away, he would have taken Vinnie out. Why should this be any different? The odds were stacked in his favor now!

It was reckless of him. It was way too cocky of him. But he was so goddamn done with this uppity Red-team bullshit. Vinnie wanted to bite? Fine. Absolutely fine. They'd see how a real predator's teeth compared to some wilted-ass grass-type's. Char shot forward with another raw animal cry, ready to meet Vinnie head-on.

Vinnie had one chance, and it was all thanks to being underestimated. Being both a Grass Type and a cripple, it was pretty easy not to perceive him as a threat to the Charizard - and in the blindness of his rage, it could be taken advantage of. If Char had the foresight to rush him with a Fire or a Flying attack, the Venusaur would've been done. Instead he was just charging recklessly in like the stupid douche he was.

Vinnie side-stepped towards Char's bloodied arm, flanking his weaker side so to stay in the offensive blind spot. It wasn't very smart if he felt like lashing out or blocking with a still-bleeding wrist like that. It'd take a split second for the Charizard to twist his head and unleash any sort of breath-based flame, Vinnie was going to strike first in that one precious interval.

You were gonna wish this was a Frenzy Plant by the time the day was through. Instead, a surge of toxic sludge poured out from the plant's half Poison stomach, raining a slurry of vomit and corrosive acid onto the humanized dragon. It was a noxious cascade, a veritable deluge of poisons. It could burn even a Fire Type. The smell and texture were both indescribable in their foulness.

Sure, literally barfing on your opponent wasn't too graceful. If he weren't in human form, he'd actually have enough control to fire grenade-like bombs of sludge instead of straight up projectile sick. Either way the result was the same.

Edited 2011-03-23 11:08 (UTC)

The good news was that Char had more than just that one arm to be blocking with. Char also had many years of experience butting heads with Vinnie, and happened to be on the same team as two poison-tyes to boot. He'd been an utter moron not to anticipate it, of course, but he'd have to be a blind moron to miss the warning signs once he was in range. He bowed his wing around him as soon as he realized just what Vinnie intended to do, trying to turn away from the inevitable.

It was, sadly, a little too slow to totally shield him. He did avoid getting any Venusaur puke in the open wound on his arm, but not all of him made out quite that lucky. Oh god, the stink of Vinnie was probably never gonna fully wash out of his clothes. Oh god, he'd have to spend forever under the shower trying to get himself clean again, and even just the thought of all that water was making his skin itch...

Oh, no. Wait. That was the ACIDIC VENUSAUR SPEW. Another very obvious downside to using your own wing as a barf umbrella: wings also happened to be made of skin. Skin which was not very poison-friendly. Already, he could feel a horrible nauseous, dizzy feeling growing in the pit of his stomach. He gave his wing a sharp flick, sending the noxious stuff coating his wing spattering to the ground. It was a common rule of thumb that attacks like this were generally a lot less threatening when the user had turned human. Sludge Bomb was the exception to that rule. This was a thousand times worse than just the regular stank-ass ooze oh god.

"Jesus, what the fuck is wrong with you?!" Char stepped toward Vinnie, trying to come out with one more Flamethrower before he entered a whole new vomit-saturated level of hell. He still had some time before the poison set in. Enough time, at least, to reduce Duke Hurlington here to a pile of cinders.

...Oh. Maybe he had a little less time than he thought.

Q: What happens when a Pokemon tries to breathe fire and violently empty the contents of its stomach at the same time?

A: THE WORST THING POSSIBLE.

Fire vomit. This was a new one. Usually his opponents had enough sense left so they could tell when they were about to throw up as well. Char, sadly, not so much.

A burst of flame lit up the air between them, singing Vinnie before he had the time to dart backwards. But that hiccup of a flamethrower was all Char had managed before what came out of his mouth just disintegrated into a chunky stream of flaming vomit. It was like some putrid flambé of what looked like half-digested animal, enveloped in glowing embers.

He wasn't as skilled in projectile vomit, but that didn't mean Vinnie was scott free. His skin felt seared and his toes caught splatters of fiery puke and his hoodie was catching on fire actually oh fucking shit--

Welp. Off his back and onto a pile of slush it goes. Idly, Vinnie stomped the fire out as he waited for Char to get up again. If in fact Char ever was going to stop throwing up and get up again. "Looks like I found a way t'shut your fat fuckin' mouth after all."

Just. Give him a second, Vinnie. He's almost-- oh god. Nope. That might have been a chipmunk once.

But wait, there's more! Okay. Who even knows what that was. It's not even done yet dear lord. A nightmarish outpouring of steam and sick. Oh my god this was so horrible fuck you Vinnie just fuck you. Charizards were not meant to use Lava Plume oh god there was still one more round.

A fit of coughing and dry heaving, and finally a thin splatter of some kind of oily fluid and a short-lived little sprinking of sparks. Char stayed where he was, just trying to shake off the shivers, get his breathing back to normal. Oh god this place was literally the worst-smelling place on earth. The only thing worse than Vinnie's venom-upchuck stink was Vinnie's venom-upchuck stink mixed with burnt digested-dead-thing-slurry.

"Come over here so I can kill you," he quietly told Vinnie.

Edited 2011-03-23 12:24 (UTC)

Somehow, the contents of the Charizard's vomit were more repulsive to Vinnie than the poison sewage his own stomach generated. The smell of dead animals, cooked or not, was far from appetizing for him - so the fact that they were on fire and half digested made them abominable.

He scrunched his nose in disgust, taking a step back as Char emptied out the menagerie he had apparently eaten earlier that day. If he really had the strength to pull off flamethrowers after that mess, it would've been a surprising feat. Not one particularly advantageous for the Grass Type though, hence the distance. A poisoned Charizard wasn't necessarily a defeated Charizard.

"Yeah, that's real tempting," spat Vinnie as he pulled his nose piercing from his bleeding left nostril. It would've been a good idea to take that out before getting punched multiple times. "I think I'd be more worried 'bout whether you could find an antidote before you pass the fuck out."

Yes, this would have been a very excellent time to just cut his losses and go looking for an antidote. A fight that had really only started because Char couldn't resist the urge to make allusions to his oh-so-clever phone pranks definitely wasn't worth letting poison eat away at him until he collapsed.

No such luck here. This was Vinnie. Vinnie had grabbed his horn. Those two facts were enough to apparently make risking the passing out worth it. Char straightened himself up, stumbling back a pace or two. Dragged the back of his hand over his mouth. "Only thing you gotta be worried about is the unholy ass-whoopin' headed your way," Char growled.

He took a few slow steps toward Vinnie (around the minefield of ex-woodland-creatures, not through it, thank you), gauging just how bad the poison was throwing him off, gauging the distance between them. Too much for fire, if he even had any fire left in him after that. But maybe not too much for the air.

A minute tensing of Char's wings was the only warning Vinnie'd get before he flared them out to their fullest, then brought them down in a sharp, sudden flap. It wasn't a misguided attempt to get airborne: he was firing off an Air Slash. It didn't quite have the same dramatic effect as puking on anyone, but a razor-sharp blade of wind could still leave a decent mark on a grass-type if it connected.

In that instant, Vinnie's eyes widened as he tried to dodge - but that was the problem with air, most times it was pretty hard to see. He hadn't figured Char to use Air Slash in human form, considering how much smaller his wingspan was. He hadn't calculated the arc formed by the blade of wind. So when he tried to step out of its trajectory, the Air Slash still managed to cut through his side.

Thankfully, it wasn't so sharp that it could actually tear through the Venusaur's torso, but it was enough to rip through the shirt he had on, and leave its mark on his thin human skin. The sheer impact of the precision gust knocked him back a step, like he'd been hit with a blunt sword at point blank. In fact, it would've hurt less if it had been a blunt sword, rather than a Flying Attack, damn his leaves for being so vulnerable to them. Almost immediately the bruises blossomed in bright reds and purples.

Vinnie staggered backwards, the look of disbelief on his face quickly succumbing to simple exhaustion. That attack was the straw that broke the Camerupt's back - the hurt that had been suppressed by adrenaline all came back, crashing down on him in waves hard enough to make his knees buckle. Even has he tried to fight to stay upright, his human body had just taken too much punishment.

Unsteadily, Vinnie gasped, "You little shi--" before he toppled over and hit the ground.

Edited 2011-03-28 10:07 (UTC)

The second Vinnie collapsed, Char with hit with a rush of what could have been triumph or lightheadedness. The poison was making it kind of hard to tell by that point. Really, he had nothing to be proud of: he had only just narrowly won a victory against something that was weak to both of his types, and only had access to one of its attacks. And a Pyrrhic victory at that; sure, he got to prove... whatever it was that he'd been trying to prove, but Vinnie had messed him up real good. His hand was red and sticky with his own blood; he was gonna be feeling that bite for days, no doubt. He was muddied, bloodied, bruised, and splattered with vomit. The sludge that had trickled off of him already left behind angry red, burning skin in its wake. Little more than a symptom of what was going on inside his system: that poison hadn't gone anywhere. He needed an antidote fast if he wanted to stay standing much longer.

So naturally, he continued to favor being an utter shitlick over having any sort of sense of self-preservation. "What was that, Vinnie? Couldn't hear you." Sardonic and savagely proud, no matter how rough his condition. Few things could beat the raw satisfaction of taking down one of Red's. He continued those slow, wavering steps toward Vinnie. Were they getting unsteadier?

"Don't even know why you keep tryin'." Were his words a little more slurred than a second ago? "Y'can't win. You goddamn failure." Was he looking at Vinnie? Since when had things gone so blurry? Another step. Another. They were getting... harder, somehow. A dull, throbbing ache that spread and intensified with each movement -- it was in his skin, in the pit of his stomach, burning in his throat, pounding in his head. White-hot stabs of pain bloomed like starbursts, cloudied his vision even further. Char was vaguely aware of his arms wrapping around his stomach, of bending double, of something warm against his forehead. All Vinnie's fault. Oughta kick his shit in. But somehow... his leg wouldn't move?

Oh. Because he was bent double on the ground. Right. That explained what the warm thing was, then. Vinnie. A trembling hand braced itself on Vinnie's stomach and strained to push Char upright again, but the poison had claimed too much. He couldn't do it. If he'd only had a few more seconds in him, if he'd thought to bring a Pecha berry, if he'd just set the punk on fire from the get-go... Ah. Screw it.

The pain was getting worse, his breath coming in strained, feverish pants. He was in for one hell of a ride before the poison was going to pass from his system. Even so, the last cloudy, muddled thought in his mind before unconsciousness claimed him too was how incredibly worth it that all was.

4th bloom

no subject

no subject

ignore the pogle icon, it was the douchiest i had

backtag land aka ten centuries passing between each tag

and then I made you wait another ten

no i think you'll find i'm the lamest thing since lame

by which you mean greatest

worstest

greaterest

sucktasticalerest

p.s.: uh no fantasmagicalest

failtasmagicalest

enchantasticwonderfulest

poopular

FUC i can't counter a poop pun

checkmate

JUST YOU WAIT

oh no i regret

just as plaaughuhhblauughf

and then hatesex happened

red-hot pukey hatesex

and then they made out in midpuke

we call that HARDCORE FRENCHING