Post by Kenna Barnes on Jan 14, 2014 19:11:01 GMT -6
IMG HERE
Max Size is 350 x 700
Kenna Barnes
Age: 36
Gender: Female
Orientation: Pansexual
Profession: Merchant
Occupation: Bakersmith. No, really.
Mentor: Rocket Man
Appearance:
Everyday Clothes:
Formal Garbs:
Pack:
Personality:
Likes: Warmth, activity, friendly banter, sweets, hard work, inorganic sounds
Dislikes: Coldness, idleness, intimate conversation, excessive chatter
Backstory:
[[note: using the Anvil and the Deed+ from the Grand Opening Promo on Kenna.
]]
Mentor: Rocket Man
Appearance:
She's a brick. HOUSE.
More so than the woman described in the song, actually. At six foot three and around three hundred (or more) pounds, she could only ever ironically be called "tiny." Her features and her belly are certainly round, but it's clear that she's got plenty of muscle too. The skin above that fat and muscle is naturally pinkish, though she also frequently has pinkish burns here and there--not to mention the too-white scars from her more serious burns. There's a large splash of white across her left forearm and several spots of varying sizes spattering her right shoulder and side of her face. These contrast oddly with her natural freckles--clustered most around her nose, but able to be found almost anywhere on her body.
Bright red-orange hair sits atop her head. It's much too frizzy to do much with, but loose hair is not just a problem but a legitimate safety hazard in her line of work. She likes her hair, though--so her compromise is to keep it to her shoulder (most often tied to either side in large pigtails) when off-duty and in a hairnet while working.
Her eyes are a warm brown, edged with lines from smiling often. Between these and her (rather thick) eyebrows there are more lines, though their origin is less 'worry' and more 'concentration.' Below these, her nose is small, cute, and a little up-turned--when she was younger, it could have been described as a 'button nose,' but that doesn't seem quite as fitting for a middle-aged wall of a woman.
More so than the woman described in the song, actually. At six foot three and around three hundred (or more) pounds, she could only ever ironically be called "tiny." Her features and her belly are certainly round, but it's clear that she's got plenty of muscle too. The skin above that fat and muscle is naturally pinkish, though she also frequently has pinkish burns here and there--not to mention the too-white scars from her more serious burns. There's a large splash of white across her left forearm and several spots of varying sizes spattering her right shoulder and side of her face. These contrast oddly with her natural freckles--clustered most around her nose, but able to be found almost anywhere on her body.
Bright red-orange hair sits atop her head. It's much too frizzy to do much with, but loose hair is not just a problem but a legitimate safety hazard in her line of work. She likes her hair, though--so her compromise is to keep it to her shoulder (most often tied to either side in large pigtails) when off-duty and in a hairnet while working.
Her eyes are a warm brown, edged with lines from smiling often. Between these and her (rather thick) eyebrows there are more lines, though their origin is less 'worry' and more 'concentration.' Below these, her nose is small, cute, and a little up-turned--when she was younger, it could have been described as a 'button nose,' but that doesn't seem quite as fitting for a middle-aged wall of a woman.
What Kenna wears in public consists mostly of shapeless dresses made from coarse linens, which tend to hide her muscular form--aside from her arms, which are typically bare. These dresses are usually brightly dyed reds and oranges--or at least, were once bright. She doesn't own many, and the colors fade rather faster than she likes, but what can you do about that?
Most of Kenna's clothing spending is on her work clothes, which rarely see the light of day. These gloves, aprons, helmets, etcetera are made of or covered with leather hide that was once from a Fire-type Pokémon. They are undyed and undecorated, but exceedingly well taken care of, given their cost.
Most of Kenna's clothing spending is on her work clothes, which rarely see the light of day. These gloves, aprons, helmets, etcetera are made of or covered with leather hide that was once from a Fire-type Pokémon. They are undyed and undecorated, but exceedingly well taken care of, given their cost.
Kenna has... Well, she has two outfits that were expensive (discounting her work clothes) but they're not exactly 'formal.' The first is for the most part one of her cheap everyday dresses, with the exception that the orange cloth has been embroidered with one large white sun near the bottom edge and many small abstract flowers across it in a pattern. It has been worn exactly once, and washed very carefully. Even so, it has at least three loose threads in the embroidery. If she were to need to be formal, Kenna would turn to this dress.
The other is a well-tailored and fitted traveling outfit. It includes leather (think suede) pants and jacket, a well-cared for cotton blouse, woolen socks, and leather travel boots made for comfort and utility rather than fashion. She's never worn it for more than five minutes--and to wear it now, she might need to lose a few pounds. Or gain a few? Honestly, it's been too many years to tell for sure.
While it wasn't really 'expensive,' given she made it from scraps that wouldn't make for very good armor/weapons, there is one other outfit that Kenna doesn't wear very often--a metal bikini armor set. Don't get it wrong, she totally rocks it--but where and when exactly is it socially acceptable to wear a metal bikini?
The other is a well-tailored and fitted traveling outfit. It includes leather (think suede) pants and jacket, a well-cared for cotton blouse, woolen socks, and leather travel boots made for comfort and utility rather than fashion. She's never worn it for more than five minutes--and to wear it now, she might need to lose a few pounds. Or gain a few? Honestly, it's been too many years to tell for sure.
While it wasn't really 'expensive,' given she made it from scraps that wouldn't make for very good armor/weapons, there is one other outfit that Kenna doesn't wear very often--a metal bikini armor set. Don't get it wrong, she totally rocks it--but where and when exactly is it socially acceptable to wear a metal bikini?
A sturdy leather messenger bag. It hasn't any pockets or partitions or the like, but Kenna keeps her money in a coinpurse inside the bag; otherwise, it all just sort of rattles loose--just the way she likes it.
Kenna usually makes a good first impression on people--she's jovial, energetic, and humorous. She may be a bit too forward for some people's tastes, but Kenna isn't bothered by the fact that it's impossible to please everyone. Even direct insults from strangers just seem to evaporate before her almost overbearingly cheerful mood.
That's not to say that Kenna's more interested in socializing than in work; on the contrary, while she is quite friendly to new folk, she's almost always doing something while she's talking. She may be hauling goods from one place to another, chatting while she goes; or perhaps the chatting is, in itself, the work--as when she's trying to make a sale of some sort. She detests idleness in herself and others--though she'd never show that to a customer or potential-customer.
Those close to her, however, she has no fear of upsetting. While it takes a lot to push her into a truly frightening tirade, she'll snap very easily at anyone she knows better than just as passing acquaintances; more often than not, what irritates her are the personal idiosyncrasies that most either just deal with or find charming. The more she grows to know someone, the more she finds that she just can't really stand them.
Altogether, she's happy where she is--she's doing what she loves, and making her own living off of it and helping the community prosper as well. What else to life is there? Occasionally, this state of mind is interrupted by her childhood notion that she would find ~true love~ but she's become rather cynical about the concept in general as well as her chances of finding it, should it even exist.
That's not to say that Kenna's more interested in socializing than in work; on the contrary, while she is quite friendly to new folk, she's almost always doing something while she's talking. She may be hauling goods from one place to another, chatting while she goes; or perhaps the chatting is, in itself, the work--as when she's trying to make a sale of some sort. She detests idleness in herself and others--though she'd never show that to a customer or potential-customer.
Those close to her, however, she has no fear of upsetting. While it takes a lot to push her into a truly frightening tirade, she'll snap very easily at anyone she knows better than just as passing acquaintances; more often than not, what irritates her are the personal idiosyncrasies that most either just deal with or find charming. The more she grows to know someone, the more she finds that she just can't really stand them.
Altogether, she's happy where she is--she's doing what she loves, and making her own living off of it and helping the community prosper as well. What else to life is there? Occasionally, this state of mind is interrupted by her childhood notion that she would find ~true love~ but she's become rather cynical about the concept in general as well as her chances of finding it, should it even exist.
Dislikes: Coldness, idleness, intimate conversation, excessive chatter
Backstory:
A young man and woman of little means but large hearts fell in love. The main problem for them was the never-ending war for resources. The man, a blacksmith by trade, was able to avoid the fighting by supplying what he could to the local regiment.
They had a daughter, Kenna, eventually followed by another son and daughter--and a Magby somewhere in there, to help with the forge. As the eldest, Kenna was expected to help her mother take care of her siblings, as well as to learn her father's trade. She did the latter with zeal; the former grudgingly. As she grew older she came to understand how necessary that was, with her mother running about the house and local area, bartering with the soldiers who came for armor in order to get the most for her husband's work. With a family of six (including Magmar), things were very tight for a while.
Then, one glorious day when Kenna was eleven years old, Arceus appeared, and announced the portal to the new world.
Kenna and her family pulled their long-disused pickup truck out of the shed, and thanked their lucky stars that they'd been saving it, in case there was ever a disaster--well, one worse than usual, anyhow--that they needed to evacuate from. Being in an island region as they were, the disaster drills were hardly paranoid. Granted, it was a rare thing for hurricanes to travel this far north, but the world was turning to ash everywhere they looked, and... well, the point was that they were prepared to go.
The family's anvil was the only part of the smithy (minus handheld tools) that they could bring with them, and even that took ropes, ramps, and the help of the whole family. With the anvil secured and their belongings under a tarp tied to the bed, the family was off to the portal. They barely fit, and only managed to because there was a back seat in the cab--tiny, but there. Kenna envied her sibling, the cleverly-named Maggye for her ability to travel inside a Pokéball.
When they got to the new world, it was astounding. It was as green--no, greener!--than the emerald hue their home, island region had, supposedly been once in the past. ...It was also quite inhospitable.
The Barneses were not among the first group to go through the portal, so some construction had already begun when they got there, but Port City hadn't even a twinkle of its future splendor.
Kenna found she liked the change in her fathers' orders--sure, nails and girders were hardly challenging like armor was, nor was it very exciting or interesting... but her young mind had had the weight of war lifted from her metaphorical shoulders. They were, quite literally, helping to build a new beginning for humanity.
It wasn't long before Kenna started working in her own right on the orders. Still, her mother was out and about... coordinating... something. Kenna was never clear on the details of what her mother did, but as Kenna grew into a young teenager she began to suspect it was less important than she'd previously thought; that her mother may be gossiping or passing responsibility to the nearest available person, or what-have-you. Obviously the gossip hadn't been possible on the old world, but Kenna wondered exactly how necessary it was for her to be the one watching her younger siblings.
About the only time she could rest was while she was baking. The scent of sweets in the oven soothed her siblings, even if the sugar would excite them later. At least they'd be relatively quiet while eating, and Kenna eventually, via experimenting, found the sweet spot at a lower temperature than her mother had suggested where her sweets would be just doughey enough to be very chewy, keeping them in check for longer.
Kenna always made sure to bring some of these to Maggye, who was usually working with her father in the smithy--and quite fond of sweets. Her father was never pleased by the distraction to himself or his helper, but Maggye always seemed to thank her for them.
As the years wore on, it wasn't so much that Kenna was a rebellious teenager as much as that as she grew into her mind and began to be able to think for herself, she gave her parents a critical eye and did not like what she saw.
Her mother was too flighty, self-absorbed, and lazy. She liked to be around her children when they were behaving, but would often find some reason to leave them to Kenna when one of the younger siblings started whining; and when she did stick around, Kenna wasn't too fond of how she handled them either--Kenna didn't remember her demands being given into so easily when she was their age.
Their mother's behavior made her younger siblings even more painful to deal with. They used the not-mother card when trying to wheedle out of punishment and chores quite often, and made it quite clear they preferred their mother. Not that they could be faulted for preferring the authority that let them do nearly whatever they wanted, but that didn't make it any less trying for Kenna to try to instill a decent work ethic into the little monsters.
She couldn't glorify her father much, either. He did work nearly all the time, molding nails and other ironworks to sell--so much that they hardly ever saw him. Kenna saw him most, as she would work in the smithy with him when possible, but even then they worked in an ironically cold silence. Kenna felt that he was neglecting his duty to his family--the family he chose to have. He didn't need to have three children--and honestly, it took a lot of work to do so, back in the old world! True, relationships change, and in the old world her father had seemed friendlier and happier... but then, Kenna never could decide whether that had actually been the case or if it was more a case of rose-colored glasses.
As such, Kenna could not wait to inherit the smithy and tools from her father. This is not to say she was excited--she literally couldn't wait around years on end for her mother and father to die. She told her parents that she would be leaving the house in six months' time, and that they needed to find someone else to do what she did around the house by then, because she was not changing her mind.
Now, you can hardly fault her parents for not believing she was serious--Kenna can't recall anymore exactly how old she was at the time, but it was somewhere in her late teens. Rebellious teenagers rebel, it happens, but in the end they still love their parents and wouldn't know what to do with out them, and also tend to make grandiose gestures for attention.
Not so with Kenna. She was sick and tired of these people, and she wanted out. She'd have left immediately, but her she knew her conscience would never rest if she just deserted in the middle of the night. She gave them time to replace her, she made her intentions quite clear. If they were left in the lurch when she left, that was squarely on their shoulders.
During those six moths, she found a bakery which had need of an assistant, and a room for rent for not too much money not terribly far from the bakery. She got on well with the owner, Miss Noble--an "old maid" as the old world would have once called her--though this was at least partially because they didn't speak to each other very much, aside from discussing job-related matters.
Miss Noble apparently didn't get on well with her own family either, else she didn't have any--when she died, she left the bakery to Kenna, who was in her mid-twenties by this point. Kenna mourned the loss of her friend and boss, and the fact that she knew so little about the woman or how to find relatives she should inform. She did her best, but record keeping in Mi-aro was terrible, and the woman had easily slid under the radar.
So Kenna took over the shop. She ran it, and hired assistants several times, but they left of their own accord after not many months working there--and good riddance! Teenagers these days, they were terrible. As Pokéballs were a bit of a luxury at the time, a Pokémon assistant was also out of the question. In the end, though, it didn't bother Kenna. She just made do without an assistant, running to and fro across her kitchen to do everything herself.
The bakery didn't do terribly well at first, but after Kenna finally got the hang of running a business and doing the physical labor as well, she still managed to find herself bored. She began saving up her money with a specific plan in mind, spending money on nothing but her and her business's necessities, and the tools for her plan.
Finally, after she'd amassed a fair amount, the shop right next door to the bakery was having some trouble. Kenna sweetly but professionally made an offer to buy the building; it was accepted.
With some temporarily hired help (but with her at the forefront), she knocked down the walls between the two and walled up the small alley that had separated the buildings. Over the coming months and years, she stocked and built her own smithy in the back of what used to be a leatherworking shop.
The inside of the shop was, thus, a very curious sight. The signs above either of the doors read "The Pastrysmith," though that was surely just creative license, right? Wrong! There were pastries and loaves of bread and all sorts of baked goods on the one side of the store. Across a newly-brick-paved line, on the other side of the store, was a full suit of armor on display, as well as several smaller iron goods for sale like nails and household tools.
A closer look would show that, on the bakery side, there was sometimes a cake that was shaped like a breastplate. In fact... IN FACT... was that--no, she wouldn't. Would she?
And on the blacksmith's side, there was a bell on the customer's side of the counter to summon the lady of the shop if she weren't there, and next to it, was a charming if somewhat lumpy and misshapen, but quite recognizable, iron cupcake. In wintertime, the steel/iron suit of armor would be replaced with one made from fruitcake. "It's even edible, in case of emergency! ...You know, really, REALLY dire emergencies." It was more of a joke than an actual product. She never mentioned so, but Kenna hadn't ever had to bake a second set--the fruitcake never seemed to mold, and it certainly never sold...
Or at least, this had been the case for a bit less than ten years.
This last week, however, Kenna came home from buying raw grains to find a gigantic hole in the side of her store, and several Anorith scuttling in and out of it. Inside, the place was ransacked, and--her fruitcake armor was gone! Not entirely, there were still bits of it on the floor, but honestly? As much as the damages to her store were a lot worse, it was just another hurdle; Kenna had become really attached to that fruitcake armor.
Either way, she shooed the Anorith out as well as she could (not very) and quickly walled up the hole, to be better repaired at a later date, and thought on what her next course of action would be.
She'd need to close both sides of the shop while she repaired. By the time she was through, she was pretty sure her her shop permit would have expired. Kenna had been intending to renew it anyhow, but with her shops closed, she couldn't renew it, she'd have to do a new one from scratch... While she was at it, though, she might as well apply for a Pokémon. A way to economically produce Pokéballs had been discovered a little while ago, and not long after public Pokémon applications for people entering the workforce, or at least that's how it was advertised. Nothing that she knew specifically said that they weren't available to established businesspeople... but even if they were, she figured she could argue her case given this--this--she learned in a matter of days that her shops were likely destroyed by the Armaldo leading the invading Anorith swarm. She supposed she had it coming, given the day-old (..."day"-old) bread that wasn't sellable any longer that she just threw out the back door into the alley, to be eaten by local stray and feral Pokémon. At least it saved the other shops near hers from being raided similarly, at least?
Whatever the case, she needed to recoup her losses. At least the anvil and smithing gear in the back was relatively unharmed, which was quite a stroke of luck given Armaldos' power--even in the old world they were quite a force, who knew what they could do here. Even so, what damage had been done would need a fair amount to repair, and would be fairly expensive. Much more damage had been done to her bakery, but each individual thing should still be easier to fix.. even if it did add up to quite a bit.
And Kenna needed some way to make a living in the meantime. The Pokémon was looking like a better and better option.
They had a daughter, Kenna, eventually followed by another son and daughter--and a Magby somewhere in there, to help with the forge. As the eldest, Kenna was expected to help her mother take care of her siblings, as well as to learn her father's trade. She did the latter with zeal; the former grudgingly. As she grew older she came to understand how necessary that was, with her mother running about the house and local area, bartering with the soldiers who came for armor in order to get the most for her husband's work. With a family of six (including Magmar), things were very tight for a while.
Then, one glorious day when Kenna was eleven years old, Arceus appeared, and announced the portal to the new world.
Kenna and her family pulled their long-disused pickup truck out of the shed, and thanked their lucky stars that they'd been saving it, in case there was ever a disaster--well, one worse than usual, anyhow--that they needed to evacuate from. Being in an island region as they were, the disaster drills were hardly paranoid. Granted, it was a rare thing for hurricanes to travel this far north, but the world was turning to ash everywhere they looked, and... well, the point was that they were prepared to go.
The family's anvil was the only part of the smithy (minus handheld tools) that they could bring with them, and even that took ropes, ramps, and the help of the whole family. With the anvil secured and their belongings under a tarp tied to the bed, the family was off to the portal. They barely fit, and only managed to because there was a back seat in the cab--tiny, but there. Kenna envied her sibling, the cleverly-named Maggye for her ability to travel inside a Pokéball.
When they got to the new world, it was astounding. It was as green--no, greener!--than the emerald hue their home, island region had, supposedly been once in the past. ...It was also quite inhospitable.
The Barneses were not among the first group to go through the portal, so some construction had already begun when they got there, but Port City hadn't even a twinkle of its future splendor.
Kenna found she liked the change in her fathers' orders--sure, nails and girders were hardly challenging like armor was, nor was it very exciting or interesting... but her young mind had had the weight of war lifted from her metaphorical shoulders. They were, quite literally, helping to build a new beginning for humanity.
It wasn't long before Kenna started working in her own right on the orders. Still, her mother was out and about... coordinating... something. Kenna was never clear on the details of what her mother did, but as Kenna grew into a young teenager she began to suspect it was less important than she'd previously thought; that her mother may be gossiping or passing responsibility to the nearest available person, or what-have-you. Obviously the gossip hadn't been possible on the old world, but Kenna wondered exactly how necessary it was for her to be the one watching her younger siblings.
About the only time she could rest was while she was baking. The scent of sweets in the oven soothed her siblings, even if the sugar would excite them later. At least they'd be relatively quiet while eating, and Kenna eventually, via experimenting, found the sweet spot at a lower temperature than her mother had suggested where her sweets would be just doughey enough to be very chewy, keeping them in check for longer.
Kenna always made sure to bring some of these to Maggye, who was usually working with her father in the smithy--and quite fond of sweets. Her father was never pleased by the distraction to himself or his helper, but Maggye always seemed to thank her for them.
As the years wore on, it wasn't so much that Kenna was a rebellious teenager as much as that as she grew into her mind and began to be able to think for herself, she gave her parents a critical eye and did not like what she saw.
Her mother was too flighty, self-absorbed, and lazy. She liked to be around her children when they were behaving, but would often find some reason to leave them to Kenna when one of the younger siblings started whining; and when she did stick around, Kenna wasn't too fond of how she handled them either--Kenna didn't remember her demands being given into so easily when she was their age.
Their mother's behavior made her younger siblings even more painful to deal with. They used the not-mother card when trying to wheedle out of punishment and chores quite often, and made it quite clear they preferred their mother. Not that they could be faulted for preferring the authority that let them do nearly whatever they wanted, but that didn't make it any less trying for Kenna to try to instill a decent work ethic into the little monsters.
She couldn't glorify her father much, either. He did work nearly all the time, molding nails and other ironworks to sell--so much that they hardly ever saw him. Kenna saw him most, as she would work in the smithy with him when possible, but even then they worked in an ironically cold silence. Kenna felt that he was neglecting his duty to his family--the family he chose to have. He didn't need to have three children--and honestly, it took a lot of work to do so, back in the old world! True, relationships change, and in the old world her father had seemed friendlier and happier... but then, Kenna never could decide whether that had actually been the case or if it was more a case of rose-colored glasses.
As such, Kenna could not wait to inherit the smithy and tools from her father. This is not to say she was excited--she literally couldn't wait around years on end for her mother and father to die. She told her parents that she would be leaving the house in six months' time, and that they needed to find someone else to do what she did around the house by then, because she was not changing her mind.
Now, you can hardly fault her parents for not believing she was serious--Kenna can't recall anymore exactly how old she was at the time, but it was somewhere in her late teens. Rebellious teenagers rebel, it happens, but in the end they still love their parents and wouldn't know what to do with out them, and also tend to make grandiose gestures for attention.
Not so with Kenna. She was sick and tired of these people, and she wanted out. She'd have left immediately, but her she knew her conscience would never rest if she just deserted in the middle of the night. She gave them time to replace her, she made her intentions quite clear. If they were left in the lurch when she left, that was squarely on their shoulders.
During those six moths, she found a bakery which had need of an assistant, and a room for rent for not too much money not terribly far from the bakery. She got on well with the owner, Miss Noble--an "old maid" as the old world would have once called her--though this was at least partially because they didn't speak to each other very much, aside from discussing job-related matters.
Miss Noble apparently didn't get on well with her own family either, else she didn't have any--when she died, she left the bakery to Kenna, who was in her mid-twenties by this point. Kenna mourned the loss of her friend and boss, and the fact that she knew so little about the woman or how to find relatives she should inform. She did her best, but record keeping in Mi-aro was terrible, and the woman had easily slid under the radar.
So Kenna took over the shop. She ran it, and hired assistants several times, but they left of their own accord after not many months working there--and good riddance! Teenagers these days, they were terrible. As Pokéballs were a bit of a luxury at the time, a Pokémon assistant was also out of the question. In the end, though, it didn't bother Kenna. She just made do without an assistant, running to and fro across her kitchen to do everything herself.
The bakery didn't do terribly well at first, but after Kenna finally got the hang of running a business and doing the physical labor as well, she still managed to find herself bored. She began saving up her money with a specific plan in mind, spending money on nothing but her and her business's necessities, and the tools for her plan.
Finally, after she'd amassed a fair amount, the shop right next door to the bakery was having some trouble. Kenna sweetly but professionally made an offer to buy the building; it was accepted.
With some temporarily hired help (but with her at the forefront), she knocked down the walls between the two and walled up the small alley that had separated the buildings. Over the coming months and years, she stocked and built her own smithy in the back of what used to be a leatherworking shop.
The inside of the shop was, thus, a very curious sight. The signs above either of the doors read "The Pastrysmith," though that was surely just creative license, right? Wrong! There were pastries and loaves of bread and all sorts of baked goods on the one side of the store. Across a newly-brick-paved line, on the other side of the store, was a full suit of armor on display, as well as several smaller iron goods for sale like nails and household tools.
A closer look would show that, on the bakery side, there was sometimes a cake that was shaped like a breastplate. In fact... IN FACT... was that--no, she wouldn't. Would she?
And on the blacksmith's side, there was a bell on the customer's side of the counter to summon the lady of the shop if she weren't there, and next to it, was a charming if somewhat lumpy and misshapen, but quite recognizable, iron cupcake. In wintertime, the steel/iron suit of armor would be replaced with one made from fruitcake. "It's even edible, in case of emergency! ...You know, really, REALLY dire emergencies." It was more of a joke than an actual product. She never mentioned so, but Kenna hadn't ever had to bake a second set--the fruitcake never seemed to mold, and it certainly never sold...
Or at least, this had been the case for a bit less than ten years.
This last week, however, Kenna came home from buying raw grains to find a gigantic hole in the side of her store, and several Anorith scuttling in and out of it. Inside, the place was ransacked, and--her fruitcake armor was gone! Not entirely, there were still bits of it on the floor, but honestly? As much as the damages to her store were a lot worse, it was just another hurdle; Kenna had become really attached to that fruitcake armor.
Either way, she shooed the Anorith out as well as she could (not very) and quickly walled up the hole, to be better repaired at a later date, and thought on what her next course of action would be.
She'd need to close both sides of the shop while she repaired. By the time she was through, she was pretty sure her her shop permit would have expired. Kenna had been intending to renew it anyhow, but with her shops closed, she couldn't renew it, she'd have to do a new one from scratch... While she was at it, though, she might as well apply for a Pokémon. A way to economically produce Pokéballs had been discovered a little while ago, and not long after public Pokémon applications for people entering the workforce, or at least that's how it was advertised. Nothing that she knew specifically said that they weren't available to established businesspeople... but even if they were, she figured she could argue her case given this--this--she learned in a matter of days that her shops were likely destroyed by the Armaldo leading the invading Anorith swarm. She supposed she had it coming, given the day-old (..."day"-old) bread that wasn't sellable any longer that she just threw out the back door into the alley, to be eaten by local stray and feral Pokémon. At least it saved the other shops near hers from being raided similarly, at least?
Whatever the case, she needed to recoup her losses. At least the anvil and smithing gear in the back was relatively unharmed, which was quite a stroke of luck given Armaldos' power--even in the old world they were quite a force, who knew what they could do here. Even so, what damage had been done would need a fair amount to repair, and would be fairly expensive. Much more damage had been done to her bakery, but each individual thing should still be easier to fix.. even if it did add up to quite a bit.
And Kenna needed some way to make a living in the meantime. The Pokémon was looking like a better and better option.
[[note: using the Anvil and the Deed+ from the Grand Opening Promo on Kenna.
]]