Pokemon Apocalyptic RP | Euthanasia

[Honey!]

[OOC: Not much planning went into this! Feel free to play as a pokemon or trainer, and be sure to add on to it as we go! I know the idea seems silly but vgjdafsm. The premise is aliens, and humans have taken shelter underground]

  Honey raps her knuckles against the padded walls walls rhythmically, her free hand idly scratching at her minccino's velvety soft fur. The top covering of the insulation was beginning to peel away, revealing the cottony substance beneath. Her bunker's maintenance has really been slacking.. But, really, when weren't they? Although.. there are much more important things to think about right now. Such as what lies a few minutes into her future.. The Ceremony. Each year there is an event held in which a select few are gifted pokemon bred by the complex's breeders. They are entrusted with their very own pokeball, a rare commodity, & the precious creature within. After years of training with a pokemon gifted by their parents, youth are expected to responsibly handle something a tad larger, a bit stronger. Something to bond, battle, & work with. A life partner.

"Mincci mincci~" Her partner coos, alerting Honey to footsteps rapidly approaching. She rolls in her neatly tidied bed, stretching, eyes flicking across the barren, cramped room of her sleeping quarters. A toilet. A sink. A desk missing its chair, with a small stack of studying papers on top. &, of course, her bed. There was just enough room to stretch out. To some, it would be considered a cell. To Honey, it was home.

  "Alright children, time for the ceremony!" Calls a feminine voice. She leaps to her feet, startling the poor pokemon who now clings to her shirt. The teenager grabs her grey hand-knitted sweater & bolts out the door-- up & down the hall the silence is broken by the excited murmurs of children similarly situated as her. They exit their rooms. Each & every one-- with a few sad exceptions --is accompanied by a small pokemon of some sort. Perching on their shoulders, being held, or trailing along behind their owner.

  The next few minutes are a blur as they shuffle down the well lit halls. Honey slips her sweater on, squeezing Mochi, her minccino, tight to her chest. She trods along with the crowd to a spacious auditorium with a display table set in the center. The fifty or so strong crowd lines up in front of this table, peacefully, their voices quieting down as a rather wrinkly man behind the rather simplistic table clears his throat.


"As some of you may know, I am professor Sequoia. Today is a special one, indeed, provided to us by the lovely breeders that have worked so, so hard to bring you this gift." Honey bounces on her heels in excitement as the crowd listens, each teen holding their breath. The professor gestures to the table. A table covered in pokeballs, most tattered & worn looking, one for each of the gathered.
"One at a time! I know it's terribly exciting, but we must keep quiet. There is a study session in the room next to us." He gestures for the first teen to step forward & select a ball. Honey can hardly wait. Mochi, sensing this excitement, nuzzles her furry face into Honey's chest with a pleased mrrr.