kick the habits [closed]

[Isadore]

▶

ello! ;o)
feel free to join!
prefer at least 2 people to join 

The sunlight casted down its light unto the subtle ground below through the parts the pine needles didn't cover in their vast quantity. Wind carried scents of all kinds as it followed the sun to where it would disappear underneath the earth when night would approach later on. The soft, decaying brown pine needles on the floor was pressed against the mucky earth and a soft squishing sound was repeated in a pattern until a silhouette came out into a clearing, where the sun beat down on the earth harder and hence made the ground easier to traverse.

The silhouette was that of a young lucario, likely young adult-aged at first glance with his shades of raisin-black, shore blue and portraying that of a cornsilk torso in the calm fixture of these direct rays. A mixture of scents came off of him. The crisping dusted ore, drying the lungs. Often was this countered by the replenishing breeze, this made his construction shiver, the droplets of sea water forming underneath his downy fur, utterly soaked. Crumpled, cracked skin being crowned with carmine ooze. Lousy punctures had been drawn over his shoulder trembling his palms. Each grip could hardly feel the splintering bark of the forest. The bipedal 'mon had still lacked the momentum to race across these plantations with ease. Injured and so close to his destination. The heaving pockets of spirit being exhaled cut through the static climbing within in the air. Isadore's lanky posture quivered in his stumbling stride embedding an imprinting a footprint as he paused constantly. The harmless smoke being exhorted had been pierced by the next assault. Clenched fists draped in an alabaster veil, the propelling poliwrath directly summoned a dynamic punch. Engulfing beams recolored the darkness.

The jab was refrained, neutralized with an ice punch. Rime slinked across the enemies fingertips. Frost expanded into soaring mist springing around the two. However, the strict impact caused the air to slice. Scratches beginning to bloom across his forehead. The rows of blue, black, added red. Isadore's coat was disheveled rather unkempt from the boundless action of his day. Just a little too much he'd gone through already. Eventually, his eyes swelled with great thrill. "Honestly, you think you can beat me at my own game, ha." He leisurely scoffed with intense eyes beating through the particles of hoarfrost. A yawn forced his jaws apart, stretching them wide with the white of his lips pulling back to reveal sharp, off-white teeth while his black-rimmed eyes closed tightly. A chuckle mumbled through the pitching noise of the clashing elemental attacks. "YOU TAKE ME FOR JUST SWORDPLAY?!" The storming question tackled their eardrums, simply eroded the quietude. The growl that spit up was unusual as it pieced together his temper.  His incandescent power steaming through as it dismissed, adjusting his shoulders and tucking his fist, Isadore unlaced close combat. A temerarious attack, pelted at the enemy. However his regal attack would cost him a lot of energy. So it was intended to buy him some time.

Isadore pushed his frame to move forward, having him to rejoin the brush of greenery once more. The 'mon kept low until he had squeezed out of the space left between the trees, only then standing at his full, impressive height. He wound his way throughout the area with a slow, long gait, screwing his eyes shut every now and again as he waited for his body to fully wake up. The place was quiet, however slight tremors prowled the earth freely as he motioned closer. Pausing his steps, he craned his head so he could see whats ahead of the darkness. Quickly growing bored, he turned over his shoulder, heading toward another niche that was barely open just a crack. He pushed against the pale wood with his head, slipping inside with a simple stomp from tripping over the roots. The tall lucario strode over to the oversized trees in the middle of the plains climbing up with ease. He slowly crept toward the single branch which appeared more outstretched towards the composer of these quakes, crouching down and resting himself on top of the bump. He batted at the oddly colored edges. Safe? The notion was small, not broad enough to stop him. As he inched over he was in full view of the waterfall. Waterfall Caverns, nothing too fancy. Those old rumors surely aged alongside the myth of this place being stunning. But, it's exterior was not intimidating, maybe surprises had awaited him on the other side. 

Unplanned ear twitch had him draw his attention behind him. "Wha- ."  Strongly interrupted, swathed in the whirlpool, violently being absorbed in the choking waters. The invisible, stringing garrotes had his heart beat irregularly. Forcing air constricting him. Isadore made a hallowed bubbling sound, the water swallowed attempting to drowning him. The slowing moments had been released. Was he going to be caught? Thrown back to prison? Ugh, explorers. These radiant heroes…what blasphemy. They haven't even scratched the very surface of being a real hero. Refusal instantly mauled it's way to convince him to fight back. Luminescent oculars adjusted to a medium thistle, a feminine tint brushed across his lens. The rush smoothly drew the 'mon to position himself still within the case.

A single inspire followed by a hesitant emanate. He definitely thought of something before attacking. A something that crossed his mind a bit too soon or too late for him to casually ponder about. The light touch in his throat from the expiring taste of regret had been obtained. Finding himself descending. The forest dropped him it seems.

Whoops.

MADE BY ★MEULK OF GS

[Mageik]

One of the finer advantages to being a solitary being was that you only had to bother with yourself. The problems of another meant nothing. The cry of an infant would receive minuscule reactions, never once building up the desire to calm and coddle. The shriek of an innocent being cornered in a dungeon would not make the creature dash out to become a valiant knight in shining metal. It meant nothing to him, and he was more likely to sit back and observe the inevitable than to take action. All he had to trouble himself with were his own life goals. Grow stronger. Gain more knowledge. Meddling in the lives of others would hinder such causes, derailing the thought process of a being who could potentially perish if there was even a moment of lag between the four separate yet connected brains.

His intention to stay out of the lives of others was why he remained so disconnected from society, only going into the small settlements on the island whenever it was most necessary. The thirst for knowledge was what brought him back to civilization, to update his database on Moonlight Village. Yet, it was his ambition for vitality and vigor that had taken him to crave isolation. This ambition was what had brought him to the Waterfall Caverns, not far from civilization yet isolated enough that he believed he would have been uninterrupted in his training. Oh, how foolish of him to put faith in something as mislead as belief.

Like needles, the waterfall showered down, parting their path as a roadblock kept them from their imperfect descent. The steel frame rocked as the force of the sharp liquid pressed against the surface of his body, long arachnid-like legs tucked underneath the central body that levitated in the air. The illuminated silver cutting across the blue hid the black pits of his eyes, the world around him nothing more than darkness and the roar of the waterfall, muffling the streams of water thumping against steel. He had no intentions of moving, of entering the dungeon that lay just beyond the waterfall. That would prove nothing. That would enhance nothing. The waterfall provided a test of stamina, of force, giving a challenge that beckoned to see just how much the Metagross could handle.

He had been at it since the sun reached her highest point in the pale blue sky, though the exact time span was unknown to the alloy spider. There was a possibility of losing his concentration by the sights before him which, in turn, would cause the waterfall to win, thus losing the unspoken competition. He could not allow himself to fall victim to such trickery, so he remained where he was, surrounded by the darkness. There was a point when, through the roar of the falls, he thought he could sense something... Someone. He was uncertain, a feeling of which was foreign to the beast and confused him even more. It was a feeling that he wanted nothing to do with and would rather wipe from his database. If only it were that easy.

Taking the bait, red flickered in the black of his sunken eyes, the bright glow taking over as his senses were flooded with his surroundings. The Metagross's form lurched downward, pushing him closer to the jagged rocks and awaiting pool below, yet he caught himself just in time, pulling forward until he was in the air with only the spray from the waterfall behind him. The steel form focused on what laid ahead, his eyes targeting a falling object. From such a distance, he could not determine what the unidentified falling object could possibly be. He needed to be closer. Though, if allowed to continue to plummet to the UFO's demise, he might never truly know what his sensors had been so stubborn about to the point where he would allow it to disturb his training.

The Metagross gave into his curiosity, shooting off through the air as the silver metal crossing his face intensified its illumination alongside the glow of narrowed red eyes. Positioning himself much lower than the falling object and nearing at an alarming rate, the Metagross emitted a powerful psychic wave, bending the energy at his will to create netting made of nothing more than a pale glow. For all intents and purposes, the net should catch the falling form, assuming his calculations were correct--and they always were. The day they were wrong would be the day hell froze over. Yet, at the speed he was going, the Metagross had no plans on catching the falling object and just leaving it there in midair. The netting would go wherever he ended up, and the Metagross made a sharp turn after passing the mass of energy, heading right back to the waterfall.

ooc: hope you don't mine me joining in. x3 and i hope the post was decent enough for you. ;-;

[Isadore]

▶

ah!! it's simply wonderful
thank you for joining, i had some doubts that my post would be intimidating by length.

The early youth of these clouds hung low over the screaming sky, and chill winds breathed the promise of colder weather to come. In no hurry to shout, greeted him so domineeringly, a kiss of winter alike of the north. It came as early as the middle of his fall, and Isadore was afraid he had missed his window of chance before it would be too cold, but his luck, it seemed, more of a toll; either you have it or not…oh, shoot. Well, today was relatively warm for a change, a small blip in this frigid weather. But confusion for this sense of relief was never good. Turmoil was always an envious, dirty freak that always driven him to foolhardy conclusions. Binding his intellect for temporary moments was just enough time for him to-- really mess up everyone's fun, even his own sake. He knew he couldn't waste any more time in this. This free falling was treating him like a sore loser. He was beaten to a pulp, and boy, this was only the beginning of his day. Maybe if I didn’t say anything about what happened, we could get back to the way they were. Ignoring a problem was a perfectly acceptable way to deal with it, as long as both peers agree never to bring it up again. If he wasted this chance, then he would never leave….leave these desolate deserts building up between the spaces of his heart. Isadore's cranium lifted, his neck cramping mid-way while his eyes barely peeked through the mist filling stage. The leaking power took upon a form of delightful orbs that smeared the sky in color, spiriting so care-free. Pink. An ugly color, too bright for his mute raiment, so pure as clear water. It stood out amongst the blue and yellow fixture caused by time. A question had leached at the pocket of his thoughts. Was he always this resentful to the garment that belonged to a goddess?

The shore below the cliff was very small and narrow, barely a stretch of pebbly sand. The gray waters had contained hover steam, seemed like a pit. Obviously this was not the brightest idea to dive right in nor meet what is at the very bottom. He had envisioned simply, holding onto his shoulder to pressure the wounds as he prepared for his the merciless impact, but had quickly realized that was not going to work. His palm continuously slipped, his oculars trying to fight this withering moment. He had never been more nervous to be left without a reply. The weak sunlight filtering through the clouds may have warmed up the air, but below was still stingingly cold.

"…I'm so sick of fables." he muttered under his breath. The exploding air happening within his stomach, hunger tired only seeping through the cracks of his lousy grin. Beginning to attack, his voice knew that nothing could save him. A last howl that cursed these lands, no, rather cursed his prayers. The beast running free, rope unbound, never before had he felt so terrified as this fate teared it's way in. His wounds reacted, burning within the chemistry of his building fury. His blood stinging from his voice. Casual it seemed, he felt careful about holding onto this blindness a little longer. So he wouldn't worry about what was awaiting him down below, rather how his new place will never rest with his ghost.

Thump. For a moment, he forgot that this was reality. They all lived on a blue and green planet that revolved around the sun being accompanied by never-ending stars, he didn't believe in miracles, but there was no need for explanation for everything. Because discovery is only granted to those who accept their unknown fate. Sacrifices must be made, as hideous as it sounds, it was truth. Not truth itself.

…His anatomy was stagnant. Paused within place, construction laid repulsive. Dishonorable for a lucario to even be this weak.Bad enough that he couldn't land on his feet. He shook himself mentally. There was no going back on this- he knew he didn't belong here. His talk with Summit had proved it. Lunar Island was a nice island, a good area, but it was not for him. His orbs ruptured into a rubellite, reflected so daringly, a glassy-like material. Though quickly faded as the stinging salt entered his eyes. He had spent already three seasons thinking that being a part of it life would fill the gaps in his heart, but had been just as unable to adjust here was anywhere else. Whatever it was, that empty feeling... he wasn't sure. But he was not going to find it on Lunar Island. He remembered the tale his friend who had told him about other gods, when they had met on the beach last spring, a tale of another islands, bigger one, where strange creatures lived. There were other places across the sea. And he was itching to find out what they were like. This time, this one time, he, Isadore, was not going to turn tail and give up. But, what saved him to change his whole set about it, exactly?

His heavy bags held loose longer. A physic wave? His notion processed slow, unaware of the situation. He became slightly baffled about his rescue, such control was immensely rare, well, for him it was. Isadore regulated his breathing, it was warm, warmer than he remembered being in a long time. He had been rather drenched by the walking poisdeon for longer than he could remember, and yet he was now on land, almost. He took a ragged breath before choking on the clear air. For the past days he had breathed in nothing but the salty air of these water attacks and this fresh air burned his parched lungs. His mouth was dry, his tongue and lips chapped. The oceans water had tasted too foul to drink yet that constricting power that caused all of this doubtful thinking was concentrated enough have him to drink to heart's content, delusional became a mass result.

To his surprise his fur was somewhat matted and covered in salt, but for the first time in days he was dry, and on a nicely placed platform. He motioned his head around trying to remember how he had entangled in this strange new manifesto. He stood on shaky legs, wobbling slightly under his full weight. Even having lost some of his mass from being stranded here he was still a sturdy pokemon. He tried to brush off the muck over himself disgruntled at the thick layer of dirt that clung to her matted fur. His once beautiful malta-blue coat was now covered in sheets of red and a brown, one could only describe as musty. He shook trying to rid himself of the dirt to no avail. Though using his frame too soon had him completely tumble to his knees. But, falling made him sense something-- hold up someone?

He began to attempt walk, or hobble to be honest further along the edge listening for any signs of, well, life. He could smell all kinds of prey about, more than he thought possible. However, struggled to familiarize himself the metallic life form. My senses must be jumbled from the wreck. There is no way there are this many pokemon together in one place and I can't even pick up the one in front of me. He shuddered thinking about his last encounter with those barbarous officers. Couldn't see them coming, wiping their scent off of their tracks with ease. A simple tactic but required a lot of stamina to have this take to full effect. The damn brats must have been predisposed to challenge him again, because they knew right where to claw to make it matter. He had remembered the pain that their claws had caused when they had raked across his flank. But more than the pain he remembered the blood and how it oozed down over his side slowly, almost sickeningly as if to torment him. He had hoped that it would heal correctly but left some ragged tufts. Then the officers came to take him away. They had poked him and prodded him, feeding him terrible tasting dry food, until he was back to 'himself'.

The horrendous slop was horrible, enough bad trinkets to make him puke. It had taken time before he was able to do anything normal again. He longed for the day when he could go back to his palace of ice away from those hooligans, go back to a solitary, free life. It never came. Instead he was forced into this run that was cold and biting from every direction. He had growled and snarled until his throat was raw, but they didn't let him go. Ugh. Those were something alright. 

Dragging himself forward he pressed on feeling the related cold beneath his toes. He was far to weak to make a run, trapped in mid-air it was a rather pleasant feeling. Besides, if this were really an officer he'd be falling to his doom. They weren't so brave enough to assist a criminal. For once he was unhappy with his solitary, the silence was neck-breaking. "Hello there, twinkletoes." He noted, attempting to rub the salty liquid from his eyes. Sitting down like a riolu, he awaited for a decent reply. Simply smiling in the darkness of his for now, lost vision. 


@mageik

MADE BY ★MEULK OF GS

[Mageik]

Calculations correct. The one brain that chimed against the whirring of the others caused some form of relief within the metal monster. At least, he thought it was relief. Perhaps it was just a bloom of pride in his own abilities. Or, perhaps it was indifference. Any form of temporary emotions were, regrettably, hard for the Metagross to understand when it came to himself and, most times, other Pokemon. There were times when it was better to remain indifferent, however, such as when you were charging through the air while trying to keep a mass of psychic energy trailing behind you so you did not end up dropping your prize. Prize probably was not the proper term to use, but he could worry about the finer details later.

For now, he had to worry about getting the unidentified falling object--once more, he couldn't be bothered to spare any brain power diverting his concentration if he didn't want even the slightest possibility of dropping--to a safer place. A place where he could observe his findings and store the information away for later usage. Though, now that the other was within a much closer range, he could at least identify the being as a Pokemon, another steel type at that, but only partially. He would find out the rest once they landed... Wherever that may be. Despite heading straight for the towering waterfall, the Metagross made quick work of looking around, scanning the surroundings ahead for potential landing zones. There were too many slopes, too many boulders, and too many trees surrounding the lake that spilled into the ocean. If he wanted the stablest area to land, he would have to go through the waterfall. Granted, this would take them into the dungeon if he failed to time everything precisely.

As if he had a doubt in his own abilities.

A voice came from behind, breaking through the roar of the waterfall and the buzz of the robot's flight. Twinkletoes? Now, that was a new one. While he had the choice of answering the UFO, of returning the greeting, the Metagross decided it was safer to remain quiet as the waterfall grew increasingly larger before them. The silver pulsed with light as the psychic netting thickened, coming up from behind to encase the other Pokemon much like an egg, to provide a protective shield from all sides mere seconds before the Metagross dived through the waterfall, pulling the psychic egg with him. His legs untucked the moment he was through the rushing waters, flinging off the droplets that dared to remain clinging to his metal frame. The Metagross fell, landing with a loud crash and the groan of steel. He slowly turned around, ignoring the spray of water as he pulled the psychic egg the rest of the way through the waterfall, pulling the faint glow down until it was resting on the rocky surface a little farther away from the waterfall gate.

The silver crossing his face dulled, its brilliant light disappearing and taking the psychic energy with it. Glowing red eyes provided a faint hue of light in the darkness, making up for what little light could pass through the roaring water. The Metagross stood in silence for a moment before the central body dipped to the side just a little. "Twinkletoes?" He picked up one of his legs, examining the 'toes' beneath. The term was foreign to him, that much was obvious. Carefully setting back down his leg, he turned his full attention to the UFO. Or, rather, now that he was able to get a look at the... battered, bloodied, and matted canine, he was finally able to shift his brains into gear and bring up what information he knew about the one before him. Lucario echoed in his mind. This would be his first actual encounter with a Lucario, and he almost wished it was in a more favorable setting with a slightly healthier Lucario.

"Mageik," he produced his name, deciding to give the dual type the benefit of knowing his savior's name. At least, he would prefer to be called by his name rather than be called... Twinkletoes, whatever the Distortion World that meant. "Sensors show you are harmed. One a scale of one to ten, how would you rate your pain?" Because it wasn't obvious that it must hurt quite a lot to be in such a condition. It wasn't like he would know. He was a machine. The worst he has ever gotten were dents that took a while to fix, if they could be fixed at all. He did not have to worry about blood or something as fragile as flesh. Hm... They would need something to fix the UFO up. They were at the mouth of a dungeon, and dungeons had random items on the ground. He could potentially find some for healing, but he would have to take the 'patient' with him due to dungeons and their strange rules...

ooc: i went there. it took me a while to read your post just because your word craft is far more superior than mine. pff. your writing length as well. omfg. i can only get that much if my character preaches about nothing.

[Isadore]

▶

it's a bad habit forgive me.
Not always do I use good words, sometimes I just juggle words and phrases that mean the same,  sometimes become repetitive. 

Goosebumps whipped across his mane, whiskers quivered as it picked up movement, the sharpened invisible thought harped across his spine. He knew those walls were closing in. Baffled, Isadore backward rolled avoiding the encasing material just in time. His aura-sensing appendages faltered as he tried to tame his balance within the sphere. Adjusting himself in a crouched position holding on as long as he could. Obviously at the rate they were going he began to slide across the bubble. "Oh! Neat, neat." He suddenly complimented, plainly adding as if this was some kiddie ride. "Might I know where we are going?" Isadore could barely see from the mottled sight or even hear himself speak. The colliding waves were coating over his speech. Disgust plastered upon his face, his brow trudged slightly in a twitch. He was never use to closing his eyes, especially during these important moments. Just a recap, he was saved. That's the only plus he needed to keep chill about entrusting this stranger. Making a scene now will have him running stray again at least he has some time on his hand to recuperate. His eyes began to break open, though drooped with exhaustion.

The cough was beginning to tire out his lungs and bring fatigue to his whole body. It felt as if his lanky body was sinking into the ground, his messy fur melting into the nest of this energy ball and slight coldness caused from the cave they entered beneath his weight. His head felt light, and eventually he gave into its pleas and laid it atop his paws. Ruby pupils, large and round, fixated for a moment on his black-toned toes, now dingy and unkept from being roughed up from the heated ground. His toes were nearly indistinguishable from the rest of his slender legs in color; the sloppy mud that caked the fur worked up past his ankles and smothered the lower bits of his legs in dirty brown. Normally he would take a quick moment to wipe himself down, but he was just on the edge of sleep, and it seemed just too minor a detail at the moment to attend to. Not enough energy for that. So tired...

Eventually the ride pulled to a complete stop, the received news broke his slothfulness. A soft wheeze puffed out as he gazed over at the glossed object, pristine eyes were superlative. The spirit of inquiry was visible. The fashioned duo analyzed him as if they never seen his typing before. Well, he wasn't all to aware that he was chased to a place without much thought put into where he was exactly heading too.

"mageik,"

Mageik? A name to keep in check from now on. Uniquely different than what he's use to hearing especially for a Metagross. Nobility usually was granted to these steel-type cousins at the Jagged Castle making them a tad bit difficult to even remember their alias fully. The towering frame was gargantuan, his seating wasn't much of a help to reassure him, falling back in the bubble carelessly had the lucario wince like earlier as the surface straightened his bony backside. "Tsk."

"sensors show you are harmed. one a scale of one to ten, how would you rate your pain?"

In all honesty Isadore could care less about his health. Reckless fool he was turning out to be, the building up flaws are tainting his title. But he still did not tamper with it and proceeded as so. He always managed through the struggles, it was a common thing to face. But, he hated to worry the 'mon with his problem. Isadore dipped his head to Mageik quickly and somewhat awkwardly before slipping into a slouch. Glancing back, he thought he caught a slight twinge of disappointment in Mageik's face as the shade splashed over his body. His ears flicked. How strange. Perhaps he'd just imagined it. Turning his head back to match his feet, he felt the strain of a cough welling up in his chest. He suppressed it, though, so as not to spat a moss clump everywhere, as well as to keep the mood mellow and tranquil as it should be. 

"Uh…..3." The coughing fit he'd been holding in suddenly erupting from his lungs. As it died down, he felt himself more and more weighed down with exhaustion and embarrassment. It was funny how illness could do that to you. He blinked his avoiding eyes, now somewhat dulled with fatigue, looking at how far he felt was from the one he was speaking too. Somewhat awkwardly, the gangly warrior softly prodded closer pressing his palm on the bubble. "AHA, it's not even right for me to say such a low number. Here's something to plug, 8. Four for physical, Four for mentally. All kinds of damages happen to 'mons surviving this…dark life. For now my best guess, it seems that my approximate calculation have dulled out too soon." He placed his palm over his forehead, the burning fever only made him provide a self-satisfied smile, jokingly pressing on his wounds as if they were minor. "…How is it so? That there's a 'mon that still cares about the health of an exile?" A loud exhale was breathed, bothersome way of words that had Isadore snare into the act of kindness. 

Isadore found himself sitting down, collapsing rather harshly, shielded deep down in his heart. Pain, an unexplainable thing casted upon everyone. Fleshy ones knew the burden. Unlike rock types and steel types with armor that grows beautiful and stronger as they age. He had no intentions on being assisted. Maybe he was only asking this question for the sake of making sure he was kept alive if he were to turn him in. Possibly waiting to make his move and finish him off for his own boost to glory and justice. He shouldn't get so close to the drafty entrance, it was helping those starless thoughts. He felt somewhat guilty; he hoped he wouldn't keep up all night with his coughing and the sort. 


@mageik

MADE BY ★MEULK OF GS

[Hane Sukeru]

  Spatterings of water splashed across the entrance to the Waterfall Caverns, the spray from the mighty waterfall soaking the rocks right at the lip of the entrance, and the misted droplets dampening the rest of the cavern and slickening the stone underfoot. The ferocious roar of the waterfall deafened any who would stand at the edge, but faded to a steady growl further in, a monotonous sound that firmly took its place in the backround, ever present and powerful. Steady drippings from the various scattered stalactites that hung above also added to the steady drone of sound in the cave. 
  Yet, despite all of the consistent noise flowing into the cavern that marked the begining of a dungeon, it was a very relazing place to meditate, with the steady rumbling of the waterfall helping to drown out troubling and persistant thoughts and clear the mind of any worries or woes and provide a clean slate upon which one can careful think out their thoughts without the constant influx of thoughts. It was also generally a very isolated spot, with perhaps only the curagious adventurer or two, come questing in the dungeon beneath.
  Yet, that seemed to not be the case this time. Voices penetrated the peace of the cavern, echoing above the sounds of the mighty waterfall's steady pounding. Intruders to this place of meditation. Not, not really intruders. It was unfair to call them that, this place did not truly belong to anyone, and was, more then that, the entrance to a known and recorded dungeon. It was open to all and free to enter, at the acknowledgment of the risks that may come upon oneself. To claim it as one's own property would surely incur several issues, least of which being the current residents who resided in the dungeon just below.
  Something seemed to be ill matter of the newest guests to the Waterfall Caverns though. The tang of blood was in the air, easily detected by the predatorial sharp nose. The distinct iron smell of blood, made stronger by the actual infusion of metal. A steel type would be the assumed guess. The monotomy of one of the voices, with its steady mechanical droning and heavy tone, led to the belief that the other was steel type as well. It seemed higly unlikely that the mechanical voice would belong to the one whose scent tasted of blood. A voice like that would not likely belong to a body made of flesh and blood, one capable of bleeding. The scent of blood was heavy though, and growing steadily thicker. Whomever was injured was in dire need of medical assistance, for such a strong scent of blood could only mean heavy bleeding, or perhaps a multitude of wounds.
  Claws scraped across the uneven and rough surface of the cavern floor, clicking across the stone. The was a soft rustling of feathers and a brief rasp of feathers dragging across the floor for a moment. Eyes blinked slowly in the dim light, staying closed a moment as the figure paused, it's movement ceasing save for the closing of its eyes. They opened again swiftly with a snap of the eyelids, revealing sharp blue irises. The stride forward resumed with determination, the dim sunlight slowly strengthening as it approached the waterfall, drawing closer to the two very different pokemon before it. The decreasingly dim light dully shone upon colored feathers and scales, portraying the vibrant plumage in such shaded light as to give them the appearance of dullness or faded color.
  The archen paused a satisfactory number of paces from the pair, his head tilted to a slight degree as he studied the unusual duo. His initial guess had been correct, and the pair were indeed steel types, but of two wholly different kinds. And indeed, only one was made of flesh, and he was in grave conditions. Hane remained where he was though, at a suitable distance for when dealing with strangers. He would wait for their acknowledgement before deciding upon further action, as was perhaps a wiser course pf action to take in the face of multiple pokemon of unkown identities and attitudes, despite, or perhaps especially, in the case of dire injury, where the best or the worst may be easily triggered in a weakened pokemon if faced with a possible percieved threat.

(OOC: whew, thats done. I believe that is acceptable detailed out, and it is acceptable I presume?)