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The Last of the Crossroaders: Charla Meets René (1)
Rene meets the last of the Crossroaders, Charla. Unfortunately she has a temper and Rene has issues with her mom and her relationship with another Crossroader...can you say, explosive much?
Category Story / Pokemon
Species Unspecified / Any
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File Size 83.5 kB
The Last of the Crossroaders: Charla Meets René
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“’ey René mon!” Floritt called as she saw René heading home from school the following day. “’ows’ my favrit li’l mon?” She asked as she rushed up and embraced the small fire-type.
“What's that supposed to mean?” René asked as he hugged her.
Floritt looked down at the tiny little Vulpix. “Oh, noting...” René caught her tone and looked up.
“Hey, I'm not THAT small. I'd say it to your face if I were a little taller...and if your breasts weren't in the way.”
“...I got big breasts?” Floritt blinked.
“Bigger than mine.” René shrugged. “Anyway, I meant, when I'm hugging you and I look up, they're in the way of me seeing your face.”
“...hmm...” Floritt mused as she tried to see if René's light enough for her to just pick up while still hugging him. Apparently, he was. “Is da view better now?”
“Yeah, thanks! Wow you're strong!” He blinked.
“I've had practice. Also, you could use a bit more meat in yer bones.”
“You think so?”
“Oh definitely. Little muscle, notin' much. You already got a decent runner build, but dere's still room fer improvement.”
“Well, what about you?” René asked. “You look like a twig! I mean that in a good way though.”
“Heh, tanks. As fer dat, I'm a dance fightah, mon. Most of me family is. I train ta be agile, flexible. "As whippy as me tail" as me dad put it once. 'Cerse, me mama told me when I was little, she said I was soooo skinny I made a Bellsprout look pudgy in comparison. Turned out I wasn't really fond of eating back then, was running about all da time but eatin' like a bird. 'Cuz, get dis, I said food was boring and gross-lookin'! But me mama got me ta eatin' more whether I liked it er not and, well...” She poked at her barely there pudge. “Now I really like eatin' if you couldn't tell.”
René poked said pudge. “That's nothing. You could work that off in a heartbeat.”
“Oh I dun doubt dat, but you get me point 'bout likin' food.” She shrugged.
“I’m wondering, just how do you use your tail in a battle?” René asked.
“Oh, dat's easy!” Floritt chirped as her tail danced behind her. “Me tail is maaaaagic! We Smeargles use Sketch while observin' or fightin' our opponents so we can copy 'em off to use for ourselves. 'Cerse, dis don't mean we're masters of it, so I still have to train like ev'ryone else ta get da move down pat. Say, if you used Flamethrowa' an I use me Sketch, I can learn ta do Flamethrowa' as well, but I woudn't be as good wit' it as you'd be, nor as powerful since I ain't a Fire-type.
“And if ya haven't guessed, most of what I know be Fightin'-type moves, tanks to me family. Also know some moves picked up from me team, tho' I still blow at 'em. I got a Light Screen from Nigel, but his is way strongah than mine 'cuz he uses it more.”
“What, because being able to paint someone purple isn’t enough?” René quipped.
“I dun just paint wit dis...and I dun't even just paint perple.” Floritt painted a circle in the air that disappeared after a moment. René noted it was orange. “I just paint perple 'cuz its me fave color. Plus it matches me eyes.”
“Oh. So it does. Well, I can do tricks with my abilities too.” René said, trying to sound impressive. He leaned his head back and spat a small ball of fire in the air. It flickered and sparked before vanishing. “Neat, huh?”
“Oooh, dat IS neat!” Floritt said. “Yanno, you should come watch one of me family's shows sometime! I do a few solo acts an' stuff!”
“That sounds cool! I will.” René grinned. “Heh, I was wondering how do you explain that time I saw you cartwheeling through the halls and painting the lockers?”
Floritt whimpered. “...You remember cake week at the cafeteria? You ever wonder why it ended so suddenly? THAT was why.”
“Aww...poor thing.” René hugged her. “Well, if it makes you feel better, it might have also been because Sam shoved Zap's head into one. Anyway you better keep away from pixie sticks then...”
Floritt hugged him back. “Prolly right 'bout dat.” She admitted. René blinked as he hands patted her bare back.
“Hmm, you like wearing backless shirts a lot, don't you?” He asked her.
“An' I do indeed, mon. I mean, main reason should be obvious by now, but I also just like da breeze.”
“It is; I thought I'd just mention the fact that since you don't have backs to your shirts you may want to avoid wearing low-riding jeans...and always wear underwear.” René added, recalling something noticed as Floritt cleaned the lockers.
“But...but I like low-riders...dey gimme more tail room. Da tail-holes on most jeans are too small and make me itchy dere, or too big an', well...” Floritt mentally counted the seconds until René blushed again. He didn't even make it two seconds.
“Please tell me this isn't something you figured out through trial and error!” He moaned.
“'Cerse I have. You of all people should kno' how hard shoppin' fer jeans can be!” She pointed to his tails.
“Yeah I know. Once I bought a pair of pants that had one big hole for all my tails. You couldn't SEE anything but I felt like I was mooning everyone I passed in the hall at school. I had a very cold bum when I sat in a chair...brrr.” He shivered.
“And dats why I needs me low-cuts! No worryin' 'bout da hole mean I can just move me tail freely wit no worry! So what if me panties peek a bit? I'm usually too busy puttin' me bum fer good use ta care!”
“ ‘Putting your bum to good use?’ ” René repeated. “You are the weirdest.”
Floritt blinked. “ ...fer workin' on me moves an' art. What you tink I talkin' about?”
“Nevermind.” René waved it off. Floritt just smirked as she brushed a hand against one of his tails. René flinched. “Hey those are sensitive!” He protested.
“Beeeeeg mistake tellin' me dat, mon.” Floritt grinned as she cuddled another tail with both hands. “Now ta get even fer before!”
René blushed and squirmed as she fondled his tails. “Quit it…” He whined. Taking pity on him, Floritt started massaging his tails. They ARE pretty fluffy and soft, not to mention warm. “Yiyi..that's the spot, right there--ah! Have you ever considered giving massages?”
“Yeh, yeh. An' I give me mama massages every now an' den, actually. An' I gave Charla one once, 'cuz she was sore.”
“What was Charla sore from? Practice?” René gave a quick chuckle. “Heh, better hope Nigel doesn't get jealous...”
Floritt gave the tail she was working on one a quick, “eeeee, soft!”-inducing hug before continuing, moving from one tail to the next massage-wise. “Yeh, practice. Like me she a physical fightah, so she strains herself alot durin' trainin'. Dat day she got a cramp in 'er leg an I offered ta help massage it. Hee, Nigel actually did want ta help heal 'er at ferst but Meg stopped 'im, tellin' im it wasn't an injury dat was worth faintin' over, literally.”
Those two...it funny. You see 'em togethah half the time, da last ting you'd tink was dat dey even LIKE each othah, let 'lone love...”
“Well, they're your screwy teammates not mine.” René pointed out. “When Romano like someone she just goes after him...whether he likes it or not. It's a little scary but straightforward.”
“I ain't deir keeper, mon. I can't tell Charla ta stop teasin' Nigel or tell Nigel 'ta quit hidin' behind his shields ta face 'er head on. 'Sides, Meg tried once. If SHE can't get thru wit' 'em, no one can....” Floritt resumed tail-massaging.
“It’s such a sore spot with them.” René shook his head and then stiffened, wincing in pain. “—And so is that spot right there! Yow!”
“Eep! Ok, I honestly didn't mean it dat time, sorry!” Floritt hastily apologized.
“No...I know.” He ground out. “I think you just rubbed the part of my tail that closed in a door last week. It really HURTS!”
“Hmm...here?” She tried to be extra-gentle to that spot softly brushing her fingers over the sore spot to see if that would do anything to relax the tail muscle. René winced then sighed.
“Yeah...there.” He sighed. “Ever have your tail stepped on or caught in something?”
Floritt kept at it “Yes. Often by me, believe it or not.” She answered.
“Thanks...that feels better. I believe it, happens to me a lot. But you're lucky...with this many furry tails this thing becomes an anchor when it’s wet. Nearly drowned myself a couple of times because of it.”
Floritt pulled her hand away and settled for just giving his tails a light caresses. “I can imagine. An' ta tink, when you evolve, yer gunna grow more of dese!” When he didn’t answer she hastily added. “Err...dat's assumin' you want ta evolve someday. Me species doesn't evolve, so I can't really relate to how dat must be like.”
René didn’t answer for a while. When he did he wasn’t looking at her. “I think, I have enough identity crises going on right now without worrying about that. I never really thought about it all that much.”
“Well, yer parents evolved, didn't dey? You never thought 'bout looking like dat?” Floritt prodded.
“My mother did.” René explained. “My father never did. Looking semi-cute makes his opponents underestimate him...then he can rob them blind.”
“An' da idea of looking like yer mama never crossed your mind, then?” She asked quietly.
“Not as such....she was beautiful. Radiant. Why try to compare to that?” René asked her.
“Well...you woudn't do it ta compete. It'd be more like a tribute, woudn't it? Livin' on fer her...” René looked away and wiped his eyes. “Eh, on second thought, mebbe I should stop talking.” Floritt sighed. Trying to lighten his spirits, she poked René in the nose gently with her tail, turning it pink.
“Um, why'd you do that?” René asked as he tried to look at his own nose and went cross-eyed. Floritt giggled at the way he tried to look at it.
“Dat's why.” She answered. René kept looking crosseyed and stuck out his tongue at her, pulling a comical face. Floritt covered her mouth as she let out a snort, laughing. René took that opportunity to tackle her and sit on her stomach
“Hah! Pinned you!” He boasted.
“HEY!” The smeargle objected as she rolled them over so she ended up laying on HIS stomach. “HAW! Pinned ya back!” René just looked past her.
“Oh, hello Nige!” He said. When Floritt turned to look he pinned her right back again.
“Wait, wh--AAH! 'EEEY! Ya cheatah!” Floritt protested.
“I'm a fox.” René shrugged. “It's all a matter of being clever.” He reminded her as he sat on her stomach and started tickling. “See?”
“Oh, since whe--heheheh, hey!”
“Nyaah!” René stuck out his tongue. “This is why I like playing with you! Everyone else is so stiff and serious all the time. I couldn't do this,” He tickled her some more. “To Nigel or Weaver!”
Floritt meanwhile was trying pathetically to fight back the tickling and failing. “Hahahaha, yeh...me 'ole group's like dat, though dey got deir moments.” She giggled. René took pity on her and let her up. To distract her from thoughts of revenge, he asked decided to ask her about her ‘'ole group.’
“How close are you to your fellow Crossroaders?” He asked.
“Well, 'hard ta say. I'm da newest membah so der still sum tings I've yet ta figure out - 'cerse, I'm a fast learner! - but hmm...” She paused as she thought it out.
“I def'nitely closest ta Meg, 'cuz when she not bein' a bossy leader, she can be serprisingly mellow an' cool. I just tink it her own pressah ta push 'erseld so hard ta live up to bein' a an actual Gym Leader dat has her like dat. Sad when ya tink 'bout it.
“Den comes Charla. She cool an' all but still has trouble bein' a team playah, if dat makes sense. Took Meg a long time ta find a compromise wit' her so she can put her strengths ta use for the sake of th' team. Me an' her dun talk much, least not personally.”
And den...well, you got ta see me an' Nigel fersthand, right? Cuz dat's how it is in a nutshell - we always debatin' ovah what's right if not just plain arguin'. We just 'ave too many tings in common, least from what Nige insists, tho' he wun't dwell on how. *sigh* He's stubborn, is all. He can be nice when he wants ta be an' even a gentleman in some tings...but he really really hard ta make open up to any of us, or at least me or Meg. I know 'e and Charla 'ave history but I dun kno' much of da details on dat.”
“I like Nigel and Meghan--her little sister is too cute for words--but I really hope you guys get to be as tight as me and mine...so you can suffer as I have suffered!” René snickered.
“Heheh, I doubt dat'd be a problem!” Floritt said, just before she noticed his omission. “Not Charl--oh...right, da ting....”
“Yeah...” René said a touch bitterly. “Amazing how having a bitch take a picture of your personal grief make you not want to hang around her kid.”
Floritt looked down. “Oh, now René, mon, dat ain't fair. She ain't her mama's keeper, ya kno'.”
“I know...I know.” René sighed. “But…”
“Still not fair, mon.” She insisted. “Bet she dun even know about it - or how you feel 'bout it, anyway. Look, I ain't gunna try ta change yer mind or nuthing, but tink it ovah. Would you like it if people thought you were a creep 'cuz of yer father?”
René winced. “Ouch. Low blow.”
“Had ta do it, mon. Sorry.” Floritt apologized as she gave his head a scritch.
“Yeah, well...” René changed the subject. “Say, do you like getting your doggy-ears scratched?”
“...Maybe...why do you ask....?”
“No reason.” René grinned as he scratched her ears. “I like them! They're so...floopy!”
“Oooh, Smeeeeagle.” Floritt sighed happily as she leaned her head in while he scratches her “dere, right dere, dere...mmmm...”
“It's like having the sentient puppy I always wanted...” René smirked.
“Veeeery funny, mon....and who told you you could stop? Otha' ear, please.”
“Okay.” René yielded as he proceeded to scritch the other ear. “Now, if I rub your tummy, does your leg kick?”
Floritt gave René a look. “Oh, it'll kick, alright...”
“Do you do tricks?” He teased.
“And now da joke's gettin' old.” Floritt said, deadpan. “...but I DO do tricks...tho' not without music.”
“Sorry...best to let sleeping dogs lie then.” René quipped. “What music?”
Before she answered Floritt gave René a light noogie on the head for that. “Well, any music, really. I dance, yanno.” René looked at her in mock astonishment.
“No! Really you dance? I never knew that!” He gaped. “I thought you were just having a seizure.” Floritt responded with another noogie.
“Ok, smarty mouth.” She challenged. “You got any tricks?”
René smiled. “Yep.” He managed to some control each his tail into moving in an individual manner, bobbing up and down like arms of a Hindu deity. Then he snorted fire out his nose.
“Ooh, neat! Hmm, lessee...” Floritt said as she spun her tail in the air for a brief moment. Leaf-shaped paint splattered, flying like a twister and then disappeared into the air. A taste of what was doubtlessly a Petal Dance move.
René was impressed but tried to cover for it by reminding Floritt, “Yeah? Well I got six tails to your one! Nyah!”
“Mebbe, but me tail can be taught nearly every move imaginable. Can any of yers do dat?” Floritt teased.
“Um, well they...” René tried doing something else with his tails but all he accomplished was getting them in a knot. “Ah, darn it!”
“Well, yers are fluffier, so ya win dere.” Floritt said graciously as she went over to try to untie them for him’
“Ouch! Ooh! Good now slide ow! Ouch! Hey! Watch your hand!”
“Den stand still! Yer bum looks like a hairy Tangela, mon!”
“Gee thanks, your butt looks great too.” René said sarcastically.
“Well, tank you! Now hold still, dis last one's stuck.On three, Imma gonna pull. One...Two...THREE!” She pulled.
“YEEEEOOOWWW!!! Geeze!” René gasped as he hugged the tail that was pulled. “Owowowowowowowow....”
Floritt ended up falling on her butt after that last effort to free René's tail. “Whew! Dere ya go, mon!”
“Thanks.” René hissed as he rubbed his tail. “Ooooh, the smarts.” A thought occurred to him. “I've always wondered, did you get your first name from the Baez's, from the orphanage, or from your biological parents?”
“I did get named by me current mama, yeh. She said I was named aftah an' old song she heard when she was little.”
“Um, I hate to appear insensitive but I was wondering has anyone ever given you trouble over the way you talk? I mean, I think your accent is cute and all, but it can make it hard to be understood. At the very least it makes you stand out...for good and ill.”
René meant the question in all innocence but Floritt still sounded alot louder and emotional than the norm when she replied. “Eh...I 'ave, yeh. People keep tinkin' I'm a ditz or someting whenever dey hear me talk. But den I realize that dey ferget I'm at dis school, dat I'm good 'nuff to be in here. I doin' me best in me family' honor and showin' me merit as a combatant, a student and as a 'mon and if dat's still not good 'nuff fer dem...den hey, dat's their problem, not mine. Life be too full of color ta be starin' at da gray spots all da time.”
“I’m sorry.” René apologized. “I didn't mean to upset you...I think your accent is cool.
“Eh? ...oh. Sorry, mon. And, heh...tanks.” Floritt shook her head. “Me Freshmon year I did a book report on the Flight Of The Dragonite, an ol' faerie tale I liked assa lil' kid. I tought it a good idea ta read a page aloud and half da class couldn't stop laughin', 'specially when had trouble pronouncin' a few werds then. I ended up 'avin' lunch in da bathroom dat day cus I didn't want ta list'n ta people's jokes...When I was younger, me accent was werse. Yeh, much werse. See t'ain't just an accent, I also had alot of trouble back then just talkin'. I was pretty shy growin' up an' didn't talk 'nuff with people. I kept ta myself, messin' wit me tail. It wasn't 'til I got adopted dat I started ta express myself openly mo', ta open myself up an' communicate with people. But 'cuz of dis, I was slow learnin' grammar an' pronounciation...so actually, next to me younger brothers, I have one of th' worst accents in me whole family.” Floritt shrugged. “But yanno, when I first became a Junior I promised myself dat while I should werk on bein' clearer with folks, I wasn't gunna let it stress me out like it did then. I was just gunna accept myself, you kno'?”
“Don't worry be happy, heh?” René asked.
Floritt winked. “Ya got it, mon.”
René laughed a little. Then he asked, “How old are your younger brothers again? I do some babysitting on the side, like with Meghan's little. She’s adorable.”
“Heh, I'll say...” Floritt agreed. “Dey're about thirteen now an me folks are mostly at home when dey dun 'ave gigs and stuff, so we dun really need a sittah fer anyting. No offense.”
“No problem.” René assured her. “It's just—” He looked around. Even though no one was around he still lowered his voice. “Since my dad and I are kinda upper-middle class or whatever I don't really need the money...it's just that whatever I make goes to Rahne. She refuses to take 'my' money--meaning whatever my dad throws at me to keep me out of his hair for a while--so the only thing she'll accept is money I work for...and trust me, it was hard getting her to accept even THAT much!”
Floritt’s eyes widened. “Ooooh...I ferget yer rich too. An' dat's nine an' noble of ya mon! Hmm,” She thought. “Maybe we could find ya anotha job ta do instead? Whut else 'sides sittin' can ya do?
“Does humiliating myself and getting beaten up count as a skill?” René asked bitterly.
“You can do bettah dan dat!” Floritt reproached him.
“Sorry. And I'm not so sure...I mean most of my talents include reading, crossdressing, singing (horribly), and goofing around. Not much demand for that.”
“...Actually, dose last two could be useful. Ya could do a gig wit us sometime. Da famileh at least. It ain't always all of us -- maybe we could team up fer an act.” Floritt suggested.
“What sort of acts does your family do?” He asked her. “I remember you mentioning something about them earlier.”
“Mostly charities an' stuff but also, mostly? Contest battles. We've actually won a few regional ones in da past.”
“Okaaay...what does that have to do with me signing badly and making a fool out of myself?”
“Most of me solo acts are comedy ones...” Floritt pointed out.
“I shouldn’t be surprised.” René groaned.
“What else were ya expectin', mon?” She grinned.
René shook his head. “I don’t know. It sounds frightening.”
“Frightenin'...or ya get ovah yer fears an' put yer clumsiness ta good use - ta amuse people. You already got charisma, woudn't take much fer folks ta like ya!”
“...Charisma? You think so?”
“I tink so.” She giggled. “An' I c’n tink up an act we can do, I'm da one wit da experience.”
“Yay. So glad to know I'm in the hands of an experienced screwball.” René teased. “I wonder if the crowd will understand why I’m the one who looks better in a dress.”
Floritt rolled her eyes. “Yanno, tinkin' of tat...ya mind if I ask ya a personal question, mon?” René shook his head. “Well, 'k...” She took a moment to pick out her right words...and lacking those, she tried with what she hoped wouldn’t be too bad to ask, “How long ya tink ya been seein' yerself like a female? Not like dis sort of ting happens ovahnight, yanno.”
René shrugged. “Oh. Well, I dunno. It's hard to pin down an exact date. I've always felt...at ill ease with myself. I mean...I didn't like playing sports, I didn't like arrogant macho stuff, I liked paying attention to what I wore...I really liked flowing outfits, kimonos, kilts, kikembes, headresses...I like female singers and thought girls were really cool. Not pretty or hot or that stuff, but cool. I didn't really realize that this meant until four or five years ago.”
“I tink I follow, mon.” Floritt nodded understandingly. “'eck, dunno if ya notice, but I'm not very feminin' myself. Could be from growing up in a mostly male household, but I dunno. Dresses are nice an' all, but I dun care fer fashion unless it something I can cust'mize fer myself. Or if I just need clothes ta be modest wit'.” She shrugged. “I'd go naked if I 'ad the chance, really.”
René started blushing again. “Too much info Floritt! I don't need to imagine you naked! No offense.”
Floritt smirked. “Considerin' whut I usually wear, not like you'd need dat much imagenin'!” She shook her head. “I always wondered, why d’you get 'long so well with Nigel?”
“I get along with Nigel because I want to be as girly as he looks and he wants to be as dissasociated with his appearance as I do. It's kinda ironic.” René said dryly. Floritt had to hold off laughing out loud as René explains his oddly-appropriate alliance with her group's solitary male.
“VERY ironic, mon. Very.” She agreed.
“Heh, like you’d even recognize irony if it came up and bit you on the tail.” René teased as he razzed her.
“--HEY!” Floritt razzed him back.
“A lady shouldn't do that.” René said as he grabbed her tongue.
“EEE!” She squealed while tongue was still held. “Huy, yooh a luhduh ah yuh yoo deh ih doo!”
“Beg pardon?” René blinked as he let go.
“I seh--oh.” She flicked her tongue out couple of times at a rapid pace as if to make sure it was still intact. “I said, yer a lady too an' ya did it ferst!” Floritt pointed out.
“No, I WISH I was a lady. Slight difference. You look like a frog when you do that.” He observed as he imitated her, his eyes bulging out as he flicked his tongue in and out.
“Well ya certainly won't be a lady actin' like dat! And speak fer yerself, ya look like a drnk Slowpoke!” Floritt countered as she emulated his own imitation of her right back at him.
“It's like looking into a mirror...a funhouse mirror!” René grinned right before he started up their old favorite pastime and started tickling her sides.
“--'EY! Cheatah!” Floritt protested as she tried to squirm away.
“Cunning like a fox!” René corrected as he kept on her.
“I didn' say cunni---Ahahahahahaha!” Floritt dissolved into laughter.
“What's that? Did you say that I'm the most cunning fox around? Say it!”
“Hahahaha NEVAH! HAHAHAHA!”
“I expected you to say that…” René grinned as he kept tickling.
“Yeh, but were you expecting -- OH! Hey Charla!” Floritt wheezed.
René scoffed as he remembered how he used this very ploy on her. “Yeah, like I'm gonna fall for my own trick!” He said as he kept tickling her. From behind him someone said:
“Hey, Floritt.”
“Huh?!” René gaped as he stopped and whirled around. Floritt sat up to catch her breath as René got distracted by, yes, the Luxray herself, who had been amusing herself watching the two at play.
Charla peered down at René. “And hello...I've seen you around a few times in school, I think?”
When Floritt finally sats up she looked to the Vulpix with concern. “Uh...Charla, dis is René. René, Charla. Please dun't kill each otha'.”
TBC
&&&
&&&
“’ey René mon!” Floritt called as she saw René heading home from school the following day. “’ows’ my favrit li’l mon?” She asked as she rushed up and embraced the small fire-type.
“What's that supposed to mean?” René asked as he hugged her.
Floritt looked down at the tiny little Vulpix. “Oh, noting...” René caught her tone and looked up.
“Hey, I'm not THAT small. I'd say it to your face if I were a little taller...and if your breasts weren't in the way.”
“...I got big breasts?” Floritt blinked.
“Bigger than mine.” René shrugged. “Anyway, I meant, when I'm hugging you and I look up, they're in the way of me seeing your face.”
“...hmm...” Floritt mused as she tried to see if René's light enough for her to just pick up while still hugging him. Apparently, he was. “Is da view better now?”
“Yeah, thanks! Wow you're strong!” He blinked.
“I've had practice. Also, you could use a bit more meat in yer bones.”
“You think so?”
“Oh definitely. Little muscle, notin' much. You already got a decent runner build, but dere's still room fer improvement.”
“Well, what about you?” René asked. “You look like a twig! I mean that in a good way though.”
“Heh, tanks. As fer dat, I'm a dance fightah, mon. Most of me family is. I train ta be agile, flexible. "As whippy as me tail" as me dad put it once. 'Cerse, me mama told me when I was little, she said I was soooo skinny I made a Bellsprout look pudgy in comparison. Turned out I wasn't really fond of eating back then, was running about all da time but eatin' like a bird. 'Cuz, get dis, I said food was boring and gross-lookin'! But me mama got me ta eatin' more whether I liked it er not and, well...” She poked at her barely there pudge. “Now I really like eatin' if you couldn't tell.”
René poked said pudge. “That's nothing. You could work that off in a heartbeat.”
“Oh I dun doubt dat, but you get me point 'bout likin' food.” She shrugged.
“I’m wondering, just how do you use your tail in a battle?” René asked.
“Oh, dat's easy!” Floritt chirped as her tail danced behind her. “Me tail is maaaaagic! We Smeargles use Sketch while observin' or fightin' our opponents so we can copy 'em off to use for ourselves. 'Cerse, dis don't mean we're masters of it, so I still have to train like ev'ryone else ta get da move down pat. Say, if you used Flamethrowa' an I use me Sketch, I can learn ta do Flamethrowa' as well, but I woudn't be as good wit' it as you'd be, nor as powerful since I ain't a Fire-type.
“And if ya haven't guessed, most of what I know be Fightin'-type moves, tanks to me family. Also know some moves picked up from me team, tho' I still blow at 'em. I got a Light Screen from Nigel, but his is way strongah than mine 'cuz he uses it more.”
“What, because being able to paint someone purple isn’t enough?” René quipped.
“I dun just paint wit dis...and I dun't even just paint perple.” Floritt painted a circle in the air that disappeared after a moment. René noted it was orange. “I just paint perple 'cuz its me fave color. Plus it matches me eyes.”
“Oh. So it does. Well, I can do tricks with my abilities too.” René said, trying to sound impressive. He leaned his head back and spat a small ball of fire in the air. It flickered and sparked before vanishing. “Neat, huh?”
“Oooh, dat IS neat!” Floritt said. “Yanno, you should come watch one of me family's shows sometime! I do a few solo acts an' stuff!”
“That sounds cool! I will.” René grinned. “Heh, I was wondering how do you explain that time I saw you cartwheeling through the halls and painting the lockers?”
Floritt whimpered. “...You remember cake week at the cafeteria? You ever wonder why it ended so suddenly? THAT was why.”
“Aww...poor thing.” René hugged her. “Well, if it makes you feel better, it might have also been because Sam shoved Zap's head into one. Anyway you better keep away from pixie sticks then...”
Floritt hugged him back. “Prolly right 'bout dat.” She admitted. René blinked as he hands patted her bare back.
“Hmm, you like wearing backless shirts a lot, don't you?” He asked her.
“An' I do indeed, mon. I mean, main reason should be obvious by now, but I also just like da breeze.”
“It is; I thought I'd just mention the fact that since you don't have backs to your shirts you may want to avoid wearing low-riding jeans...and always wear underwear.” René added, recalling something noticed as Floritt cleaned the lockers.
“But...but I like low-riders...dey gimme more tail room. Da tail-holes on most jeans are too small and make me itchy dere, or too big an', well...” Floritt mentally counted the seconds until René blushed again. He didn't even make it two seconds.
“Please tell me this isn't something you figured out through trial and error!” He moaned.
“'Cerse I have. You of all people should kno' how hard shoppin' fer jeans can be!” She pointed to his tails.
“Yeah I know. Once I bought a pair of pants that had one big hole for all my tails. You couldn't SEE anything but I felt like I was mooning everyone I passed in the hall at school. I had a very cold bum when I sat in a chair...brrr.” He shivered.
“And dats why I needs me low-cuts! No worryin' 'bout da hole mean I can just move me tail freely wit no worry! So what if me panties peek a bit? I'm usually too busy puttin' me bum fer good use ta care!”
“ ‘Putting your bum to good use?’ ” René repeated. “You are the weirdest.”
Floritt blinked. “ ...fer workin' on me moves an' art. What you tink I talkin' about?”
“Nevermind.” René waved it off. Floritt just smirked as she brushed a hand against one of his tails. René flinched. “Hey those are sensitive!” He protested.
“Beeeeeg mistake tellin' me dat, mon.” Floritt grinned as she cuddled another tail with both hands. “Now ta get even fer before!”
René blushed and squirmed as she fondled his tails. “Quit it…” He whined. Taking pity on him, Floritt started massaging his tails. They ARE pretty fluffy and soft, not to mention warm. “Yiyi..that's the spot, right there--ah! Have you ever considered giving massages?”
“Yeh, yeh. An' I give me mama massages every now an' den, actually. An' I gave Charla one once, 'cuz she was sore.”
“What was Charla sore from? Practice?” René gave a quick chuckle. “Heh, better hope Nigel doesn't get jealous...”
Floritt gave the tail she was working on one a quick, “eeeee, soft!”-inducing hug before continuing, moving from one tail to the next massage-wise. “Yeh, practice. Like me she a physical fightah, so she strains herself alot durin' trainin'. Dat day she got a cramp in 'er leg an I offered ta help massage it. Hee, Nigel actually did want ta help heal 'er at ferst but Meg stopped 'im, tellin' im it wasn't an injury dat was worth faintin' over, literally.”
Those two...it funny. You see 'em togethah half the time, da last ting you'd tink was dat dey even LIKE each othah, let 'lone love...”
“Well, they're your screwy teammates not mine.” René pointed out. “When Romano like someone she just goes after him...whether he likes it or not. It's a little scary but straightforward.”
“I ain't deir keeper, mon. I can't tell Charla ta stop teasin' Nigel or tell Nigel 'ta quit hidin' behind his shields ta face 'er head on. 'Sides, Meg tried once. If SHE can't get thru wit' 'em, no one can....” Floritt resumed tail-massaging.
“It’s such a sore spot with them.” René shook his head and then stiffened, wincing in pain. “—And so is that spot right there! Yow!”
“Eep! Ok, I honestly didn't mean it dat time, sorry!” Floritt hastily apologized.
“No...I know.” He ground out. “I think you just rubbed the part of my tail that closed in a door last week. It really HURTS!”
“Hmm...here?” She tried to be extra-gentle to that spot softly brushing her fingers over the sore spot to see if that would do anything to relax the tail muscle. René winced then sighed.
“Yeah...there.” He sighed. “Ever have your tail stepped on or caught in something?”
Floritt kept at it “Yes. Often by me, believe it or not.” She answered.
“Thanks...that feels better. I believe it, happens to me a lot. But you're lucky...with this many furry tails this thing becomes an anchor when it’s wet. Nearly drowned myself a couple of times because of it.”
Floritt pulled her hand away and settled for just giving his tails a light caresses. “I can imagine. An' ta tink, when you evolve, yer gunna grow more of dese!” When he didn’t answer she hastily added. “Err...dat's assumin' you want ta evolve someday. Me species doesn't evolve, so I can't really relate to how dat must be like.”
René didn’t answer for a while. When he did he wasn’t looking at her. “I think, I have enough identity crises going on right now without worrying about that. I never really thought about it all that much.”
“Well, yer parents evolved, didn't dey? You never thought 'bout looking like dat?” Floritt prodded.
“My mother did.” René explained. “My father never did. Looking semi-cute makes his opponents underestimate him...then he can rob them blind.”
“An' da idea of looking like yer mama never crossed your mind, then?” She asked quietly.
“Not as such....she was beautiful. Radiant. Why try to compare to that?” René asked her.
“Well...you woudn't do it ta compete. It'd be more like a tribute, woudn't it? Livin' on fer her...” René looked away and wiped his eyes. “Eh, on second thought, mebbe I should stop talking.” Floritt sighed. Trying to lighten his spirits, she poked René in the nose gently with her tail, turning it pink.
“Um, why'd you do that?” René asked as he tried to look at his own nose and went cross-eyed. Floritt giggled at the way he tried to look at it.
“Dat's why.” She answered. René kept looking crosseyed and stuck out his tongue at her, pulling a comical face. Floritt covered her mouth as she let out a snort, laughing. René took that opportunity to tackle her and sit on her stomach
“Hah! Pinned you!” He boasted.
“HEY!” The smeargle objected as she rolled them over so she ended up laying on HIS stomach. “HAW! Pinned ya back!” René just looked past her.
“Oh, hello Nige!” He said. When Floritt turned to look he pinned her right back again.
“Wait, wh--AAH! 'EEEY! Ya cheatah!” Floritt protested.
“I'm a fox.” René shrugged. “It's all a matter of being clever.” He reminded her as he sat on her stomach and started tickling. “See?”
“Oh, since whe--heheheh, hey!”
“Nyaah!” René stuck out his tongue. “This is why I like playing with you! Everyone else is so stiff and serious all the time. I couldn't do this,” He tickled her some more. “To Nigel or Weaver!”
Floritt meanwhile was trying pathetically to fight back the tickling and failing. “Hahahaha, yeh...me 'ole group's like dat, though dey got deir moments.” She giggled. René took pity on her and let her up. To distract her from thoughts of revenge, he asked decided to ask her about her ‘'ole group.’
“How close are you to your fellow Crossroaders?” He asked.
“Well, 'hard ta say. I'm da newest membah so der still sum tings I've yet ta figure out - 'cerse, I'm a fast learner! - but hmm...” She paused as she thought it out.
“I def'nitely closest ta Meg, 'cuz when she not bein' a bossy leader, she can be serprisingly mellow an' cool. I just tink it her own pressah ta push 'erseld so hard ta live up to bein' a an actual Gym Leader dat has her like dat. Sad when ya tink 'bout it.
“Den comes Charla. She cool an' all but still has trouble bein' a team playah, if dat makes sense. Took Meg a long time ta find a compromise wit' her so she can put her strengths ta use for the sake of th' team. Me an' her dun talk much, least not personally.”
And den...well, you got ta see me an' Nigel fersthand, right? Cuz dat's how it is in a nutshell - we always debatin' ovah what's right if not just plain arguin'. We just 'ave too many tings in common, least from what Nige insists, tho' he wun't dwell on how. *sigh* He's stubborn, is all. He can be nice when he wants ta be an' even a gentleman in some tings...but he really really hard ta make open up to any of us, or at least me or Meg. I know 'e and Charla 'ave history but I dun kno' much of da details on dat.”
“I like Nigel and Meghan--her little sister is too cute for words--but I really hope you guys get to be as tight as me and mine...so you can suffer as I have suffered!” René snickered.
“Heheh, I doubt dat'd be a problem!” Floritt said, just before she noticed his omission. “Not Charl--oh...right, da ting....”
“Yeah...” René said a touch bitterly. “Amazing how having a bitch take a picture of your personal grief make you not want to hang around her kid.”
Floritt looked down. “Oh, now René, mon, dat ain't fair. She ain't her mama's keeper, ya kno'.”
“I know...I know.” René sighed. “But…”
“Still not fair, mon.” She insisted. “Bet she dun even know about it - or how you feel 'bout it, anyway. Look, I ain't gunna try ta change yer mind or nuthing, but tink it ovah. Would you like it if people thought you were a creep 'cuz of yer father?”
René winced. “Ouch. Low blow.”
“Had ta do it, mon. Sorry.” Floritt apologized as she gave his head a scritch.
“Yeah, well...” René changed the subject. “Say, do you like getting your doggy-ears scratched?”
“...Maybe...why do you ask....?”
“No reason.” René grinned as he scratched her ears. “I like them! They're so...floopy!”
“Oooh, Smeeeeagle.” Floritt sighed happily as she leaned her head in while he scratches her “dere, right dere, dere...mmmm...”
“It's like having the sentient puppy I always wanted...” René smirked.
“Veeeery funny, mon....and who told you you could stop? Otha' ear, please.”
“Okay.” René yielded as he proceeded to scritch the other ear. “Now, if I rub your tummy, does your leg kick?”
Floritt gave René a look. “Oh, it'll kick, alright...”
“Do you do tricks?” He teased.
“And now da joke's gettin' old.” Floritt said, deadpan. “...but I DO do tricks...tho' not without music.”
“Sorry...best to let sleeping dogs lie then.” René quipped. “What music?”
Before she answered Floritt gave René a light noogie on the head for that. “Well, any music, really. I dance, yanno.” René looked at her in mock astonishment.
“No! Really you dance? I never knew that!” He gaped. “I thought you were just having a seizure.” Floritt responded with another noogie.
“Ok, smarty mouth.” She challenged. “You got any tricks?”
René smiled. “Yep.” He managed to some control each his tail into moving in an individual manner, bobbing up and down like arms of a Hindu deity. Then he snorted fire out his nose.
“Ooh, neat! Hmm, lessee...” Floritt said as she spun her tail in the air for a brief moment. Leaf-shaped paint splattered, flying like a twister and then disappeared into the air. A taste of what was doubtlessly a Petal Dance move.
René was impressed but tried to cover for it by reminding Floritt, “Yeah? Well I got six tails to your one! Nyah!”
“Mebbe, but me tail can be taught nearly every move imaginable. Can any of yers do dat?” Floritt teased.
“Um, well they...” René tried doing something else with his tails but all he accomplished was getting them in a knot. “Ah, darn it!”
“Well, yers are fluffier, so ya win dere.” Floritt said graciously as she went over to try to untie them for him’
“Ouch! Ooh! Good now slide ow! Ouch! Hey! Watch your hand!”
“Den stand still! Yer bum looks like a hairy Tangela, mon!”
“Gee thanks, your butt looks great too.” René said sarcastically.
“Well, tank you! Now hold still, dis last one's stuck.On three, Imma gonna pull. One...Two...THREE!” She pulled.
“YEEEEOOOWWW!!! Geeze!” René gasped as he hugged the tail that was pulled. “Owowowowowowowow....”
Floritt ended up falling on her butt after that last effort to free René's tail. “Whew! Dere ya go, mon!”
“Thanks.” René hissed as he rubbed his tail. “Ooooh, the smarts.” A thought occurred to him. “I've always wondered, did you get your first name from the Baez's, from the orphanage, or from your biological parents?”
“I did get named by me current mama, yeh. She said I was named aftah an' old song she heard when she was little.”
“Um, I hate to appear insensitive but I was wondering has anyone ever given you trouble over the way you talk? I mean, I think your accent is cute and all, but it can make it hard to be understood. At the very least it makes you stand out...for good and ill.”
René meant the question in all innocence but Floritt still sounded alot louder and emotional than the norm when she replied. “Eh...I 'ave, yeh. People keep tinkin' I'm a ditz or someting whenever dey hear me talk. But den I realize that dey ferget I'm at dis school, dat I'm good 'nuff to be in here. I doin' me best in me family' honor and showin' me merit as a combatant, a student and as a 'mon and if dat's still not good 'nuff fer dem...den hey, dat's their problem, not mine. Life be too full of color ta be starin' at da gray spots all da time.”
“I’m sorry.” René apologized. “I didn't mean to upset you...I think your accent is cool.
“Eh? ...oh. Sorry, mon. And, heh...tanks.” Floritt shook her head. “Me Freshmon year I did a book report on the Flight Of The Dragonite, an ol' faerie tale I liked assa lil' kid. I tought it a good idea ta read a page aloud and half da class couldn't stop laughin', 'specially when had trouble pronouncin' a few werds then. I ended up 'avin' lunch in da bathroom dat day cus I didn't want ta list'n ta people's jokes...When I was younger, me accent was werse. Yeh, much werse. See t'ain't just an accent, I also had alot of trouble back then just talkin'. I was pretty shy growin' up an' didn't talk 'nuff with people. I kept ta myself, messin' wit me tail. It wasn't 'til I got adopted dat I started ta express myself openly mo', ta open myself up an' communicate with people. But 'cuz of dis, I was slow learnin' grammar an' pronounciation...so actually, next to me younger brothers, I have one of th' worst accents in me whole family.” Floritt shrugged. “But yanno, when I first became a Junior I promised myself dat while I should werk on bein' clearer with folks, I wasn't gunna let it stress me out like it did then. I was just gunna accept myself, you kno'?”
“Don't worry be happy, heh?” René asked.
Floritt winked. “Ya got it, mon.”
René laughed a little. Then he asked, “How old are your younger brothers again? I do some babysitting on the side, like with Meghan's little. She’s adorable.”
“Heh, I'll say...” Floritt agreed. “Dey're about thirteen now an me folks are mostly at home when dey dun 'ave gigs and stuff, so we dun really need a sittah fer anyting. No offense.”
“No problem.” René assured her. “It's just—” He looked around. Even though no one was around he still lowered his voice. “Since my dad and I are kinda upper-middle class or whatever I don't really need the money...it's just that whatever I make goes to Rahne. She refuses to take 'my' money--meaning whatever my dad throws at me to keep me out of his hair for a while--so the only thing she'll accept is money I work for...and trust me, it was hard getting her to accept even THAT much!”
Floritt’s eyes widened. “Ooooh...I ferget yer rich too. An' dat's nine an' noble of ya mon! Hmm,” She thought. “Maybe we could find ya anotha job ta do instead? Whut else 'sides sittin' can ya do?
“Does humiliating myself and getting beaten up count as a skill?” René asked bitterly.
“You can do bettah dan dat!” Floritt reproached him.
“Sorry. And I'm not so sure...I mean most of my talents include reading, crossdressing, singing (horribly), and goofing around. Not much demand for that.”
“...Actually, dose last two could be useful. Ya could do a gig wit us sometime. Da famileh at least. It ain't always all of us -- maybe we could team up fer an act.” Floritt suggested.
“What sort of acts does your family do?” He asked her. “I remember you mentioning something about them earlier.”
“Mostly charities an' stuff but also, mostly? Contest battles. We've actually won a few regional ones in da past.”
“Okaaay...what does that have to do with me signing badly and making a fool out of myself?”
“Most of me solo acts are comedy ones...” Floritt pointed out.
“I shouldn’t be surprised.” René groaned.
“What else were ya expectin', mon?” She grinned.
René shook his head. “I don’t know. It sounds frightening.”
“Frightenin'...or ya get ovah yer fears an' put yer clumsiness ta good use - ta amuse people. You already got charisma, woudn't take much fer folks ta like ya!”
“...Charisma? You think so?”
“I tink so.” She giggled. “An' I c’n tink up an act we can do, I'm da one wit da experience.”
“Yay. So glad to know I'm in the hands of an experienced screwball.” René teased. “I wonder if the crowd will understand why I’m the one who looks better in a dress.”
Floritt rolled her eyes. “Yanno, tinkin' of tat...ya mind if I ask ya a personal question, mon?” René shook his head. “Well, 'k...” She took a moment to pick out her right words...and lacking those, she tried with what she hoped wouldn’t be too bad to ask, “How long ya tink ya been seein' yerself like a female? Not like dis sort of ting happens ovahnight, yanno.”
René shrugged. “Oh. Well, I dunno. It's hard to pin down an exact date. I've always felt...at ill ease with myself. I mean...I didn't like playing sports, I didn't like arrogant macho stuff, I liked paying attention to what I wore...I really liked flowing outfits, kimonos, kilts, kikembes, headresses...I like female singers and thought girls were really cool. Not pretty or hot or that stuff, but cool. I didn't really realize that this meant until four or five years ago.”
“I tink I follow, mon.” Floritt nodded understandingly. “'eck, dunno if ya notice, but I'm not very feminin' myself. Could be from growing up in a mostly male household, but I dunno. Dresses are nice an' all, but I dun care fer fashion unless it something I can cust'mize fer myself. Or if I just need clothes ta be modest wit'.” She shrugged. “I'd go naked if I 'ad the chance, really.”
René started blushing again. “Too much info Floritt! I don't need to imagine you naked! No offense.”
Floritt smirked. “Considerin' whut I usually wear, not like you'd need dat much imagenin'!” She shook her head. “I always wondered, why d’you get 'long so well with Nigel?”
“I get along with Nigel because I want to be as girly as he looks and he wants to be as dissasociated with his appearance as I do. It's kinda ironic.” René said dryly. Floritt had to hold off laughing out loud as René explains his oddly-appropriate alliance with her group's solitary male.
“VERY ironic, mon. Very.” She agreed.
“Heh, like you’d even recognize irony if it came up and bit you on the tail.” René teased as he razzed her.
“--HEY!” Floritt razzed him back.
“A lady shouldn't do that.” René said as he grabbed her tongue.
“EEE!” She squealed while tongue was still held. “Huy, yooh a luhduh ah yuh yoo deh ih doo!”
“Beg pardon?” René blinked as he let go.
“I seh--oh.” She flicked her tongue out couple of times at a rapid pace as if to make sure it was still intact. “I said, yer a lady too an' ya did it ferst!” Floritt pointed out.
“No, I WISH I was a lady. Slight difference. You look like a frog when you do that.” He observed as he imitated her, his eyes bulging out as he flicked his tongue in and out.
“Well ya certainly won't be a lady actin' like dat! And speak fer yerself, ya look like a drnk Slowpoke!” Floritt countered as she emulated his own imitation of her right back at him.
“It's like looking into a mirror...a funhouse mirror!” René grinned right before he started up their old favorite pastime and started tickling her sides.
“--'EY! Cheatah!” Floritt protested as she tried to squirm away.
“Cunning like a fox!” René corrected as he kept on her.
“I didn' say cunni---Ahahahahahaha!” Floritt dissolved into laughter.
“What's that? Did you say that I'm the most cunning fox around? Say it!”
“Hahahaha NEVAH! HAHAHAHA!”
“I expected you to say that…” René grinned as he kept tickling.
“Yeh, but were you expecting -- OH! Hey Charla!” Floritt wheezed.
René scoffed as he remembered how he used this very ploy on her. “Yeah, like I'm gonna fall for my own trick!” He said as he kept tickling her. From behind him someone said:
“Hey, Floritt.”
“Huh?!” René gaped as he stopped and whirled around. Floritt sat up to catch her breath as René got distracted by, yes, the Luxray herself, who had been amusing herself watching the two at play.
Charla peered down at René. “And hello...I've seen you around a few times in school, I think?”
When Floritt finally sats up she looked to the Vulpix with concern. “Uh...Charla, dis is René. René, Charla. Please dun't kill each otha'.”
TBC
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