Post by Pom on Oct 13, 2024 5:00:21 GMT -5
Kissing flowers to keep them alive. How ridiculous was that?
But it was some sort of magic thing, and Pom was perhaps the only one on the planet who didn’t understand magic things. It was some sort of exchange of life energy-magic stuff, he reasoned. It made sense if he thought about it. So he snuck out in the dead of night to see the flowers. They seemed to glow under the moonlight, reveling in the cool bite of the autumn air. The colder it got, the more Pom thought of them withering away. And he tried to put off such an embarrassing thing, he really did, but he’d have to do it eventually. He’d have to do it tonight.
What did Rhuba say again? Pom couldn’t remember how many needed kisses, or if there was some special order he had to kiss them in. He knelt next to them for a few minutes, shivers crawling up his spine as he tried to remember just what he needed to do. The trip was so insane and eventful that he could hardly remember the conversations in between the high points. That was only reasonable! But unfortunate now that he had something utterly important to do. Eventually, Pom resigned to doing something he’d never cared to do before: overcompensate.
He tenderly cupped every last flower, placing a kiss on their soft, delicate petals. And he picked through every single one - though sometimes he’d lose track and double back, giving some of the flowers an extra kiss if they slipped his mind. It took a few minutes to give attention to every flower; Pom sure tried to count them at first, but then he lost count as he became more and more focused on his task. It was an important duty of his; he forgot his embarrassment, and even forgot how startled he’d be if someone caught him doing such a silly thing.
When he finished, Pom sat back on his heels and sighed. He was pretty sure he was finished, at least. And there was no way in hell he’d go over them all again. The majority of them were protected by the weird magic, and those who weren’t - if any at all.. well, they’d just die. It’d be okay. He could accept a few dying; it was much better than all of them dying, of course.
The effects of his midnight sneaking and the events from before were starting to weigh on him the longer he sat by the garden. Yes, with his mission accomplished and his cover still remaining, he could go on back inside and sleep the rest of the night. Pom stood up fully, raising his arms up in a stretch, before turning to go back into the guest house - no, his house.
But it was some sort of magic thing, and Pom was perhaps the only one on the planet who didn’t understand magic things. It was some sort of exchange of life energy-magic stuff, he reasoned. It made sense if he thought about it. So he snuck out in the dead of night to see the flowers. They seemed to glow under the moonlight, reveling in the cool bite of the autumn air. The colder it got, the more Pom thought of them withering away. And he tried to put off such an embarrassing thing, he really did, but he’d have to do it eventually. He’d have to do it tonight.
What did Rhuba say again? Pom couldn’t remember how many needed kisses, or if there was some special order he had to kiss them in. He knelt next to them for a few minutes, shivers crawling up his spine as he tried to remember just what he needed to do. The trip was so insane and eventful that he could hardly remember the conversations in between the high points. That was only reasonable! But unfortunate now that he had something utterly important to do. Eventually, Pom resigned to doing something he’d never cared to do before: overcompensate.
He tenderly cupped every last flower, placing a kiss on their soft, delicate petals. And he picked through every single one - though sometimes he’d lose track and double back, giving some of the flowers an extra kiss if they slipped his mind. It took a few minutes to give attention to every flower; Pom sure tried to count them at first, but then he lost count as he became more and more focused on his task. It was an important duty of his; he forgot his embarrassment, and even forgot how startled he’d be if someone caught him doing such a silly thing.
When he finished, Pom sat back on his heels and sighed. He was pretty sure he was finished, at least. And there was no way in hell he’d go over them all again. The majority of them were protected by the weird magic, and those who weren’t - if any at all.. well, they’d just die. It’d be okay. He could accept a few dying; it was much better than all of them dying, of course.
The effects of his midnight sneaking and the events from before were starting to weigh on him the longer he sat by the garden. Yes, with his mission accomplished and his cover still remaining, he could go on back inside and sleep the rest of the night. Pom stood up fully, raising his arms up in a stretch, before turning to go back into the guest house - no, his house.
OOC: something malicious brews…
WC: 476 (476 total)
PL: 30,000 (base)
Current Resources: Scouter, Destron Flask (0/1), Battle Armor (0/1), Armor Lining (0/1)
KP: 6/6
MP: 0/6
HP: 0/320 (140% crit threshold)
Traits: Hardy, Restrained Might (A), Metamorphosis (IA), Survivalist