Post by Affectionate Zombie on Sept 21, 2008 9:26:35 GMT -5
This was it.
Haven Dixie's fists were clenched tight and his big eyes were determined as he stared at the building which could very probably change his life for good. He was going to get a Pok?mon. He was going to be a trainer, and hell if he wasn't going to be a damn good one. For once, schedules were out the window, and he was going to be alone with no one but his Pok?mon and --
Arceus, that was kinda daunting now that he thought about it.
He had his music, which helped, but those stupid ears of his, all huge and loppy and... gahhh. There just weren't any headphones designed to fit ears like this. Pissin' him off, grrmmph...
Regardless, here he was, with earbuds jammed haphazardly into his huge Lopunny ears (he had worried for a second about damaging his eardrums by being so careless, but since he could still hear the Moonlight Sonata playing steadily, he didn't bother fretting much) and a closed door staring at him face-to-face. Not just any closed door, though. This was the door to the Kairuu Pok?mon Lab, and it was the door that would take him to his future. ... Hopefully. Hopefully the whole thing would work out, and wouldn't be a huge dud. He could hope, but damn if he wasn't a little worried. The music was soothing and kept him from panicking, and that was good. He wasn't going to have a panic attack. (Not yet, anyhoo.) There was always the chance that something dramatic would set him off, but... eh.
"Best get in there," he told himself, then thought with a hint of amusement and a dash of exasperation that talking to oneself was the first sign of insanity.
He opened the door.
Looking around quietly for a moment, Haven tried to observe the Lab's decorations and the like without actually being inside the building. From what he could tell, the place was... well, lab-like. Clean. Not terribly surprising. "'Lo?" he called out, blinking owlishly with those huge black-and-red eyes of his, long lashes tickling his high cheekbones. The feeling of it pissed him off, because before the whole stupid change, his eyelashes had never been that long or girly, never enough to tickle his skin when he blinked. It was just one of the many, many blaring reminders of his own idiocy, of the situation he was in and hated so much, and he felt a wave of bitterness -- something he was quite accustomed to at this point.
Pulling his earbuds out of his too-big, inhuman ears and shoving the speakers along with his MP3 player into his bag, he couldn't help but dwell once again on his appearance. (Not just the appearance, of course, because more than that had changed, but the appearance was what bothered Haven the most. He was the type to fret over images and the like.) He was such a girlish, freaky creature, now, wasn't he? Ridiculous. He felt like he was wearing a costume 24/7, and the stupid urges that spurred him to buy and wear the most damn girlish clothes in the universe didn't help at all. He'd never been much the neon-colored tank-top and short-shorts type, yet now he was, and at the same time wasn't, because he hated that he was. People gave him funny looks that he didn't like, as opposed to the looks he'd been used to before, the curious and even longing looks that had been spurred by his confident and composed way of moving and his polite and charming way of talking.
Images were all that mattered now, and damn, his image was awful.
At least he was skinny. 'Arceus, I'd go damn mad if on top o' e'erythin' else, got fat, too.' Then he'd probably run laps until he collapsed and starve himself to death.
He forced himself to stop thinking at that point. It wasn't doing anyone any good, and at the rate his thoughts were going, he was likely to be snappish and rude when someone appeared to assist him. He didn't want to be impolite. Charm was the key, even if... well, even if he wasn't quite comfortable in this damn body of his. Just better hope that whoever showed up didn't mistake him for a girl (or a "bird", as he might have said), because if they did he wasn't going to be able to guarantee their safety.
... Fuckin' girly hips, damn neon tank-tops, stupid ears, girly freakin' face... Gahhh...
Haven Dixie's fists were clenched tight and his big eyes were determined as he stared at the building which could very probably change his life for good. He was going to get a Pok?mon. He was going to be a trainer, and hell if he wasn't going to be a damn good one. For once, schedules were out the window, and he was going to be alone with no one but his Pok?mon and --
Arceus, that was kinda daunting now that he thought about it.
He had his music, which helped, but those stupid ears of his, all huge and loppy and... gahhh. There just weren't any headphones designed to fit ears like this. Pissin' him off, grrmmph...
Regardless, here he was, with earbuds jammed haphazardly into his huge Lopunny ears (he had worried for a second about damaging his eardrums by being so careless, but since he could still hear the Moonlight Sonata playing steadily, he didn't bother fretting much) and a closed door staring at him face-to-face. Not just any closed door, though. This was the door to the Kairuu Pok?mon Lab, and it was the door that would take him to his future. ... Hopefully. Hopefully the whole thing would work out, and wouldn't be a huge dud. He could hope, but damn if he wasn't a little worried. The music was soothing and kept him from panicking, and that was good. He wasn't going to have a panic attack. (Not yet, anyhoo.) There was always the chance that something dramatic would set him off, but... eh.
"Best get in there," he told himself, then thought with a hint of amusement and a dash of exasperation that talking to oneself was the first sign of insanity.
He opened the door.
Looking around quietly for a moment, Haven tried to observe the Lab's decorations and the like without actually being inside the building. From what he could tell, the place was... well, lab-like. Clean. Not terribly surprising. "'Lo?" he called out, blinking owlishly with those huge black-and-red eyes of his, long lashes tickling his high cheekbones. The feeling of it pissed him off, because before the whole stupid change, his eyelashes had never been that long or girly, never enough to tickle his skin when he blinked. It was just one of the many, many blaring reminders of his own idiocy, of the situation he was in and hated so much, and he felt a wave of bitterness -- something he was quite accustomed to at this point.
Pulling his earbuds out of his too-big, inhuman ears and shoving the speakers along with his MP3 player into his bag, he couldn't help but dwell once again on his appearance. (Not just the appearance, of course, because more than that had changed, but the appearance was what bothered Haven the most. He was the type to fret over images and the like.) He was such a girlish, freaky creature, now, wasn't he? Ridiculous. He felt like he was wearing a costume 24/7, and the stupid urges that spurred him to buy and wear the most damn girlish clothes in the universe didn't help at all. He'd never been much the neon-colored tank-top and short-shorts type, yet now he was, and at the same time wasn't, because he hated that he was. People gave him funny looks that he didn't like, as opposed to the looks he'd been used to before, the curious and even longing looks that had been spurred by his confident and composed way of moving and his polite and charming way of talking.
Images were all that mattered now, and damn, his image was awful.
At least he was skinny. 'Arceus, I'd go damn mad if on top o' e'erythin' else, got fat, too.' Then he'd probably run laps until he collapsed and starve himself to death.
He forced himself to stop thinking at that point. It wasn't doing anyone any good, and at the rate his thoughts were going, he was likely to be snappish and rude when someone appeared to assist him. He didn't want to be impolite. Charm was the key, even if... well, even if he wasn't quite comfortable in this damn body of his. Just better hope that whoever showed up didn't mistake him for a girl (or a "bird", as he might have said), because if they did he wasn't going to be able to guarantee their safety.
... Fuckin' girly hips, damn neon tank-tops, stupid ears, girly freakin' face... Gahhh...