sameryū jōkomon | nanabantai fuku | wip

Mitsuhide Juro, born the son of highly prominent medical shinigami Mitzuhide Ikutsuki and valiant housewife and professional negotiations officer for Central 46 Tsukikawa Nouhime, should have had a normal childhood. Laughing and playing the days away without a care in the world. Suffice to say... he did not. Instead it is a twisted mess of death, violence and instability.

So... what happened, you may ask?

The death of his father. On his 34th excursion into the Human World, the sad news came back to them from the words written on the crisp piece of paper which dropped through the post. unbeknownst to the man who delivered the letter, who walked on happily throughout his day, thinking that such an official document was some form of mortgage request. but then again, why was he to care? It was his job to deliver, not inquire what the letter was about. no... what he had brought to Juro's family... was their destruction.

A deafening wail from the mother, as her son was struck squarely in the cheek by swinging hand. The hand that once held his own, did so much for him, was now trying to hurt him. As tears streamed down his six year old face, he was struck repeatedly by his mother, those tortured eyes burning into his very soul. For the first time in his life, he knew he was hated. Why, he had no idea. But it was so intense that it drove his own mother to try and kill him. She took the red hot pan from the stove, striking him across the face, again and again, until the flesh seared and the blood turned to steam.

The neighbors, hearing the turmoil going on next door, intervened, one of them being an off-duty Shinigami. Juro's mother was taken to a mental institution, where she would live out her days as her son surpassed her and forgot her.

The crippled and dying child was brought into Seireitei and healed by members of Squad 4. It was the first time he had ever seen Shinigami in uniform and working and he never forgot that moment, even today.

The shrill screeching of the alarm awoke the sleeping blonde-haired woman, an alert that she was sure she had muted several times before. Alyssa's room, part of a huge complex designed for the housing of trainers that had found themselves as a part of the illustrious organisation known as the Elite Four. Ms. Melons' particular section of the compound was essentially all one room, built on different levels with small dashings of stairs to lead up to these different areas inside the one room. Don't mistake this for being small however, it is quite the opposite, with a towering ceiling and vast amounts of space, adorned with a crystalline skylight, clear white walls and slate grey marble flooring and counters.

Alyssa has a particular decor style, shall we say. The generic ones she received as a gift upon moving into the complex she promptly burned at her first convenience, their boring white color making Alyssa sick to the stomach. Now, they were replaced by velvet pink, each adorned with a black symbol shaped like an Aggron and each holding intricate gold lace around the edges.

It was from within the depths of this velvet pink sea that the messy-haired, tired-eyed blond woman rose, groaning as the sunlight streamed in from above. Naturally, from that night's drinking she had acquired a massive hangover headache, which seemed to cloud her memory slightly. It took her several minutes of sitting up in the bed to realize what, and indeed who, she had done last night. There had been this very attractive black-haired lady that Alyssa had proceeded to, ahem, 'work her charms on' and she had brought the woman back for some late night light reading, shall we say. Grinning, Alyssa turned her head, expecting to see the woman lying there next to her, but seeing only a blank space. With a sigh of disappointment, the blonde-haired Elite Four sat up, stretching and yawning loudly.

This hangover would pass with a good shower, that always seemed to work for Alyssa. None of that fancy medicine or whatever, just a good old shower seemed to relieve the aches and pains of the night before. Maybe it was just due to her affliction that the negative effects of the alcohol seemed to drain away in response to outside stimuli... or maybe Alyssa was just so damn used to it now that her brain just didn't bother to put her into a hangover state for very long. Either way, Alyssa couldn't help but feel slightly grateful.

With another groan she pushed herself up off the soft bed, padding slowly over towards the nicely tiled bathroom where her trusty hairbrush was waiting. Frankly, she hadn't bothered to put clothes back on for the trip to the bathroom, considering she'd just be taking them off anyway but she couldn't help but wonder if the press had figured a way onto her roof yet.

Her haystack hair was starting to get on her nerves currently, so she was glad that her feet had finally found the cool, smooth tiles of the stark white bathroom. The sliding door shower loomed ahead, which Alyssa promptly took her tired self into, sliding the door closed behind her lazily with her toe. Mashing the button with a pair of stiff fingers, Alyssa sighed in comfort as the warm water cascades across her pale skin, feeling the throbbing headache beginning to ebb away into the recesses of her mind.

After several minutes of relaxation in the water, Alyssa turned off the water, stepping out of the sliding door and humming to herself as she snatched a towel from the rack, rubbing herself quickly with the soft fabric, before wrapping it around her ample chest and snatching up the hair drier. It took several minutes to work her luscious locks back to their original shimmering beauty, shaking her hair to let it fall free behind her and letting the towel drop into the washing basket for later clean up by the maids.

Pulling herself away from her reflection, Alyssa found herself searching through her ever-expanding wardrobe in an endeavor that every woman seemed to have in the morning. What to wear. What to wear indeed. Feeling it was better to look at her schedule first, she did so, sliding the little digital touch-pad device she was using as her fail-safe, her guide throughout the day. Flicking through it she found her entry for today, noticing a rather large section that, due to her tiredness, was difficult to make out. She read it over several times. 'WINTER. BALL. WINTER. BALL.' Finally it clicked in her mind. The dance, the Winter Ball, the huge event that she had been invited to, had been so excited for, forgotten after one night with an attractive lady friend. Love-making is quite the distraction, it seemed.

In any case it was probably a good idea to pick something formal to wear, something that may or may not help her in a nice little game of 'Chick Pick-up'. After all, Alyssa's bed was so bouncy and soft and nicely kept, so why not share it, right? Flicking through her dress section, she paused on a few dresses that she liked, before frowning and moving on. It was only after about half an hour of searching that she found something that she thought perfect. A rather tight-fitting dress, tailor-made for Alyssa's figure, colored a deep velvet red and adorned with a single red rose at the front located at the hip. The dress was incredibly tight at the skirt section, similar in design in fact to a secretary's skirt, though a particularly large section was cut from the hem right to the hip, triangular in shape and obviously meant to show of the wearer's entire thigh. Quite a risque dress, as one might imagine, though that seemed to fit Alyssa's overall character well. Selecting a pair of gold platform heels and a pair of elbow gloves that matched the dress' style, material and color, both adorned with a red rose between the middle and ring fingers.

Satisfied with her choice, she lay them down on the bed, before picking out her usual black shihakushou, slipping hakama on first, securing it with the white obi sash and then fastening the kosode over her front, as usual leaving a good portion of her cleavage visible. Deciding it was foolish to try and walk all the way to the party in those heels, she instead pulled on a pair of white socks and simple gold sandals, quickly fastening them to her feet and standing once again fron the edge of the bed.

Again humming a merry little tune to herself, she decided it would be a good idea to carry the dress and heels in a little bag, which she promptly retrieved from the kitchen, carefully placing the folded velvet cloth into it's depths and placing the shimmering shoes in on top. The gloves she delicately folded as well, placing them next to the shoes, before lifting the bag a little to test it's weight.

There was an outstanding issue though. Despite the fact that the Pokemon League is the closest piece of land in Hoenn to Johto, there was still miles and miles of water to cover between her and the party. The obvious way would be flying, but that would mess up her hair, a central part of her appearance. Surfing would take far too long to be worthwhile and Aggron, while a very powerful swimmer, is quite the heavy son of a gun. Perhaps a trip back to Slateport to catch the ferry would be the most efficient way, though forking out money was never her style. Ah well, there wasn't really any other way, was there?

Snatching up her clothes bag and little red handbag, within which she had placed the pokeballs of her trusty Aggron and Skarmory, leaving the others behind so as to avoid having to take her larger handbag. Stepping up to the door and placing her pink silk boa over her shoulders, she looked back for a moment on her apartment, before slipping out and locking the door behind her.

--------

With a sigh Alyssa stepped off the particularly large boat, trying not to let the certain degree of drama she had caused on board get to her. Hitting on the Captain shouldn't have been such a big deal, right? She was such a cutie, you could hardly blame Alyssa for wanting to... 'get to know her' a little better. Some people are just far too up-tight.

She ignored the angry yelling of the Captain as the crew tried to hold the woman back, Alyssa simply stepping away, thinking about the party she was going to. The blonde-haired woman had arrived in the bustling city of Goldenrod, which she knew was nowhere near where she wanted to be. Still, the city was lively, full of people moving hurriedly to different jobs, meeting different people. Plus, she couldn't help but want to check out the department store. No, no, she must stay on course. She could come back later.

After searching around for quite a while, it became evident that the only way she was getting to Blackthorn City without messing up her hair was to fork out more cash. With a sigh, she handed a stack of several hundred Pokedollars to the rather stubby and sweaty cab driver, before slipping into the back seat of the large yellow car.

There was so much she wanted to explore in this region, so many beautiful sights she had seen in the lumpy seat of the old car, completely blanking the driver's attempts at polite conversation. Perhaps she would have to some exploring like in her old trainer days, go do a little hiking for a while. Johto was such a lovely place, so very vibrant and fun. Hoenn, Alyssa felt, was very much more industrial and grown up, though there were some places she hadn't had a chance to explore yet, like the island of Dewford, or even the whole of Rustboro City. It really took her back to those days with Amy, how she missed them. Ah well, she had a responsibility now, right? To be the last obstacle in the way of all Trainers who wish to be named the Champion of the Hoenn Region.

She barely registered the words of the cab driver as he slowed to a stop in front of the entrance of the Ice Path. When she did, she merely left the cab, not speaking a word to the man, nor even indicating that she had heard him. Alyssa heard him grumble something under his breath but she ignored whatever it was he said, flicking the door shut quickly. She was here, finally.

It was quite obvious to see from the way people were dressed that it was a formal occasion, which quite honestly made Alyssa quite disappointed. Being the only one there in formal clothing would have made her stand out more but ah well, things don't always go the way you plan them, right?

After a few moments she found herself inside, looking around at the intricate designs along the walls, in her mind comparing them to the inside of her Elite Four battle chamber. Not bad, not bad. But it still couldn't hold a candle to the illustrious beauty of Alyssa's Elite Four ballroom. In any case, next thing was to find somewhere she could change. Following a stream of people, she found her way into one of the spare rooms, which were being used as changing rooms by the attendants of the ball.

With a deep breath she began getting undressed, folding her kosode, hakama, obi, white socks and sandals, placing them into the bag where the dress once was. Then, she unzipped the tight little dress, pulling it up from her ankles and then refastening it when it reached her large chest, noticing for the first time that it was in fact a bustier. Huh, how did she not notice that before? In any case, this certainly helped the sex appeal side of things. Smiling to herself as she donned the gold platform heels and red velvet gloves, looking at herself in the mirror quickly.

As soon as she stepped out she felt the eyes of almost everyone in the queue for the changing rooms looking everywhere but her face. She giggled a little to herself, before moving back to the main room, just in time feel a rather small woman fall into her arms, the girl's face bouncing off of Alyssa's ample chest. After a moment she realized that it was her old friend Brittani in a cute little pink dress looking extremely cute. Several moments passed before she moved Brittani, looking into her eyes with an amused grin.

"Oh my, are you alright, Brittani?"

do not fill this out until you are given your class and level by staff.

do not fill this out until you are given your class and level by staff.

Resonate!

N/A