PMD: Stargazer Chronicles

Overlord- Shiny Club

Character: Aaron Valor

Species: Zoroark (Shiny)

Age: 16

Nickname: Lord Valor

Year of character creation: 2013

Story: A stylish yet lonely young prince of Valor, next in line for the throne. He's well-versed in internet culture. The Valorian royal blessing removes any social anxiety, which sometimes makes it harder for him to recognize some conversational tones, and easier for him to express himself. According to current polls he's the most favorited character. Go Aaron...

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Abigail kicked her feet off the edge of her bed. She stared at her ceiling with her phone pressed against her ear.

"So," Helen's voice buzzed in her ear, "did they ever calm down with the gifts?"

"Uhhhh..."

Abigail sat up.

She had spaced everything out into three piles; Aaron's by her bed, Gawain's by her door, and Zen's against the wall behind the lounge area. All in all, she probably had more jewelry than a jewelry store, more flowers than a greenhouse, and a bigger miscellaneous section than a dollar store on a Wednesday.

She flopped back down. "A little less."

"Well, how've you been doing with them?"

"Well, ever since they evolved, they're really... aggressive."

"That's what happens. They feel bigger. Makes them a lot more sure of themselves. That's normal."

"Yah, but... I dunno. I'm trying not to be shallow."

"Abigail, I know you. You're not shallow. Just relax."

"Thanks...You have to sleep now, right?"

"Yup."

"Have a good night."

"You too. Buh bye."

"Bye."

Abigail let her arm fall. She'd go to sleep, too, if she were tired. Instead, an idea bounced around in her brain.

It just came to her out of the abyss, or maybe because her outfits were all samey. She needed to branch out in a lot of aspects: combat styles, slang, different coffees (she never did switch off a caramel macchiato), but most of all, clothes.

She had five of the same cape, and a few skirts and the like. That was it. She needed more, and preferably, stuff she wouldn't be made fun of for.

She trusted Aaron when it came to that. Everyone on the internet called him the cool, stylish one. She texted him to bring a bunch of his clothes to her room, and he came, without any context.

She made herself decent and sat on the front edge of her bed for a while. When Zoroark Aaron knocked on her door, he carried a black duffel bag over his shoulder. His yellow eyes shone as he snapped his claws and pointed down at her.

"Whatever it is, I'm in," he said. "So, what is it?"

"I wanna look cool."

"But you already look cool."

"No, like, cool," she said. "I mean, like... 'Swag'. Or 'cash-money'."

"Ah." His head bobbed up and down. "Okay."

"So, show me your stuff."

"What's my stuff got anything to do with it?"

Her tail swirled. "Cause you're the cool one."