Thistle (thistle_chaser) wrote,
Thistle
thistle_chaser

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Yay RP! (MUSH)

So I logged on this morning and said to myself "I'll accept the first RP request that comes over +rp! No matter what!" but the first one came from someone who couldn't type at all, so I changed it to the second request. :P And everything turned out well!

I have no idea what I'll do with RP logs. I doubt I'll make a page of them (too much work), and I'm not sure about putting them all on LJ, but for now that'll do.

Thatch, aggressive little horndog that he is, ran into two girls on the beach... Small sample, rest of the log is behind the cut. Lorida is a flower-girl-thing, Raggi is a dragon-girl-thing, Thatch (me) is dog-guy-thing. (No, these are not furries.)

---
"Yes, um, yes," Lorida stutters, nodding so enthusiastically her uppermost petal bends back sharply with the force. Squeaking, she drops the camera back around her neck and snaps it straight with her hands. It holds for a moment or two, standing upright as it should, before drooping and folding over at the crease again. Her dilemma is cut short, however, as a new one presents itself. Her eyes drop and uncross as something blurry behind the petal begins to approach. It's--it's--oh gosh. The Cherrim-morph shrinks away from Thatch, her glazed smile still present but her pupils small and nervous. "Um, um. H-hi. You, um, want something? A picture?"

The dragon grins and slips back a bit, not necessarily sure what she's looking at in interaction terms, though it seems to be friendly for now at least. Raggi responds where she spoke, anyway, commenting; "Busy, isn't it. None of that hookey stuff? Or whatever that girl said y'were doing." Soon she's got all her hair sorted and that makes her able to breathe a little better. Ah, relaxing. "Oh, is he courting you? Aww, that's romantic." Obviously this girl comes from somewhere sheltered that time forgot to usher along. Or she's being sarcastic?

As he nears Lorida, Thatch adds none-too-subtle sniffing into his checking out of her, taking in her scent. Oh, he doesn't actually thrust his nose against her, but it's quite clear what he's doing. Does he want something? Flower girl's question makes his grin grow, flashing his canine teeth. His ears are pricked forward, eyes bright; 'prey' signals are picked up on. Mmmm. Even once he's close, Thatch doesn't stop walking, instead he lets his steps carry him behind her so he can check out her ass-- eh, check her out from all angles. "How about a picture of you?" he asks, trying to make his voice sound lower, more growly, sexier. Raggi's question stops him in his tracks, shifting his gaze from the flower to the dragon-thing. Courting? His nose wrinkles. Romantic? Blech. His eyes harden as he tries to send a nonverbal order at Raggi: Shoo! Go away!
---




Character descs:
Lorida
Lorida is your run-of-the-mill Cherrim-morph: blue head petals that blossom pink in the sunlight, bright yellow skin, a gaudy skirt of leaves and a short and chubby stature make her easily recognizable for what she is. The only trait that differentiates her from other members of the species is the curl of red hair that sprouts just above her eyes, keeping her forehead from appearing too bare when her face is in full bloom.
As is the case with flowers, when Lorida chooses something to wear it's bright and flashy. Reds, yellows, sky blues, and neon greens patterned or emblazoned with any number of images are her usual fare, never mind that they clash with her skin and petals.
Worn around her neck at all times is a digital camera suspended by a lanyard. It's old and worn by the looks of it, but closer inspection will reveal it's one of the newer models on the market.

Raggi
Raggi is a sweet young Dragonair girl, most notably characterised by her serpentine size and her very, very long white hair. It's easily able to drape down around her, but is usually tied up in ornate bunches and loops on her head. Her thin frame is a delicate, glassy blue, with light radial stripes in peach. She has a smooth, draconic snout, a little misted sphere under her chin against her neck, and bright cherry-red eyes. The normal Dragonair earfins are scaled up in size appropriately, wavy and peach. She is quite delicate, long smooth arms tipped with human hands, and no legs; just her slinky body and the long tail that curls slightly upon itself, little blue orbs in it near the tip.
The gaunt young lady is clad in multi-purpose Kevlar clothing; upper half resembling a dress, to free her arms and allow her to look nice and presentable, and the lower half pulled skintight and suitable for letting her move along land without scraping her underbelly. Yet at the same time, it's all made such that it doesn't overly impede her swimming. A white-gold pocketwatch chain may be poking out of a pocket - if she isn't spinning it as she walks.

Thatch
Thatch
Slightly shorter than average for his age and species, this teenage Houndour morph is covered in short black fur over most of his body. His chest and stomach are fiery red, as are his blunt muzzle and the fur of his inner ears. His forehead is covered by a hard bony skull-mask. On his back are two raised "stripes" of the same material, which prevents any shirt or jacket he wears from falling straight and smooth. Both his wrists and ankles have "bracelets" of the same material, grey-white in color.
On his head is an unruly mess of short black hair. It sticks out in every direction, making it appears as though he forgot to comb his hair this morning.
His tail is short and pointy, and while in theory it could wag, Thatch wouldn't be caught dead doing that. The same generally goes for smiling.
Dark pants cover his lower body, a hole allowing for his tail. When he wears a shirt it's dark as well, though as often as not he goes without one.


--------------------

South Beach
Cool ocean waves crash against the warm white sands here on the south beach of Pokemorph Island. The ocean stretches as far as the eye can see to the south, and a boardwalk lies to the north, beyond which is the island's lone city. The beach stretches to the east and west, rocky outcroppings to the west marring the otherwise perfect stretch of sand.
The smell of saltwater fills the air, and the ocean spray keeps the area cool. This appears to be the perfect area to swim or sunbathe, and the beautiful waves create an excellent opportunity for surfing, if you are so inclined.
Contents:
Lorida
Raggi
Obvious exits:
(Board)walk leads to Boardwalk.
(W)est leads to Further Down the Beach.
(Plunge) into the Ocean leads to Ocean.
Take to the (Skies) leads to Flying High Above the Ocean.

It's early, way too early, in the morning for anyone to be awake, thus Thatch isn't. The sun is warm and the sand is soft, so the Houndour 'morph is napping. Arms folded behind his head, shirtless torso exposed to the warm rays, legs crossed at the ankle, the doggy is out cold. Not snoring, though his breathing is deep and regular. Now and then his ears twitch at some sound, and sooner or later his sleeping lightens. Without opening his eyes, he yawns, then lifts a hand to scratch at the red fur on his chest. A sleepy mumble, or mutter to be more exact, then he frowns and rolls his head to one side. Open his eyes or not? Such hard decisions to make today...

Mornings are the absolute best time of day for a Cherrim, as Lorida can attest. After the stress of the previous evening, all she really needed was a good ol' encounter with mister sunbeam to lift her spirits and brighten up her mood. Her face in full bloom, Lorida makes her way down to the beach from the direction of the boardwalk, a skip in her step as she wheels the brand new bike along beside her. A close look will reveal that it's a rental, but a bike's a bike, and she certainly couldn't have made it down here this morning without it. The girl pauses once she hits the sand; dropping the bike on the warm, cushiony earth, she shields her eyes and glances around, searching for...something.

In the early morning haze, swiftly through the water, there wanders a Raggi. She is classically Dragonair but at the same time, not quite. Indeed, she's moving through the water more like Nessie might in those old folk lore tales, with arched rainbows of black cozzie and blue skin respectively behind her, sparkling wet. Why this in preference of being underwater? Because the girl is heading inland, and she slips out of the water and begins swimming on sand, instead. Serpent 'morph on land, yes. After her morning swim, no less, and she stretches her arms and lets out a yawn, tousling her head and whipping her earfins up a bit. Blink blink. Red eye gaze wanders along the beach.. sleeping person, sand, activity on the Boardwalk, and.. a familiar face. But first, she gets to tie her hair back up, flopping out on the sand with no grace. Fwumph. "Whoops."

Noises. Hrump. Well, that decides the whole eyes open/shut thing. With another grumble, Thatch cracks open his eyelids, yawning again as he does. A stretch, arms over his head and muscles of his legs tensing as he extends them, then he sits up. Eyes get rubbed, then he peers around for the source of what he heard, ears shifting back and forth as he does. Splashes. Someone getting out of the water. Hm. And beyond the water girl is another girl with a bicycle. Two girls. His ears prick forward, a lazy little smirky grin forming on his muzzle. Perhaps the morning is looking up. Rising to his feet, Thatch lazily brushes sand from himself, looking back and forth between the two new arrivals.

Aha! Lorida squints back at the boardwalk, a glazed smile bubbling up to greet whatever she's spotted. A glance in that same direction doesn't reveal anything of import; a few morphs mill around, going about their usual business in a usually businessy sort of way. The Cherrim seems pleased, though, and with practiced fingers she snaps the camera on and raises it to an eye to focus in on her shot. Click! As the camera hums and begins to store its latest image, the girl returns her attention to the beach and whoever may be watching. Oh...! "H-hi," she says, her greeting high and nervous. She's not skipping school /again/, is she?

Raggi coils herself up as she sets her hair, taking her near-twenty-feet long frame and making her body and tail a bit springlike. Could she bounce upwards that way? Probably not, but it gives her a smaller 'footprint', ironically speaking. With her head at a tilt she smiles and gives a quiet wave to the newly waking 'dour, tying a ribbon and slopping the mass of bunched hair behind her, beginning on another batch. When the click of a shutter sounds, it turns her head the other way. Ah, the girl and her camera. "Out making photo-graphs again?"

School? What's that? His eyes shift between the wet-girl and the camera-girl. One has no legs and the other is more girl-shaped, and legs are a rather nice part of chicks, so it makes his decision on who to approach easier. Smirky little smile still in place, Thatch approaches Lorida directly, flexing the muscles in his shoulders and upper arms to make them look bigger. However, it never hurts to have a backup plan, so Raggi's wave gets a nod in return; if things don't work out with the flower girl, he can try the Dragonair one next. Thatch isn't strutting exactly, though he's not all that far from it. His gaze moves up and down Lorida, openly checking her out as he nears.

"Yes, um, yes," Lorida stutters, nodding so enthusiastically her uppermost petal bends back sharply with the force. Squeaking, she drops the camera back around her neck and snaps it straight with her hands. It holds for a moment or two, standing upright as it should, before drooping and folding over at the crease again. Her dilemma is cut short, however, as a new one presents itself. Her eyes drop and uncross as something blurry behind the petal begins to approach. It's--it's--oh gosh. The Cherrim-morph shrinks away from Thatch, her glazed smile still present but her pupils small and nervous. "Um, um. H-hi. You, um, want something? A picture?"

The dragon grins and slips back a bit, not necessarily sure what she's looking at in interaction terms, though it seems to be friendly for now at least. Raggi responds where she spoke, anyway, commenting; "Busy, isn't it. None of that hookey stuff? Or whatever that girl said y'were doing." Soon she's got all her hair sorted and that makes her able to breathe a little better. Ah, relaxing. "Oh, is he courting you? Aww, that's romantic." Obviously this girl comes from somewhere sheltered that time forgot to usher along. Or she's being sarcastic?

As he nears Lorida, Thatch adds none-too-subtle sniffing into his checking out of her, taking in her scent. Oh, he doesn't actually thrust his nose against her, but it's quite clear what he's doing. Does he want something? Flower girl's question makes his grin grow, flashing his canine teeth. His ears are pricked forward, eyes bright; 'prey' signals are picked up on. Mmmm. Even once he's close, Thatch doesn't stop walking, instead he lets his steps carry him behind her so he can check out her ass-- eh, check her out from all angles. "How about a picture of you?" he asks, trying to make his voice sound lower, more growly, sexier. Raggi's question stops him in his tracks, shifting his gaze from the flower to the dragon-thing. Courting? His nose wrinkles. Romantic? Blech. His eyes harden as he tries to send a nonverbal order at Raggi: Shoo! Go away!

Cherry blossoms. Cherries and clean air from the constant subconscious photosynthesizing. Her fingers grope compulsively at the camera around her neck as she shrinks and squirms beneath Thatch's predatory stare. "I'm, um, ah..." Lorida glances between the two morphs and swallows. "H-hookey, no, um--" She stops and jerks as the Houndour's voice suddenly hits her from behind, and with a spray of sand she spins around and backs toward Raggi. "I, uh, I don't h-have any of those. Sorry!" The loose petal droops in front of her face again, but her hands are too busy fiddling with the camera to brush it out of the way.

She misses such signs, and just looks on curiously. "Woah, I think you're moving a bit too quickly, mister..?" queries Raggi, who neither has shame nor reticence, and as Lorida backs up near her she takes her chance to try and snag the planty-morph with a hug. Well, she sounds like she needs a quick dose of feel-better, anyway. Regardless of that; "Not so nervous, dearie. And as a fire Pokemorph too, that wun' do her any good, nope." She guesses at it, moving head a little to the side as she peeks over at Thatch, still looking entirely friendly.

Well, cherries aren't Thatch's most favorite things ever, but he can't really expect a plant-thing to smell like a steak, right? And scent is hardly the most important thing about a girl anyway. Awww, Lorida turned, not letting him remain freely behind her. Excitement grows in his eyes as he follows her with his gaze. That's it, run away. Running makes it all the more exciting. His muzzle parts, tongue appearing as he licks his lips, eyes locked on her. His feet start moving as he slowly follows the flowergirl, stalking after her. "We could take some. You and me. Pictures." When Raggi interrupts /again/, Thatch shifts his eyes to her. "She wants me," he states in a perfectly matter-of-factly voice. 'And you're getting in the way,' goes unsaid only in words -- it's clear in his tone. The 'mister' gets a response, though it's both belatedly and annoyedly. Running a hand through his messy hair, he states his name. "Thatch." There, now shoo! Leave him and her alone! His advance has halted, at least so long as his newest girlfriend is wrapped up in such a big friend's protective "hug".

The hug is greeted with surprise, though not the cheery sort a friendly embrace usually encourages. Lorida lurches forward instinctively as she's snatched at from behind, shouting something incomprehensible while she tries to peel herself away from the Dragonair. It's only once she's out of Raggi's grasp that she turns and is confronted with the truth: she would have been a lot better off back there. Crossing her arms over her chest, she centers her bleary, nervous smile on Thatch and shakes her head. "Um, pictures, I, you, um, it...have to, er, pay. Um."

Yeah, Raggi doesn't keep hold of someone who doesn't wanna be kept, even in this situation. "So much for that idea," she says, nibbling on a bunch or two of her hair and stretching her tail out; it still doesn't seem like she's going anywhere. "Thatch, is it? And she wants you, right. Yes, I ought to have seen that from the abject look of fear. Right. I will sojourn an' let you lovebirds be." Of course, she's trying to get Lorida's attention with her flippancy more than actually be abrasive, an' she slides on along the beach, beginning the process of leaving. And a process it is, since her tail's still here. And here. And here... and she flips out her pocketwatch. She's not going to try and hypnotise anyone here, right? That would be quite bizarre.

Pay? Ugh. Thatch never has any money, and today's no different. His toothy grin falters for a moment before he covers the slip. It's neither cool nor sexy to be broke, so he's not about to admit to lacking cash! And yet, his flowergirl broke away from the dragon chick to be with him. The dog's grin widens, his eyes brightening. "Let's go for a walk," a wiser morph might phrase that as a question, but from Thatch it's an order. A sharp jerk of his head backs up his words, beckoning Lorida to his side. Then, in case the Dragonair fails to grasp the unspoken message /again/, he adds for her, "Alone." ...not that something with no legs could actually go on a walk with them, but it's best to be clear. He spares hardly a glance for the dragon as she starts babbling, though his eyes narrow around 'sojourn' (what the hell does /that/ mean?), but as he sees her leaving, Thatch gives a firm nod. "Good girl," he says, only partly under his breath. He keeps half an eye on her, though the majority of his attention returns to his newest girlfriend.

Lorida remains motionless, the bland smile frozen on her face as her fingers dig into the flesh of her arms. Only her eyes move, following after the retreating Dragonair like a pleading puppy. Don't leave her here! "I--" She chokes on the words at Thatch's sudden command, and if her muscles were in any position to do so she might just obey. All she can do is jerk nervously in his direction before rooting herself down again, her sneakers planted firmly in the sand. "I--I don't--" Her mouth twitches. There's the impression of screeching steel against steel as her head turns slowly, slowly toward Raggi's back; she should say something. She should.

[I really had to log, so posed out of order and then left the scene.]

An angry sigh from Thatch. He has neither time nor patience for typical-girl indecisiveness! First she wants him, then she starts playing hard to get? Sleeping would be better than this. Grumble. Lorida gets a highly annoyed glare, his hand lifting to run through his messy hair again. Women! More trouble than they're worth. He gives Lorida just another short moment to come to her senses, then makes a sharp turn and stomps off down the beach.




Wow, I had forgotten how long it took to edit RP logs. c.c
Tags: mush rp log thatch
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