Post by Pastyourbedtime on Mar 15, 2017 15:35:38 GMT -8
Fallon had accomplished everything she ever wanted. Yesterday, the bathroom scale had congratulated her in its cheery electronic voice for successfully shedding all 6 lbs and reaching her goal weight. The day before that, she finally discovered a foundation that matched her tan which she'd been perfecting for months. And today, she'd finished reading the penultimate fourth book in the Evening series. In all her 20 years, Fallon had never felt less fulfilled.
She placed her book down on the nightstand next to her hotel bed, still caught up in a story world that had nowhere else to go. Turning her head vacantly towards her Smeargle, who was napping in a sunbeam by the window, she began to wonder if he ever dreamed about her. It was more likely of course that he was dreaming about Owen, whose signature 40 minute shower was providing a calming white noise from the only other room in their modest lodgings.
The sound of running water came to an abrupt halt, giving Fallon an uncomfortable feeling that Owen had somehow learned her reading pace and planned his shower to end simultaneously with her book. It would be just like him to come up with some elaborate scheme for her not to be busy when he made his inevitable naked stride in front of her.
Sure enough, Owen wasted hardly any time before bursting through the door in a cloud of steam, toweling off his shaved head as he made a proud nude march around the room. Smeargle excitedly sprang to life and started following Owen around.
"Bathroom's all yours if you need it, babe." Owen said, aiming a kiss at Fallon's lips and receiving the side of her cheek as usual. This didn't bother him in the least, since it was immediately obvious to anybody who met him that he had never, and would likely never again, kiss a girl as stunningly, overwhelmingly, and magnificently beautiful as Fallon. The fact that a dweeb like Owen even managed to get cheek action was a great accomplishment, and the pictures they'd taken together on their travels (which he shared as often as possible) would inspire envy in men for years to come.
His naked body, which Fallon was doing her best to ignore, would inspire envy in nobody. Still, he prolonged the process of getting dressed. Rather than clothes, he withdrew a candy bar from his bag, breaking off two pieces before folding the foil wrapping over itself and tossing the rest back inside. Whenever he was naked, Fallon noticed, every action seemed to take him twice as long. Owen stuffed the candy in his mouth, then squatted down to pet Smeargle and give him the other piece.
The sight of this in her peripherals was enough for Fallon to finally cast a glance his way. "I've asked you to stop feeding him so much." She said coldly. He met her glare with a smile, and though their light blue eyes were almost identical in color, his were shining with amusement while hers were narrowed in disgust.
"He's a good boy." Owen stated, ignoring all the tense energy Fallon was firing his way, and instead focusing his attention back on Smeargle as if she'd said nothing at all.
"He's getting so fat." She continued, her anger growing as she propped herself upright in the bed.
"Well, yeah, babe," Owen laughed, walking closer and sitting his bare bottom on the edge of the mattress.
She hated how he called her babe when she'd been very careful to avoid making any real romantic commitments to him.
"It's a food tour. The whole point is to eat, and we still have almost all those Rage Candy Bars."
She hated how he kept justifying the stupid candy bars. It was his idea to buy so many back in Mahogany Town, yet he constantly brought up how burdensome they were as if it were a problem that never could have been avoided.
She hated how he carelessly left his wet towel on the nightstand and how it was soaking her book. She hated how he scooted his pale naked ass across the sheets to move closer to her. But of all the things Fallon had learned she hated about Owen, how he chose to conclude that particular train of thought was by far the worst of it all. "Who cares if we're all getting fat?"
For the first time in her life, Fallon touched Owen's naked body in bed, shoving him off of it with all of the strength that a 20 year old girl at her goal weight has. He fell painfully to the floor, and even in her outrage Fallon exuded grace. She swung her long legs elegantly off the bed as she rose to her feet, becoming alarmingly tall with the extra 6" her heels provided.
"First of all," Fallon screamed, her anger and volume at their peak. "There absolutely is not, and was never a 'we', there is me and my Pok?mon." The wet, scared, naked man on the floor flinched as Fallon moved to stand directly above him. "ALSO," she proceeded loudly, ensuring that any guest trying to sleep late this morning was now forced to start their day. "I am sick of your stupid towels-" She grabbed the damp towel to throw at him, hitting the shade of the lamp on the nightstand and almost knocking it over.
"Careful, the lamp," Owen said from the floor in a quiet panicked voice. His attempt at calming her down had quite the opposite effect. Fallon picked up the lamp roughly, unplugging it from the outlet on one wall as she hurled it across the room where it broke on the opposite.
Smeargle watched this in awe. He had always liked Owen. Owen gave him food and attention. But he was loyal to his trainer, and above all loyal to his own incredibly destructive tendencies. He could tell that an opportunity to cause destruction like this without being berated by Fallon, but actually joined by her, was a good enough reason to cut ties with Owen. While Fallon vented the rest of her frustrations, the Pok?mon immediately set to work trashing the room, leaving behind paw prints, pictures, and all manner of colorful markings with his rusty red, blood-like tail paint.
"And finally," Fallon said after a time, quieting down now as she felt she had reached the end of her rant. "Don't ever call me fat again."
Smeargle's artwork, when finished, always resembled a crime scene. But for once Fallon could see the creation that came from the destruction. Cobwebs covered every corner, catching paintdrops that glistened like garnets in the gossamer strands. She'd accidentally let him Sketch his Sticky Web attack when they'd stumbled across a pair of battling trainers a few days earlier. She had meant to locate the nearest certified move deleter soon, but now she changed her mind.
What surprised her most, though, was how none of her own belongings had been affected. All of her possessions were usually tucked safely away in the item storage section of her PC account, but the few things she'd brought into the room, like her makeup bag from the bathroom, or her book on the nightstand, were in a neat clean pile by the door. Normally, nothing was safe from Smeargle's artistic vision and she wasn't sure what changed.
Without any further hesitation, Fallon gathered her things, scooped Smeargle into her arms and stormed down the hallways, her heels clacking confidently and loudly. She heard a crinkling of foil as her Pok?mon took a bite from the Rage Candy Bar it had palmed during the chaos.
She snatched the candy from Smeargle's paws and took a large bite for herself before casting it aside along with the rest of her food tour.
Fallon knew she may never eat a Lava Cookie, or try every Malasada in Alola, but none of that mattered now. Because she'd tasted rage, and it was sweet.
In several brilliant flashes of light, Smeargle was returned to his Pokeball and Fallon released her Dragonite. With her adrenaline still pumping, and her head full of too many thoughts she couldn't figure out yet, she just needed to calm down and fly with her best friend. She didn't know what was going to happen next, but Fallon could feel her life changing before her eyes, and she had never felt better.
She placed her book down on the nightstand next to her hotel bed, still caught up in a story world that had nowhere else to go. Turning her head vacantly towards her Smeargle, who was napping in a sunbeam by the window, she began to wonder if he ever dreamed about her. It was more likely of course that he was dreaming about Owen, whose signature 40 minute shower was providing a calming white noise from the only other room in their modest lodgings.
The sound of running water came to an abrupt halt, giving Fallon an uncomfortable feeling that Owen had somehow learned her reading pace and planned his shower to end simultaneously with her book. It would be just like him to come up with some elaborate scheme for her not to be busy when he made his inevitable naked stride in front of her.
Sure enough, Owen wasted hardly any time before bursting through the door in a cloud of steam, toweling off his shaved head as he made a proud nude march around the room. Smeargle excitedly sprang to life and started following Owen around.
"Bathroom's all yours if you need it, babe." Owen said, aiming a kiss at Fallon's lips and receiving the side of her cheek as usual. This didn't bother him in the least, since it was immediately obvious to anybody who met him that he had never, and would likely never again, kiss a girl as stunningly, overwhelmingly, and magnificently beautiful as Fallon. The fact that a dweeb like Owen even managed to get cheek action was a great accomplishment, and the pictures they'd taken together on their travels (which he shared as often as possible) would inspire envy in men for years to come.
His naked body, which Fallon was doing her best to ignore, would inspire envy in nobody. Still, he prolonged the process of getting dressed. Rather than clothes, he withdrew a candy bar from his bag, breaking off two pieces before folding the foil wrapping over itself and tossing the rest back inside. Whenever he was naked, Fallon noticed, every action seemed to take him twice as long. Owen stuffed the candy in his mouth, then squatted down to pet Smeargle and give him the other piece.
The sight of this in her peripherals was enough for Fallon to finally cast a glance his way. "I've asked you to stop feeding him so much." She said coldly. He met her glare with a smile, and though their light blue eyes were almost identical in color, his were shining with amusement while hers were narrowed in disgust.
"He's a good boy." Owen stated, ignoring all the tense energy Fallon was firing his way, and instead focusing his attention back on Smeargle as if she'd said nothing at all.
"He's getting so fat." She continued, her anger growing as she propped herself upright in the bed.
"Well, yeah, babe," Owen laughed, walking closer and sitting his bare bottom on the edge of the mattress.
She hated how he called her babe when she'd been very careful to avoid making any real romantic commitments to him.
"It's a food tour. The whole point is to eat, and we still have almost all those Rage Candy Bars."
She hated how he kept justifying the stupid candy bars. It was his idea to buy so many back in Mahogany Town, yet he constantly brought up how burdensome they were as if it were a problem that never could have been avoided.
She hated how he carelessly left his wet towel on the nightstand and how it was soaking her book. She hated how he scooted his pale naked ass across the sheets to move closer to her. But of all the things Fallon had learned she hated about Owen, how he chose to conclude that particular train of thought was by far the worst of it all. "Who cares if we're all getting fat?"
For the first time in her life, Fallon touched Owen's naked body in bed, shoving him off of it with all of the strength that a 20 year old girl at her goal weight has. He fell painfully to the floor, and even in her outrage Fallon exuded grace. She swung her long legs elegantly off the bed as she rose to her feet, becoming alarmingly tall with the extra 6" her heels provided.
"First of all," Fallon screamed, her anger and volume at their peak. "There absolutely is not, and was never a 'we', there is me and my Pok?mon." The wet, scared, naked man on the floor flinched as Fallon moved to stand directly above him. "ALSO," she proceeded loudly, ensuring that any guest trying to sleep late this morning was now forced to start their day. "I am sick of your stupid towels-" She grabbed the damp towel to throw at him, hitting the shade of the lamp on the nightstand and almost knocking it over.
"Careful, the lamp," Owen said from the floor in a quiet panicked voice. His attempt at calming her down had quite the opposite effect. Fallon picked up the lamp roughly, unplugging it from the outlet on one wall as she hurled it across the room where it broke on the opposite.
Smeargle watched this in awe. He had always liked Owen. Owen gave him food and attention. But he was loyal to his trainer, and above all loyal to his own incredibly destructive tendencies. He could tell that an opportunity to cause destruction like this without being berated by Fallon, but actually joined by her, was a good enough reason to cut ties with Owen. While Fallon vented the rest of her frustrations, the Pok?mon immediately set to work trashing the room, leaving behind paw prints, pictures, and all manner of colorful markings with his rusty red, blood-like tail paint.
"And finally," Fallon said after a time, quieting down now as she felt she had reached the end of her rant. "Don't ever call me fat again."
Smeargle's artwork, when finished, always resembled a crime scene. But for once Fallon could see the creation that came from the destruction. Cobwebs covered every corner, catching paintdrops that glistened like garnets in the gossamer strands. She'd accidentally let him Sketch his Sticky Web attack when they'd stumbled across a pair of battling trainers a few days earlier. She had meant to locate the nearest certified move deleter soon, but now she changed her mind.
What surprised her most, though, was how none of her own belongings had been affected. All of her possessions were usually tucked safely away in the item storage section of her PC account, but the few things she'd brought into the room, like her makeup bag from the bathroom, or her book on the nightstand, were in a neat clean pile by the door. Normally, nothing was safe from Smeargle's artistic vision and she wasn't sure what changed.
Without any further hesitation, Fallon gathered her things, scooped Smeargle into her arms and stormed down the hallways, her heels clacking confidently and loudly. She heard a crinkling of foil as her Pok?mon took a bite from the Rage Candy Bar it had palmed during the chaos.
She snatched the candy from Smeargle's paws and took a large bite for herself before casting it aside along with the rest of her food tour.
Fallon knew she may never eat a Lava Cookie, or try every Malasada in Alola, but none of that mattered now. Because she'd tasted rage, and it was sweet.
In several brilliant flashes of light, Smeargle was returned to his Pokeball and Fallon released her Dragonite. With her adrenaline still pumping, and her head full of too many thoughts she couldn't figure out yet, she just needed to calm down and fly with her best friend. She didn't know what was going to happen next, but Fallon could feel her life changing before her eyes, and she had never felt better.