welcome to calamity! we are an au pokemon site based in hoenn. we do not have canons so you can pick them as your fcs! we have a short one hundred word word count. and you get to also pick your own starter! calamity is going to focus on providing users with a good and stable plot line to follow. this helps each character progress and some might even have a play in affecting the plot! we hope you enjoy your time here and if you have any questions don't be afraid to ask.
hey guys! we've finally hit our three month mark! let's stay strong. the activity check and gala have ended, if your character has been archived and you need them back please pm one of the admins! unfortunately, noods has steped down from his admin position. make sure you say your goodbyes here!
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JUNE 18TH, 2015
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hello calamity! we're nearing the two months mark in a few weeks. how time flies! right now we have two things going on that need your participation. the first is an activity check! it is impotant that you check in so you don't lose your face claim. the second is the otm nomiations! we're doing it a bit different than last time. so please submit your nominations in. a vote thread will be up in the next few days. there will also be a formal event coming very soon, so keep your eye out for that. keep being cool!
we're currently about to host calamity's first contest in slatepor. trainers are flocking to the city to see, the city's been trying to get good pr since the gala, and it seems to be working! they're asking for both coordinators and volunteer judges to sign up.
CALAMITY is a roleplaying forum inspired by the popular franchise POKEMON, which does not belong to us. the skin was crafted by PHARAOH LEAP of GANGNAM STYLE. special thanks to SPIRAL for contributing ideas! all art on the forum does not belong to us unless stated otherwise, while all written works belong to the members who posted them. DO NOT TAKE ANYTHING that is not yours, please. thank you.
Post by "stomp" jenkins on Jun 9, 2015 2:41:57 GMT
a tear streamed down stomp's face. she reached toward her little baby, stroking its cheek - a cheek smooth like that of a baby's skin. it wasn't warm like she expected, though, instead it was a cold and still and didn't react to her motherly touch. stomp leaned forward, placing her head on that of her baby. nuzzling it lightly, she sniffled. "fuckin' allergies," she lied to herself. the girl opened her eyes, looking for the eyes to raise and meet hers. it felt like an eternity before the steel lids of her baby's eyes opened and she was face to face with the skarmory. a smile broke through the slightly rigid exterior of stomp, maintaining unsteadily like that of a wave ready to crash at any moment.
"you're so beautiful - i'm sorry. hello." the skarmory was taken aback slightly, rising to its feet as it realized the situation at hand. looking down, her blue-clad owner was wiping the dust from her pant legs and crawling up off her knees. the woman reached up to her right eye, rubbing it like on with allergies has to resist doing. the smile was not replaced, only dulled slightly as the post-nap euphoria and the "i have a fucking big bird its all mine!" cooled down. reaching to the skarmory's head, stomp lightly tugged at the blue cap that she had situated on its head and pulled it off, placing it back on her head. "i think i decided your name, just now." her voice was magnetic, compelling and attracting the world to revolve around her for a spin or two.
"lil' stomp. ls. liss, if you want." turning around, the woman distanced herself from the skarmory (deep down, she knew that it didn't like her that much, yet. she was less afraid of suffocating it and more afraid it'll turn on her and she wasn't ready to lose her baby). looking down the route, the girl took a deep breath as the journey in front of her began to elucidate in front of her. stomp envisioned the whole journey in this path, somehow, placed the difficulties and hardships and individual conflicts in each step. the little fire that burned behind her eyes was calm at this moment, extinguished by tears of happiness cried over the acquisition of skarmory. but she knew better than to trust herself. she tilted her head upward, smiling to the sun as she took a few steps forward. a pretentious little gesture, a magnificent "first step" on a journey with her head held as high as she could. skarmory followed in her footsteps, well, the one. impatient, the steel bird trudged on a little bit, brushing a metallic hollow wing against the woman's shoulder.
"take your fucking time, alright? why are you in such a hurry? you pokemon should enjoy the time you have, us people are the ones in a rush." her voice did not spike or get shrill, it was more of a declaration of information in a slightly angry tone. a "i've read books, you haven't, you have much to learn", if you will. stomp began down the path, skarmory at her side.
[attr="class","sv3"] This is a candied world, and it spreads like fire. When it devours me I call the burning 'fun', but I never really was the purist one. Though I try to cleanse my soul with every sun. And I just get deeper in the same shit but doesn't everyone? Close my eyes and play along.
She has a bird. A big fucking bird. A big fucking threatening silver bird. A big fucking threatening silver bird that was kind of in the way. 'Kind of' in this sense meaning 'entirely'. Then again he's not in a rush, or at least not in too much of a rush to miss the scene played before him. It was like... watching a play of sorts. one of those 10 minute plays that tried a little to hard to wheel emotion out of its patrons. Typically written by a struggling playwright who either hadn't the attention span or energy to write a full play, or was resigned into writing this ten short by friends and family, who of course don't want to invalidate the writer. So they enable them assuring the writer it'll be a good idea, yet take no blame when it falls through. The play having not elicited the response it so rightfully deserves. In the writers opinion at least.
The difference being the scene before him was actually pretty funny, funny enough to cause him to snicker, maybe a little too loudly at that. As the main actress, 'a blue haired young woman' continued to impart words of wisdom onto the supporting character, 'the giant fucking silver bird'. These words of hers were said as if she was a sage or elder far older and wiser than her body seemed to imply. It was something a grandfather would say while grandchildren were getting out of hand, all the while wondering exactly where their damn parents were.
For skits such as this only two actors are required, and so he looks away praying the duo doesn't become a trio, or rather a quad. The fourth possible character remaining hidden terrified of its natural predator, I.E the giant fucking silver bird. So he turns his head away stifling another laugh as the scene goes on knowing he's blown any kind of cover he has. How will he manage to play this off.
Notes: 'My posts will get better' I promise as the cycle begins again.
Post by "stomp" jenkins on Jun 9, 2015 15:10:25 GMT
a laughter in the distance didn't register to stomp, at first. typically, the soliloquy continued. "... and that, my friend, is why i have no regrets. i mean, yeah, there's negatives in everything - but in every experience there is positivity, you know? and if you are goin' too fast, you won't get all that positivity. it'll be a blur. and you'll remember the negatives." if talking aloud to a skarmory wasn't enough of a monologue in of itself, considering a giant metal bird was too busy being a giant metal bird to listen to her, skarmory somehow managed to make an even greater impression of "i'm not fucking listening this girl is crazy". if this is a play, it belongs entirely to stomp. the actress at her side had no idea she had any lines, had no idea what part they were at, wanted to move the fuck along.
stomp's moment continued, though, as she continued to the ride the waves of the change, breathing in those fresh fumes of a new journey. that laughter got louder, though, and stomp's blue eyes snapped forward and for a good moment the girl forgot to blink, much more to breathe. her most primal instinct was the only thing that remained; her back stayed straight and her hands balled into fists - she couldn't look weak. the paranoia was taking over, and at the very least she recognized that it was. why was she getting like this? god she was so fucking tense, it was just someone having a good time - that didn't mean they were making fun of her. ugh, she was so self-conscious, she wasn't even being loud. no one saw that. not everyone laughing was laughing at her, not everyone saw her be vulnerable.
the boyish girl turned her head to see that she was getting laughed at. she wasn't too set on breathing, yet, too lost in thought, but it seemed she let out a deep exhale via the anger management training that had been worked practically into her dna by now. stomp immediately averted her eyes as she realized that it was this red-headed stranger laughing at her, reaching up to pull her cap down a bit in an effort to hide the overwhelming emotion that welled up the blue hues. she bit her lip. now now, stomp, they are just children. they laugh for no reason. now now, stomp, they are just jealous of you - you are so cute and they aren't. big girls break bread with their enemies. she put a finger to the pocket under her eye. dry. thank god.
stomp turned again to the man. skarmory followed quietly, gazing at the stranger in the same "don't fuck with me" that stomp wished she could maintain at this moment. she held her head a bit low, still, the cap half-covering her large, expressive blue eyes. the tiny flame the eyes housed was crackling and stomp was slightly occupied by her own boiling anger. but she had to acknowledge this man. she had to confront him.
dealing with her anger was a choice, letting fuckboys know they were fuckboys was an obligation.
she worked herself up to look up to the red-head as they were now a mere meter apart. he probably thinks he's so fucking cool. she cursed him, in her mind. she didn't let the silence settle between them. "hi." the most awkward smile of all time, it couldn't have been more forced. it faded pretty quick, at least, leaving her face looking a little less distorted. "i would really appreciate it if you didn't laugh at me like that again, my fucked-up lil' friend." the girl doffed her hat, respectfully, replacing it on her head.
"now uh. you gonna take a stance, or just uh.. stand there?" stomp stood upright, planting her feet firmly into the ground, her leading foot getting into the ground with a much obliged stomp and her bare fists raising to her chest.
[attr="class","sv3"] This is a candied world, and it spreads like fire. When it devours me I call the burning 'fun', but I never really was the purist one. Though I try to cleanse my soul with every sun. And I just get deeper in the same shit but doesn't everyone? Close my eyes and play along.
'Scene 2: To be or Not to be a Fuckboy'
The title of what looked to be a comedy in three parts. The scene begins with the shorter capped girl noticing the stifled laughs, and will most likely end with the perpetrator of such a heinous crime face down in the dirt, with the fourth supporting actress scuttling wildly in an attempt to say 'Please get me the fuck out of here, this gigantic metal bird is going to fucking eat me.' To be entirely honest the final boss of 'Sly Cooper' was actually relatively passive throughout the situation: The laughing, the monologues, and the aggression in all. Not enough to be the lead character, but enough to be the favorite character. The 'Brutus' of 'Julius Caesar' would be the best example.
However he tries for a better ending. After all if everyone took a step back and perhaps chilled the fuck out Hamlet wouldn't be the tragedy it was, right? Unluckily it doesn't look like there Are really any steps to remedy. It's made to be a very simple 3 step process in all honesty after recounting what led to this situation
He becomes the 'fuckboy' She has an obligation Square up.
Still he tries to find a way to keep this situation from getting out of hand. His title already lost to the wind, and replaced with fuckboy regardless of what he does from this point on:
If he fights a girl both younger and smaller than him and wins, he's a cruel fuckboy.
If he refuses to fight for his honor, he's a cowardly misogynistic fuckboy.
If he fights a girl both younger and smaller than him and loses, he's a weak fuckboy.
In this choice of bad ends only one ends with hands not being thrown. And so while she takes a stance he attempts to ward the situation away. His surroundings come into focus, searching for something to attribute his laughter to. His luck like his sense of humor apparently of falls short, and he's met dead with the girl whose long since taken position. "Will you still hit me if I decide to just stand here?" A light laugh, it's more of an appeal than an attempt to reason with the girl currently.
"I wasn't really tryna make fun of you, feel me? It was just kinda cute I guess." He begins to paint the the picture, "A new trainer starting her journey, and it's kinda this big momentous thing with her gigantic bird and it's so important to you, but the bird seems passive at best." with the picture depicted the explanation continues. "It's just kinda funny in a very adorable newbie trainer type of way. definitely wasn't trying to be rude." he searches through the list of expressions he can make deciding a nervous smile is the best to claim in hopes of the girl acquitting him for his list of detestable fuckboy violations. They're only halfway through the scene and he hasn't ended up on his face yet thankfully. However the Larvesta cowering continues to shake behind him pulling at her trainers now understandably still trying to get the fuck out of here.
Post by "stomp" jenkins on Jun 9, 2015 17:47:19 GMT
skarmory's eyes, keen as they were, found the little bug scuttling behind the man. in the life she had lived before capture, her hunting was limited to far less exotic varieties, varieties that weren't pretty enough to have a fuckboy like this one to hide behind. there was a glint in the bird's eye, its willingness to obey its brand-new annoying master and its willingness to survive and feast clashing on a razor's edge. the bird's metallic wings rustled, if that's a sound they were even capable of making, as they splayed ever the slightest in a display not unlike that of when it would swoop down and eat that larvesta like a sugared cheerio. skarmory, however, held no contempt for the small bug or its owner, choosing to deflect the aura of hatred and paranoia that permeated from stomp.
the girl's eyes sharpened as the man took a stance. stomp's breathing became less "to stay alive" and more "to keep steady and throw these hands" as her heart rate climbed and her animalistic nature overrode the emotional and deep-thinking stomp that had been lecturing the skarmory just a moment ago. shakespeare knew that the audience liked but three things; comedy, action, and sex. stomp was probably a bit too clothed for that final appeal, but she was intent on making up for it with more violence. stomp could feel the ligaments in her fingers clench and strain as she tightened her fists way too tight, as if to harden her knuckles into stone or grow some fucking wolverine claws or something.
she realized that the man did not want to fight. her eyes lost some of their sharpness, but the flame behind them stayed. it had always made her mad, slightly, that these obvious fuckboys put on this chilvarous act of "i won't beat a girl". it wasn't rooted in their upbringing - if they gave a fuck about their upbringing they wouldn't make fun of her or laugh at strangers or be fuckboys at all. it was rooted in what other people thought, in the widespread idea that boys didn't beat girls and if you do beat up a girl, you are fucked up. fight me, damn it. the flame in her eyes returned twofold. as the further explanation was offered, she could only listen to her shaky breaths and feel the energies within her pulsate in an uneven mantra of "excuses, excuses, excuses".
"cute?" her voice went from the dull, blunt end to a small precipice in which it was ready to fall and break with any syllable. it was quiet. suspenseful, almost. "stop smiling you piece of shit that's not what you do right now." she averted her eyes, maintaining her boxing stance but letting her hands down towards her body ever the slightest. "this is my first day doing this pokemon thing, you know? its a big deal. and my bird knows its a big deal, too - don't talk shit about her. it'll be a struggle getting noticed as a laughing lil' fuckboy when you're 6 feet in the ground." she tried her best to be threatening. honestly, though, even if they were just excuses, it felt good to have someone see what she's doing and respect it or think its cute or whatever. it wasn't funny, hell no, but she liked to be recognized for her efforts.
"and i'll hit you if i damn well-" stomp moved her momentum forward, using what little anger she had left at this man to deliver a straight-punch into the center of his chest. it wasn't meant to hurt him, no, if she wanted to do that there was a whole stomach for her to easily lay into - or maybe she could have gone for a hook of some sorts though she was kind of towered over by the man. but she went for the punch to relieve her last bit of anger and knew that any pain he felt he deserved, so she put her body into it. "-please." she breathed relaxing little breaths, hoping she had at least knocked his out of him. she didn't prepare for a counterattack, figuring there wouldn't be one. relief found its place on her face, letting some of the tension from the scenario and her approach melt away. the skarmory behind her, though, eyeing the larvesta may have sustained some of that tension.
[attr="class","sv3"] This is a candied world, and it spreads like fire. When it devours me I call the burning 'fun', but I never really was the purist one. Though I try to cleanse my soul with every sun. And I just get deeper in the same shit but doesn't everyone? Close my eyes and play along.
All's well that ends with you getting thumped in your fucking chest. Honestly the situation had calmed in a very anime esque way. It made him look like a little bitch, but at least hands were kept were they belonged, by their side now as opposed to being lodged in his stomach, chest, or in any other unwanted place. She's definitely ended the final scene on a comedic note, only a shred of violence ending the play keeping the audience tame. He stores the word that de-claws the woman this time around, feeling it'd come to good use sooner or later. That was assuming the two met again further down the road, more specifically if they met somewhere down the road and she was ready to bash his face in again. But it's as they say 'there's no time like the present.' and so he focuses on the here and now anything else filed under the tag 'inconsequential' for the moment at least.
"Got it boss." He says recovering from the thump in the chest, it wasn't as much painful as it was a reminder to check himself. Following this young woman reveals herself as 'Stomp'. He quickly chooses not to comment on the name knowing it'd surely lead them back to square one, the difference being there'd be no chance to mitigate her anger that time around. After all; fuck around once and its a warning, fuck around twice and that's a life. It's a little lessons he learned growing up having got into his fair share of fights calling all the school yard kids to square the fuck up a time or two. Not exactly the fondest memories but they were his nonetheless.
"I'm apparently a 'laughing lil' fuckboy', but most call me Miles." there's a bit of sarcasm in his tone, but its far more playful than anything else now. As the two trainers chat however the Larvesta that accompanied him scuttled up his back, and onto his forehead for some reason thinking the gigantic flying steel death trap wouldn't hurt the male trainer. The glint in its eyes only having terrified the bug pokemon more. It honestly just wanted to leave this whatever 'this' was behind and keep it moving, her trainer however wasn't quite as anxious.
"We're in the same boat then. Just picked up my pokemon too. though I don't think I'm quite as ecstatic when it comes to starting as you are friend.
Post by "stomp" jenkins on Jun 10, 2015 2:11:43 GMT
stomp's arms fell to her side and she even smiled a genuine, happy little smile. that last bit of violent energy being expelled had felt great, and if nothing else she loved that this man's chest didn't cave in or anything to the love tap. there was always the slightest fear that she would claim a life with her violence, which was less a fear and more an absolute terror. if only the stranger had known that she only hit him at all because she respected that he didn't look like a fucking twig, maybe he would have felt happy knowing that the punch carried it with it a slight compliment. her eyes met that of the guy that had laughed at her, finding them to be not as ugly and faux-cute as she had just a moment ago. he actually had a tolerable appearance, not as plastic and awful as she had seen a moment ago.
the girl turned her head slightly as the fuckboy introduced himself as miles. a laugh escaped her lips and she shook her head at hearing the name. sure, her name was weird, but she was slightly inclined to take a weak shot or two at the man to make up for how much she just embarrassed herself by getting so angry like that. she wouldn't have to worry about it if she had beaten the shit out of him, but oh well. "miles? like tails prower?" she squinted, looking him dead in the eyes and down to his mouth. "i can see it. you got that 'less-than-adequate' sidekick vibe, man. i'd like you more if you were knuckles, though." an offhanded reference to wanting to fight him. because that was dope to joke about - or else, it made her feel okay to remark about it flippantly.
"what? are you too cool for real emotion or something? i'm sorry for being happy. admit it, she's fucking beautiful." stomp stroked the skarmory's head. it hadn't stopped regarding the larvesta. "ha mine is so much bigger than yours." she crouched down and tapped at the ground, trying to get the attention of the larvesta. "how does it feel to be a sidekick's sidekick, bug?" she held out her hand in an attempt to befriend it or - she didn't know - maybe it would smell her and acquaint itself with that or something? what did exotic bugs do, exactly?
notes
outkast is slam dunking my soul into the happy realm i can't channel anger, friend. "stomp" jenkins , Miles Serran
