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Greg Universe (
2017-03-27 04:15 am (UTC)
Greg Universe | open
A. Melemele (Day 73-74)
The weather is warm and pleasant, the view of the sea is lovely from this high up, the smell of fresh ripe berries and blooming tropical flowers fills the air. All this comes in stark contrast to the Yungoos's claws prodding a little too eagerly at Greg's shins.
"Ow, owow, hey, you already got some, don't get greedy, all right? Woaaah, gimme some space, bud." He waves off a Cutiefly trying to sneak its way closer by perching on his shoulder, while an impatient Chikorita rears on its back legs to try nipping at the bottom of the bag in Greg's hands. "Come on, guys, wait your turn, there's plenty if you just--
Greg hadn't planned on gaining this little entourage of Pokemon around him--he hadn't even bought any Pokeballs in town. All he'd wanted was to enjoy the nice view and chow down on all these malasadas he'd splurged on, and what's the harm in sharing a bit with curious Pokemon who came close? (The harm is he's going to get bowled over at this rate if someone doesn't come and help, is what.)
B. Akala (Day 76)
He stares over the list he's been handed. "Mushrooms, berries, seeds... we're just... foraging?" He'd heard these trials were supposed to be pretty tough, but this didn't sound so bad at all. Sure, the thick jungle foliage has turned the day to darkness, and already the humidity has soaked through his clothes, but being around all this plantlife makes Greg feel... nice. Energized. Hidden under his glamour, the flowers growing in his hair are blooming in the perfect environment.
Greg's nostrils flare, and the smells of the Lush Jungle feel sharper. "Yeah... yeah. We can do this. It'll be fun."
C. Carnival Grounds (closed)
Greg really hadn't planned on making a habit out of it--warning people away from carnival activities. It started with only purest intentions, truly. He catches a frustrated kid in a skull outfit on the verge of making a little property damage, he cuts in and points them to the hammer game to blow off steam. A giggling couple would ask which way to the dunk tank, and he'd point them instead towards games a little less rigged.
Before long, Greg realizes he's overemphasizing the importance of ticket management to any patron he speaks with. He points out which games they can afford, and reminds them to always double-check the cost. He's not sure when that habit started, but he sure knows the source. It's only right, isn't it? Things have progressed past him getting bitter over his employment. People have gotten hurt, nearly killed. Warning people away from working here is the least he can do. Heck, better to avoid bringing up the carnival at all to anyone he meets out on the islands.
After that, Greg gets a little more active in his helpfulness. He keeps an eye out for anyone who looks unsure where to go next, and starts the conversation himself. He starts keeping an extra roll of tickets on him to let people do quick exchanges when running low. Before the performance week is through, he's started butting in on any conversation veering towards payment or I.O.U.s, commenting a little too loudly on the killer interest rates around here. The pointed stares from interrupted workers is blithely and pleasantly ignored. Don't mind him. He's just fixing the lights.
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