Welcome to Gaia! ::

Mission: Scouting Report
Mission Maker: Blizzard120


The city was quiet. The air was chilly and a gentle breeze would n** at one’s skin while blowing a few dead leaves about. According to every clock in Ecruteak City, it was 7:00pm, the time of curfew. Once the blue skies of the day became swallowed by the orange waves of the setting sun and the purple blocks of the night sky, everyone was indoors anyway. The Rockets were a threat that left mother’s fearing for the children and men fearing the lives of their families in general. Trainers however, had an additional fear for their Pokemon, especially those with exceptionally unique partners. In a nutshell, the coming of night not only brought the moon, but fear.

Azzen had been in Ecruteak since noon yesterday. He had stayed low by wearing the attire that many Parasol trainers prided themselves with. Though Az had the strong feeling that his skirt made him look a tad fat, he always managed to stay out of the way and keep his parasol over his face. He had only been confronted twice so far, which did in fact please him. Apparently his costumes were working better than ever. Normally he would average far more attention in terms of suspicion. As a result, Az was allowed to easily move between the city and his destination (the Rocket Base).

Every twelve hours, one Rocket Grunt would be replaced by another to guard the front entrance of the ravaged base. The midnight to noon guard was female with greasy blond hair and a perpetual scowl while the noon to midnight guard was obviously her boyfriend or partner. He looked just like every other male grunt, but he behaved in a matter so timid that even Az’s Ralts would appear to be the bigger man by comparison! Upon switching shifts, the downtrodden male grunt would always bring tea and some snack to the blond female and give her a quick embrace before she would push him away and storm off inside. Az had commented earlier that the female either wore the pants all of the time, or perhaps it was just fatigue. Whether or not she was a perpetual crab or not wasn’t important, but the sad posture of the male grunt after the angry dance was. He would always bend at the waste and sulk about for an hour before he would eventually slump on the base’s main wall and resume guard duty. Here was the weakness.

By now, Az had moved his way from the Gym to the backside of the Pokemon Center and called out his team of three discretely. Event though curfew wasn’t officially in effect for another twenty minutes, the true citizens of Ecruteak City were already inside and probably pasted to their windows in search of Rockets returning. Hiding in the city’s “blind spot” was the only option in calling forth his team and laying down the game plan.

Houndour, Ralts, and Piplip formed a tight huddle around Parasol Snagem Az and awaited instruction. Az reached into his purse and pulled out three rainbow colored treats and held his lacy glove out to the trio. “Each of you need take one of these. They taste great, and they’ll give each of you the tools needed for tonight. Just open wi-“ Az cut himself off as the team pried to Rainbow Pokeblocks from his hand and devoured them.
“Wonderful.” Houndour said in a naturally gruff voice. Surprisingly, the Dark Pokemon wasn’t surprised at speaking in a human tongue… for about five seconds. “What did I just say?” Houndour yelled shaking. “Is this what you meant by tools?” He continued. Houndour wasn’t necessarily angry, but apparently his voice naturally sounded as such.

“Those are called Rainbow Pokeblocks.” Az said matter-of-factly. “Now I can understand you three, but that isn’t the point. Before you two try out English for the first time, I want you all to say one phrase for me, alright?” Az looked to his left, and then to his right. It was safe. “I want you to say ‘What are you up to, big boy?’ as feminine as you possibly can.”

The Pokemon remained silent. They looked dazed as if one hell of a Confuse Ray had just caused their brains to implode. They slowly looked to one another and Houndour readied himself to speak.

“What are you up to, big boy?” Houdour said in a voice that fell somewhere at the level of a woman who had been an avid smoker for over thirty years. The Pokemon grinned at his horrid display and wagged his tail. “Looks like I’m out.” He stated. Az’s nod confirmed this and the group’s attention turned to Ralts.

“W-w-what are you up to, b-b… I can’t say it!” Ralts said with a sigh. His voice was high pitched and childlike, but the Feeling Pokemon was just too timid for a performance like this. “I’m sorry Az, I just can’t do this. What if he comes over to me?” Ralts said in a defeated voice. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine Ralts.” Az said with a smile. “At least you tried. And, you can always say you sound more feminine than Houndour if the need arises.” The Snagem said with a laugh that was warm enough to coax a few out of his team. “Piplup, it’s riding on you.”

“I don’t think I can do it either.” Piplup said in a high voice. With a little manipulation, it could have easily passed for a girl. Az stared dumfounded and made a gesture so that Piplup would continue. “What are you up to, big boy?” Piplup said perfectly.

“Piplup, you are a star! Good job!” Az said mussing the little Pokemon’s feathers. “So here is our plan, and everyone is going to have to act their part no matter how much it bothers you. Remember, I’m the man in a dress, you aren’t.” Everyone nodded and scooted in closer. A few whispers and hand movements went about and a murmur escaped Piplup. Az countered it, and the penguin was nodding in no time. If someone would have walked over, none of them would have noticed in the slightest. The sheer unity of the trainer and Pokemon was just too absorbing.

Soon, once everything was worked out, the plan went into effect.


A woman with a parasol covering her face gave a dainty wave to the grunt on guard duty. He snapped too, and gave a wild and clumsy wave of his own. The grunt wasn’t thrilled though. Normally he would have been suspicious of such a woman so late in the evening, but with nine hours of lazy guarding, he didn’t have strength to care. She was just passing by it seemed.

“What are you up to, big boy?” The parasol woman said with a faint giggle. “See you later.” With that, the woman walked off (being careful to keep the parasol over “her” face). The guard was a bit tongue tied, but his fatigue kept him in check from swooning. He was scum though, and this type of female interaction thrilled him slightly.

As she disappeared from view, a Pokeball rolled out from a hole in her purse and opened to reveal a Ralts which hastily looked about. It looked to guard and tilted its head in confusion.

“I think you dropped something!” The grunt called out. “Hey, come back here! You left your Ralts!” He yelled again. Hearing no response, he ventured away from his post and went into some brush that the apple of his eye had just walked through. The Ralts attached itself to his leg and squeezed it for comfort. The grunt noticed it and prepared to toot his horn. “You know little buddy, if Ms. Hotcakes doesn’t return, you’re mine, got me?”

“No. I don’t get you.” Ralts replied. The grunt was in shock, and before he could yell for assistance (or get over the fact a Ralts was talking to him), purple waves shot out from the Ralt’s horns. Within seconds, Hypnosis took effect and the guard was down on the ground in a crumpled ball. Within a minute Az emerged from the brush with Houndour and flashed a quick nod to Ralts for a job well done. Piplup had been returned, and Houndour (the Pokemon that fit the bill of a Rocket Pokemon the best) was waiting by his side. Ralts was returned and the tedious process of switching costumes had started.

Az kept his head down and looked directly at Houndour who was by his side. With a cheap alibi formed, the two were ready for anything. They walked through several corridors that were being repaired by some grunts and their Pokemon. They didn’t say anything to Azzen, but their presence did. The increased concentration of Grunts must have meant that they were drawing nearer to the nerve center of the damaged HQ.

As the two went onward, the walls seemed to be newer and in better shape. Only a few grunts were at work on them. Obviously the repairs were radiating from some important central source. If there was a place to snoop, it would be in the core. Luckily, the halls stopped branching off and they seemed to be focusing on one location. Az increased his speed, but a firm slap to his face brought him to a screeching halt.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” The blond grunt roared. Her voice was sharp and her hands were clenched into tiny fists. “You’re supposed to be out there for another three hours! I swear, you’re going to make me work another three hours! And by the way idiot, did you even pick up my new contact number?”
Azzen was speechless. The slap was a shocker, but the constant drone of her voice was just ridiculous. To make matters worse, he had no idea when it came to her contact number. He had to play it smart. “I guess I didn’t pick it up.” Az said rubbing his cheek. “And I want to show the bosses some decent Pokemon I stole from a woman who was spying on us.”

Blond Grunt slammed a piece of paper into Az’s hand and he quickly put it into his pocket. She bent down and snarled at Houndour who returned the favor. “That mangy Houndour better not be it. I don’t want everyone around here to associate me with a loser thief like you!”

“Don’t worry, I have two more. One of them is an oddly colored Rhyperior. Just show me where the bosses are and prepare to watch their jaws drop.” Az said smugly. “And if I get promoted, you can look for one yourself.” He added. Houndour still looked angry though. He was about a second away from mauling her face off.

Blond delivered another slap. “They would never let an idiot like you move up! Hand over the Rhyperior to me; I deserve it more than you do. Maybe if you do it with a smile on I might just give you a kiss.” She let out a little grin of arrogance, but it quickly morphed into a gaping mouth as she was slammed up against the wall behind her.

“I want you to listen well to me!” Az hissed. “You’re going to keep your witch hands to yourself and point me in the direction of our wonderful overlords, do you understand me?” She gave no response and just looked at him mutely. Az gave her a shake and gritted his teeth in rage. “Do you understand me? Speak up or I’ll do far worse to you than you have done to me!” With a sniffle, she pointed up the hall to an iron door. Azzen released her and she fell to a clump on the floor.

“T-t-they’re in a meeting in the back though. You might h-h-h-have to wait a bit.” She said between gasps. Blond Grunt was off of her pedestal for now, and she wouldn’t be a threat for the time being. Shock had a way of doing that to people.

Az turned from her and began to walk to the iron door with his fists at his sides. The blond spoke up and said something to the effect of “Who are you?” but he gave no straight answer. “You need to turn your life around, ma’am. I might contact you once you find that stick and remove it from its hiding place. Forgive the vulgarity, ma’am, but you deserve every word.”

The iron door led to a room that was crudely sectioned off. There was a huddle of Admin Rockets spitting about something. Az was yet to be noticed, so he scooted in closer, but kept his back straight as if he was awaiting to be acknowledged by his superiors. The noise from outside drowned out his the tiny ones Azzen made as he had entered, and the Admins seemed used to it.

“Fortifications to this base are underway. They’ll be sorry that they crossed paths with us and wrecked our base.” Admin one said smugly. “And the transportation of the new Substance F has been made without much trouble.”

“Speaking of Substance F, our Abra Experiment is still going strong as well. Some Snagem resistance was detected, but they retreated for the most part.” Admin two said without much in terms of emotion. “But we need to think bigger. That freak can’t take too many assaults like that.”

Admin three crossed his arms and laughed. “No need to worry. Other bases are reporting that Substance F is already being used on… You! What do you want? Aren’t you supposed to be on guard duty?” He said in an agitated tone.

Az knew he wouldn’t get anymore information if he hung around, so he decided to end things and make his way out. “No reason. I just wanted to say that there was some commotion in the city. It was something about a mob or an uprising to keep us away. I think I should go and investigate.”

“Kadabra, use Disable on everything.” Admin three said with a smirk. Suddenly, a purple Kadabra rose from the floor and performed some super version of disable on Houndour. Within the second it took to create a flash, Houndour was unable to use everything!

“What is this?” Az muttered.

“Cameras are so much better than guards, don’t you think?” Admin two smirked. “We’ve seen your little dance, intruder. You disposed of that idiot outside, and then you waltzed in here with your little puppy and tried to sneak in here to steal Substance F! Once we make an example of you, be sure to crawl back to your little cave and tell Archie that we don’t like to share.”

Suddenly, a thick blanket of smoke filled the room followed by a female voice commanding a Weezing to use Explosion. The following seconds were a mad rush filled with blurs and yells that seemed to come from everywhere. A hand latched onto Azzen’s arm and pulled him out of the room. Blond Grunt looked to him and gave him a push down the hall. Az’s ears were ringing, but he could make out her saying something like “Get out of here!”

Grunts began to scramble to the room with the iron door and released their various Pokemon. Az did his best impression of a wounded soldier and bumbled his way through the line of Rockets. “They’re using bombs!” Az yelled. “Be careful!” His voice changed to a moan, but once he and Houndour made it past the front lines, they broke into an all out sprint for the exit. Chaos was unfolding, and it was an excellent cover. However, Az felt the strong urge to go back inside and help Blond Grunt… but it was probably too late. Hopefully the Admins couldn’t make her out in the chaos, and Archie being on their minds only raised more hope for her.
With the chaos behind him and the information within him, Azzen recalled Houndour and sent out Ralts who hastily used teleport on command. It was back to HQ…



Objectives completed:

• Entered Base
• Received information regarding Substance F, the freak Pokemon weapons, and a man named Archie’s intentions.
• Made a new inside contact

Mission: The Innocence Project

Objectives: Stay hidden from guards, find Brown, rescue him, and take him home.

“Come one! Come all! Behold the magic properties of Omega Water! Behold as it restores, revitalizes, and revives! Behold as it makes your Pokemon stronger than ever before!” A man yelled to a crowd that had just formed around his tiny street corner shop. There was a table filled with clear water bottles labeled “Omega Water” in generic red lettering, and a large tent marked “Storeroom” looming behind it. Everything was covered in ugly neon colors to attract attention. It was at the rear of a Pokemon Center, and the makeshift shop had the wonderful backdrop of a rushing river, known as the Cian River.

The man who was bellowing wore a purple pinstripe suit with a ridiculous top hat on his head. Over the black hat was a big red ‘O’ (presumably for Omega) which was covered in glitter. He wore a manacle and sported a large, bush beard that presumably showed his age and wisdom. However, his eyes looked surprisingly youthful, as did his posture. The seller was calling himself “Mr. O” and he seemed to enjoy speaking in the third person whenever addressed.

“Mr. O declares a sale for the first five customers! Mr. O would never steer you wrong! I live only to make your training experience, and heck, your life easier! Instead of 1,000 Pokedollars for one of these fine bottles of Omega Water, Mr. O is giving away two bottles for 900 Pokedollars!” The loudmouth bellowed. He suddenly whipped out a formal cane and leaned on it stylishly as the crowd began to grow. The gaggle looked confused, and a few just didn’t trust him.

A Ralts suddenly waddled over to the group and several younger members of the audience jumped backward in surprise. The Pokemon looked from left to right and waved to the crowd. Suddenly, a Snorunt ran out from behind a tree and shot Power Snow at the Ralts with a maniacal laugh. Ralts countered with a weak Confusion, but another blast “KO’d” the tiny Pokemon and the Snorunt began to dance a snooty victory jig. The crowd was in awe, but before they could react further, Mr. O began to pour some of his water into the fallen Ralts’ mouth. Suddenly, the Ralts stood back up and began to flex as if to show it was stronger than before. The Snorunt looked shocked, but before it could fire another attack, it was blown away with a powerful Psychic.

The crowd let out a collective gasp and the water vendor grinned ear to ear. The Ralts took this time to sneak off into the tent, but no one noticed. They were all way too busy with high hopes of juicing up their Pokemon and eliminating everything in their way from now on. It was almost sickening to see so many Trainers throwing money at the suited man and just grabbing bottles of water. Their yells grew and grew as more joined in the mob. There were more Pokedollars floating through the air than there were stars in the night sky… or so it seemed. Mr. O took this all in stride and just focused on shoving crate after crate of Omega Water onto his table. He had given up taking money by hand and pointed to an empty crate which was soon filling with bills. It wasn’t too surprising that the “old” man had a wide grin on his face the entire time. He was definitely giving Darts’ smile a run for the money… and he was a Gengar hybrid!
Once an hour passed, the Trainers had drained his supply and left out to the fields to test out the seemingly magical properties of the Omega Water that they all had “experienced” before their very eyes. Mr. O was packing up for the night anyway. He had not planned to stay over an hour anyway. To be honest, he thought his plan would have worked out by… but no one had appeared with their teeth clenched and their hands in fists. Mr. O almost felt bad that no one caught on… but just as he flipped the table over on its side, a figure was hastily approaching him. It was the figure of a female and she was walking in quite a huff and seemingly had a knocked out Starly in her arms.

“Hey, jerk!” The female trainer roared. She had a pixie blond haircut, but was otherwise like every other teenage Trainer these days. “I gave some of your “Omega” Water to my Pokemon, and I think you made it worse! You con artist, you staged that thing with the Ralts, didn’t you? I should have known Snorunt aren’t from around here, and they sure as hell aren’t that violent!”

Mr. O seemed to ignore her, and he began to walk off towards the ugly neon tent behind him with all of his ill-gotten loot sloppily piled up in the previously empty crate. She threw her Pokemon down and stomped after him. He sped up and slipped into the tent and seemed to tie the door-flaps together to prevent the teen from entering. She tried to pull them apart once… but with animalistic rage she ripped a hole in the fabric and roared at the sight she saw. The “mighty” Ralts was pumping a Slowpoke’s tail like an old fashioned well-pump causing the pink Pokemon to spew water into a bottle the “evil” Snorunt was holding in place.

As pixie-cut readied a fist, the Pokemon let out a collective yell and ran off. Mr. O pretended to flee, but “tripped” over several crates of dough and “sprained” his ankle severely. “Please miss! Have mercy! I will pay you 25% of my profits if you just promise to go home and forget what you’ve seen!” He stammered. “Hell! I can give you half if you want it! I need this money dearly!”

To sum up an onslaught of begging, the enraged patron was not pleased with the fraud’s offer at all. She “persuaded” him (with several slaps to the face) to stay put while the police arrived to haul him off to the pokey. Unbeknownst to her pretty little head, this is exactly what the “fraud” wanted. You see, he lacked a large number of stealthy Pokemon, but he was quite enriched when it came to making up cover. This would be the perfect way to get to Brown from the “outside” without risk of playing too dirty. Azzen was just glad that the Trainer had the brains to figure him out. Having all of that stolen money made him feel dirty.

As he was shoved into a squad car by an officer, Mr. O took advantage of his Right to Remain Silent. Some comments from the law enforcer were reassuring… in a jerk sense.



“So a little girl beat you up? Heh, I think keeping you locked up for too long would be overkill. According to her, she almost knocked your teeth out. I applaud you for not hitting a girl, but…” The officer let out a loud laugh and slapped his knee as he pulled into the station. “Come on Mr. O, we’re going to lock you up for the night before we take your particulars, we’re a bit understaffed and…” The officer howled again as he pulled the cuffed Azzen out of the car. “Well shoot; you’re only a threat to idiots! If you can’t escape from some punk teen, then you sure as hell can’t break outta here old timer!”

If Brown hadn’t been the prime objective, Az would have taken out this guard on his own, but the Mission was far too delicate to screw up. Sure, his Pokemon would find him with Houndour’s Odor Sleuth, however that did take time. Plus, finding brown could end up being a task of its own. Though the station looked to be of a good size, he was sure not all of it was full of cells and he hoped that not all of them were filled… especially his.

Roughly an hour had passed since Az had been shoved into his tiny cell. There appeared to be only one block on this floor of cells, but as luck would have it, Brown was nowhere in sight. Heck, no one was in sight except the jailer who was coming by to verify some details and grab Azzen’s information earlier than expected. Beside him was a scruffy looking Houndour who was obviously fed whenever their officers didn’t have their heads in their respective asses.

“Alright buddy, you got a license on you?” The officer said unlocking his cell door to lead him elsewhere. His destination was probably to some questioning room, or at the very least to a computer room where they could get a positive ID on him.

“Let me see.” Mr. O said weakly. “My old noodle doesn’t work as well as she used to on an empty stomach.” Much to his dismay, the jerk of a guard wasn’t of the stupid variety. Before Az could move into the next stage of his Mr. O performance, his phony bears was ripped from his chin with a disgusting noise.

“Do you think we’re stupid? I’ve seen so many fake beards that I can practically smell them! Come on buster, your dumb game ends here. I’ve got the eyes of a Staravia, nothing gets past me! Now move it!” The officer said giving Az a hard slam on the back of his head. It was hard enough to almost knock him off balance, and on his partial journey to the ground, he saw that the cop’s name was Rodgers, or so his tag said.

Az was led down the relatively empty block and surmised that this was probably just a large holding area, not a true block. Besides, the cells were far too clean to be “real” jail cells. Up here, everyone could see them and easily spy something uninhabitable. The thought of going to the “real” cells made the Snagem shudder as he imagined a crap cased toilet bowl and a puke plastered sink which was “on the docket” to be cleaned in sometime in the future that would never come. Perhaps the date was February 31st?


The “questioning” room was nothing like an interrogation room, but Rodgers seemed to like to think he was one of the big important officers from television. He led Az in slowly and shoved him into a rotating chair (which wasn’t really that bad) and offered him a smoke. Az looked at him in a confused way and denied the horrible stick. Officer Rodgers looked to the large tinted window on his left to make sure no one was peering in (like they could anyway) for dramatic effect as he pushed the perpetrator’s chair back to intimidate him. However, since this was no real interrogation, and since the chair was of the “spinny” variety, all Rodgers accomplished was sending Azzen on a slight rotation.

“Alright scumbag, give me your name and don’t try any funny business. I know for a fact that you’re not a Mr. O or anything like that! I don’t try and lie to me dirtbag, I have ears like a Loudred, I can pick up on whether or not you’re trying to make something up!” Officer Rodgers said with a pompous growl. He plopped himself behind a PC and began to take information.

A small pelting of Hail thumped on the tinted window and Az looked out to find his Snorunt firing off random spurts at windows and doors in an attempt to make contact with their Trainer. Houndour had his nose planted on the ground and looked at Azzen’s window, but remained still. Odor Sleuth was a remarkable thing. From the left, Ralts and Slowpoke arrived. Their presence began to anger the scruffy station Houndour who began to bark at the window.

“Aw shut up!” Rodger said giving the Houndour a kick. “If you keep this up, I’ll send you outside for the night and let the Nincada rip you to shreds just like Billy the Houndoom. And lemme tell ya’, he was twice the Pokemon you’ll ever b-“The hate rant of the officer was cut off by Azzen’s sneezing. Pellets of snot dribbled onto the Houndour who began to howl and moan once again. As promised, the hound was “escorted” outside by the officer’s swift kick in the tail.

For the next seven minutes, Azzen provided his (fake) finger prints, (falsely) answered some questions, and took the liberty of explaining his big Omega Water plan in great detail. Outside some Pokemon were getting into a scrap, but Rodgers didn’t give it any mind. He had commented that he hoped the Houndour was getting its just desserts. The guy was a total dink and deserved to “get his” as soon as possible.

“I hope that damn annoyance is getting torn up by those bugs.” Rodgers said again. “We’re not allowed to use our own Pokemon locally, so the station provides us with these rejects and they expect us to care for them!” He moaned. “And don’t you dare try and turn me in for “abuse” or whatever; you’re in deep waters as we speak.”





“You know, I find it so great that you are gracious enough to share your wisdom with a criminal such as myself, but could you please wrap this up? I’m starving.” Azzen rubbed his stomach and it growled on cue. “I want to take a nap too. You’re probably as productive as that “reject” you sent out.” Before he had the chance to continue, Rodgers picked him up and began to forcibly lead him downstairs to the “real” cells to wait for dinner.

“You better watch yourself tough stuff, if you keep referring to me as a mangy Houndour, I’ll send it in to bite your eyes out, get me?” Officer R. hissed as he threw Azzen into his cell and slammed it in his face. “We’ll call it an accident, you get me?” With that said, the cocky Rodgers began to strut off feeling like a “real” cop. His Houndour (that didn’t look nearly as mangy) followed behind him.

“Officer! Officer!” Azzen called. Rodgers turned around with an emphatic shrug and looked the prisoner sharply in the eyes. “I have a few words for you before you leave me: bark, bark.”

Rodgers threw his hands up in the air and he pointed at Az sharply. “That’s it scumbag, you and doggy here are going to have some fun tonight, right?” He kicked the Houndour sharply who let out a growl in Azzen’s direction. “I’ll make him chew you up and spit you out. Just wait.” Feeling he had asserted himself, Rodgers walked upstairs and out of sight.

Az stirred in his cell and looked around in the poorly illuminated cell block. The place was ancient. The bars were rusty, and the only thing separating individuals cells from one another were iron bars. It was quite possible to see everyone. Speaking of others, there were only two other people Azzen could make out. One was asleep on some ratty cot, and the other was near the end of the cells. He was curled into a ball on the floor and was attempting to try and block out everything. The man had been relieved of his normal attire and was wearing a jumpsuit like the sleeping inmate.

“Excuse me, look over here!” Azzen spat through the brown bars of his cell. The words reached Mr. Fetal Position and he looked up from behind a pair of dark glasses. “Are you a man named Brown?” Suddenly, prisoners seemed to step out of the shadows with their faces pressed to the bars. The man in the ball nodded weakly.

One of the inmates opened his toothless mouth to speak. “You mean Pure Boy? That’s him. Who wants to know?”

“Knock it off Leslie.” Another inmate added. “He gets a little protective of Brownie because the coppers like to pick on him more than anyone else. They say he’s a Rocket… but have you seen the guy?” The inmate pointed a thin arm to Brown’s cell. “This guy struggles to use the crapper you know? He don’t get in no fights or nothing!”

“I am aware. He’s innocent and I’m going to save him.” Azzen said flatly. Several inmates moved hopefully to the bars, but Az shook his head at them. “I apologize for the rest of you, but I know many of you are true crooks.” Surprisingly, there was no outburst.

“Stop your yammering and just stick it to those pigs if you have the guts Mr. Hero!” a short inmate hollered. “You’re just talk, buddy. If you’re not a crook like the rest of us, then why are you in here? Tell me! Go on!”

“I haven’t done anyone wrong, elf. Now leave me alone. I’m supposed to be mauled in a few hours and I would like it done without your extra communication.” Az spat. He propped himself up against the back of his cell and sat down on the dirty floor in an attempt to catch a few winks for the night ahead.

When the shuffling of feet woke Az from his light sleep, the cells were dark and some snores echoed throughout the complex. Rodgers was approaching, and judging by the smaller steps along side him, he brought The Mauler as well.

“You awake, scum?” Rodgers hissed. He opened the cell and stepped inside with the Houndour. “You should have known that I had both the courage and the brains to sneak in here and get you alone.”

“There are still cops upstairs, your fool. Don’t you think one of them will hear you trying to maul me?” Az said with a wide grin. Rodgers merely shook his head clipped his keys to his belt and clicked his radio off.

“Those suckers upstairs are as guilty of this as I am. They don’t care what I do to you. Hell, I almost thought about bringing some Jennies down here just to show them how tough I am. They dig that sort of stuff. Now hold still. Any last words before you spend the next months with your jaw wired shut and your skin peeling off?”

“Actually, I do. They’re not for you, so don’t worry your pea brain, you’re exempt from the work.” Azzen stood himself up and he looked to the not-as-mangy-as-before-Houndour. “Houndour, would you be so kind and use Bite on our good friend?”

“You stupid piece of trash, are you mental? This is my Pokemon! Why in the hell would he listen to yo—“ Rodgers let out a muffled yell as Houndour bit him right in the calf. He toppled to the floor and began to tear up.

“Correction, this well kept Houndour is mine. Your abused little pup is probably out in a ditch. But count yourself lucky, if Houndour here hadn’t had pulled the switcheroo on the spot, he would have gone with Plan A: burn the station down.” Azzen said with a laugh. In truth, he was pleasantly surprised that his Pokemon had started to take after him.



Rodgers took in air to yell “Help” but a Tackle from Houndour caused him to black out in pain. A small bit of blood had pooled on his uniform bottoms, and it seemed to belong on the floor… like a missing puzzle piece. Az bent over and picked up the cop’s key ring and jiggled it before him.

Silently, Azzen slipped out of his cell and made his way to Brown’s. When he arrived, Brown toddled over to the bars and seemed to be weeping. “You are actually serious? I knew someone would come in here to get me… but you? Who are you guys?”

Az gave no response. He kept trying keys, and cursed as many of them didn’t work. Some footsteps were heard coming near to the stairs and the echoed loudly in the now stirring jail level. “Hey Rodgers!” a female voice called out. “We still on for dinner?”

Az swore again, but a quick click signified that he had found the right key. He hastily swung the heavy door open and pulled Brown out. One of the inmates was beginning to mutter something about wanting to be rescued, but the “feral” Houndour barred his teeth and roared at him, this silencing him and any other rabble-rousers.

The main floor was boring. Only three people were on duty: Officer Jenny who was near the top of the stairs, one cop, and one dispatcher. There must have been some out on the beat, and more than likely (using Rodgers’ persona as a base) even more officers out screwing around. Suddenly, Jenny came crashing down on her butt as two prisoners gave her the bum’s rush. A Houndour followed close behind, and it released thick purple Smog into the air. The escapees had already covered their noses and mouths, and were making a rush to the door. They successfully busted out, but the cops were close behind. The dispatcher stayed back, but began to yell “We have a breakout in progress!” over and over again into the radio.

“Stay down!” Azzen hissed as he pulled Brown into some bushes. One of the Officers jumped onto a motorbike and sped off. The other was getting into a squad car. There was more movement in the bushes, but the jail breaker shook his head. “Not yet.” He muttered. As the squad car revved up, the tires spun… but they were not meeting the ground. A purple energy surrounded the car’s tires, and it was going nowhere.

The cop stepped out of the car, and just as he did, a spray of water and ice knocked him down. Slowpoke and Snorunt stepped out from behind a tree, and Ralts leapt out of the bushes to confirm their attacks.

Wasting no time, Azzen pulled Brown into the car, and his Pokemon piled in (Ralts was holding some paper) and slammed the door. The tires were released from their psychic prison, and the car shot forward, running over a chain link fence in the process. It turned sharp and made it to a main road.

Brown took the paper from the Ralts when he wasn’t looking and let out a quick gasp. “This? This was your plan!” He said in disbelief.
Plan:
• Get caught
• Go to jail
• ?????
• Get keys
• ?????
• Brown is home
• Return to HQ

“Never mind all that.” Az said angrily. “Keep your eyes on the road signs and help me get you home or to your safe house!” There was chatter over the car’s radio pertaining to “escapees in car A-12” going down Main Street. “We don’t have that long before the cops are going to be on us!”

Brown shot up and adjusted his specs. “Ok! It’s just… your plan seemed too unprofessional! How did you make it this far? Luck?” Brown said no more when he saw Az nod. “Fine, take a left down here!”

The car veered sharply to the left, and Azzen stepped on the gas. Unfortunately, a squad car and squad bike pulled up behind them. “Attention criminals! You are under arrest! Pull over now! We are more than capable of defeating you!”

It was then that Az noticed the large red ‘R’ on the front of all the vehicles. Brown wasn’t a criminal, and either was Azzen. These “cops” were just puppets. Sure, a few of them might have been true heroes, but now they were the real scumbags. Delivering Brown home would be a real stab to them, and he was sure it would feel good.

“Take this road up two more lights and take a hard right!” Brown called out. He cringed as his driver blew through two red lights and almost smashed into a tree. The pursuers yelled more warnings from their megaphones, but Az took no heed.

“How far away are you from here?” Az said looking over at his mirror. He cringed as it melted away. Officer Jenny’s Torchic was responsible. These fellows were shooting to kill. A Graveler popped on top of the other squad car (denting its roof) and began to hurl rocks. One smashed into the squad car’s fuel tank, and the gas was slowly draining.

“I’m at the end of that river that cuts through town, here, and the Route over, why?” Brown said sheepishly. Azzen was about to respond, but a thrown rock slammed into the hood, greatly decreasing the car’s speed, and causing flames to swell beneath it.

The car exploded and the two original officers on the beat were joined by two more, then four. They moved closer to the car and its dying flames, and were shocked to find no burnt corpses or fried Pokemon. Jenny reached in and pulled out a smoldering escape plan.

“Split up! Some of you return to base, some of you head South, I’ll stay here. Higgins said a Ralts was present at the time his vehicle was stolen, it’s all to possible that our little friends teleported out! MOVE!” She roared stamping her foot. The cars dispersed and she stood over the burnt out car and released a monstrous Donphan. Its skin was bulging, and it had a large red ‘R’ on its silver back.

Jenny was correct. The team had Teleported, but only back to the town’s Pokecenter. Azzen recalled all of his Pokemon except for Slowpoke and Snorunt. He pulled Brown close and pointed to an ornate bridge with the river rushing below it.

“You’ve got to be kidding!” Brown stammered. “I can’t swim that! I’ll drown in there! Just leave me behind!”

“No Mr. Brown, we’re riding. I’ll drive like before, but you’re going to have to help me out. Do you see my Snorunt? If we’re under attack from the shoreline, it’ll be your job to tell her what to do. Slowpoke may be a great swimmer, but he needs help when it comes to evading obstacles.” Azzen said getting Slowpoke into the water. He plopped on, and Brown followed. The “damsel” was squeezing Snorunt tightly.

Cop cars had zoomed past on the road, but the Pokeferry to Freedom had gone unnoticed. The current was decent, and there were no rocks as Azzen expected. However, as they drew to the site of their wreck, things became bad.

Jenny was seasoned, and spotting the pink Pokemon was easy. In fact, she had ended up ordering everyone to her position just so the fools could make it this far. Her mutant Donphan waited closely. As the quartet began to fade out of site, the Donphan charged off, leaving a trail of fire behind it.

“Incoming enemy from the rear, get ready!” Azzen called out giving Slowpoke a quick jolt to get him moving. Their speed increased, but the flaming Donphan was easily keeping up. “At least it can’t attack us when it’s rolling…” Az sighed. But, as usual, it was too early.

The Donphan rolled faster, and flames jumped out towards the sailors. Brown yelled and almost dropped Snorunt into the water. However, he became aware that he couldn’t just restart this time. He had to step up to bat. So, as any great hero would, he shook the Snorunt. “Just kill it!” He cried. “Hurry! Use an attack!” Snorunt huffed and shot out icy beams with each shake. When the Donphan rolled regularly, the beams bounced off, but one lucky hit struck it as the roller charged up a fire burst.

“Be careful with Ice Beam!” Az called out. “That move has a limited amount of PP, don’t just waste it!” Slowpoke was singed by a flame, and their speed decreased slightly. Despite being a Water type, the fire had normal effectiveness instead of a diminished one.

“Right, come on, I’ve played games like this before. Are you ready?” Brown called out to Snorunt. He watched the Donphan closely, and fired a beam just as the freak launched some flames toward them. It connected and Donphan wobbled. At its current speed, a full recovery was impossible.

Slowpoke was however stuck. A black spot formed on its tail and it let out a moan. The Water Pokemon was burned. With each passing moment, the ferry became harder to control. “Dang! Brown, speed up this operation! We might end up going under!”

He nodded. This time, he let the Donphan charge up, but he changed things up. Snorunt shot out a horrendous blast of sow and ice instead of a focused Ice Beam. It was Blizzard. Donphan roared and fell on its side. It didn’t go down without a memento though… it shot out a large beam and Slowpoke fainted in the water. With their ferry destroyed, everyone was taken under. Az blacked out.

The sounds of Beethoven and the crackling of fire caused Azzen to shoot up from his damp bed. It was a cabin of sorts. Brown was finishing up doctoring Snorunt and Slowpoke with Max Revives when he turned to Azzen with a smile.

“I see you’re up! We made it, guy!” Brown said gleefully. “There was no way they could find us! But in advance, I apologize for using your unconscious body as a life-preserver. We hit a few rocks.” At this comment, Az looked at his swollen leg and grimaced.

“It’s alright. Do you think you’re safe?” Azzen said weakly.

“I know we are. That mutant was lost a ways back and I think those crooked cops think we’re Magikarp food by now. But hey, when my good friend comes to visit, I might have something for you. Check your mail will ya! That is… unless you want to stay here.” Brown smiled convincingly, but Az was already up and limping. He shook Brown’s hand, but found himself too weak to speak up and decline the reward.

“Do you have to leave so…” Brown hung his head when he realized that the mysterious Trainer had already vanished with the use of his Ralts’ Teleport.

“Bye…” Brown murmured to the darkness. He saw a number sitting on his table and smiled contently.

Mission: So you want to be a hero?
Poster: Rui-Rui

Objective(s): Capture the terrorist alive and avoid further damage to others or yourself.



Most of Azzen’s missions to this date involved minor consequences when it came to failure when compared to this one. You see, one false move or a bad step would lead to a painful and possibly slow death at the hands of one crazy woman. The mission clearly stated that the female terrorist was not going to feel any sympathy when it came to adding another tally to her body count. It was worth it. If the Rockets could be taken down, this sick little kitten could meet her end as well.

The police had only a small role aside from promising to take the terrorist into custody; providing clues to her next target. Luckily, they had pulled through on that end. The Canalave Library was lucky winner. What exactly the psychotic femme wanted in there was unknown to the police, but did it really matter? If she was going to be there, something bad was going to follow in her footsteps.

Azzen’s team of six hung neatly on his belt. Each Pokemon had been told of the risks severe injury (and/or death), but the means in which the evildoer would inflict them. The speech had been something of the lines of “Expect anything and everything.” That was the only thing that the Snagem could’ve said with the utmost of certainty. People like the currently unnamed menace to society were common in older movies they lied, stole, and cheated to get their fix in life. Though it was quite a generic persona for an actor to fill, Az figured that facing such a person outside of a movie theater would be a large task.

Night was fading into day in Canalave and the ships the city was known for had just started to pull in for the day. Az was on the left side of the city’s main bridge and was watching the Library intently from an abandoned house. The only people who had entered the library were apparently the librarians themselves. Each one of the identically clad bookworms had to use a key to get in. Apparently the place wasn’t open. Azzen had chosen to distance himself as much as he could from the house of books just in case the terrorist was watching it too. Even if he stopped by just to check the hours, the Snagem figured he could’ve been easy prey. He wasn’t exactly a familiar face around town.

Azzen drifted off to sleep for about half an hour, but he awoke to find one of the staff members opening the doors of the salty library for the day. The woman propped up the door with a large stone and took in the warm sea breeze. Still, there was no sign of anything out of the ordinary. But then again, if a terrorist wanted to spread fear and destruction, taking over a library with just the staff inside it would be pretty useless when compared to a large… Az pulled out a pair of binoculars and zoomed in on a banner a second librarian was hanging. In big red letters were the words “SILENT AUCTION” with a happy Machoke giving a thumbs-up on the side.

“At least now I have a clue.” Azzen mumbled to his sleeping Gliscor. The Pokemon had made a good effort in trying to stay alert, but this one had a streak of laziness in him for sure. Twice Az found him trying to grab some coffee out of the pot his trainer had set up on a makeshift table. He made the mistake of letting his Pokemon try some, but instead of an instant boost, Gliscor suffered from an instant crash and was currently trying to break free of it.

Over the next few hours, a variety of wealthy citizens arrived at the docks from who knows where. The ships they came in on looked entirely different, so it was quite possible they came from every region in known world. The rich were often eccentrics who wasted no chance to show off their wealth, a majestic boat ride to some silent auction to purchase frivolous old tomes was a prime opportunity to show off one’s wealth with other richies. It was also the prime opportunity to take out some very important people and send a message. On top of that, making off with those sought after tomes (or whatever the items were) would be one hell of a bonus.

The deluge of nobles began to decrease within the hour the first batch showed up. Some flew in on expensive looking flying Pokemon while others rode or just left their local residences. This event was obviously top of the line and the location suggested that people would only make the special trip to the famous library if they really wanted to. This was probably to deter any average Joes who wanted to try and fit in with the bluebloods. Once a few stragglers entered into the building, the librarian who had first opened up shop closed the swinging door and pulled the blinds.

“Something is going to go down.” Az said shaking Gliscor awake. “Do me a favor and check with Honchkrow outside.” He wasn’t going to lose focus on his vantage point. Adjusting the scope was a real pain, especially since Azzen had become so used to looking through “his” setting for so long.

Gliscor waved a claw to the evolved bird that scanned the surrounding area with his extra-keen vision. Honchkrow spied nothing and waved a wing from his rooftop perch. Until the auction ended, the Big Boss Pokemon only gave that signal. No bodies were blown up, no one was held hostage, and most of all… there was no sign of a terrorist let alone a punk kid throwing rocks. Hell, the only person who ever crossed Azzen’s field of view was an obese jogger who had a tendency to pull his track suit out of his mammoth crack every three steps or so. If anyone was terrorizing anyone, he would have been the only culprit.

Older people began to pour out of the library around nightfall and Azzen was close to knocking out. His eyes hurt like hell, and his legs had surpassed the point of being “asleep” by far. They were dead. Perhaps the tips he had gained from the police were a bit off. Such a thing tended to happen every now and again. It was quite likely that the terrorist had launched some form of a mini disinformation shade to hide her tracks while she regrouped or readied another attack. On the subject of mistakes, the criminal could have easily set a present deep inside the library too that hadn’t activated at the right time.
Near the end of line, three older men were toting some expensive look books and laughing merrily. One of their mouths was running rapidly, and he extended an arm to a building across the bridge. The rich folks all threw their hats up and let out some cheers that barely resonated to Azzen’s location. Az panned over to the location and spied the word “Restaurant” on a large (and fine) sign. Apparently these gracious lords were taking the losers out to dinner. How kind they were (pissing) using their money that way. There was nothing (uncommon) common about such a (tired) kind gesture.

Once the party had successfully crossed the bridge, Gliscor and Azzen made their way into the library. He was greeted by the Head Librarian who made it a point to stay quiet. There were no other patrons as far as he could tell, but he respected the request anyway. He didn’t need to talk anyone, is job was to search and sniff about for anything nefarious or out of place.

Azzen and Gliscor had made their way to the top floor and had only found one thing out of the ordinary: a stack of nudey books hidden behind an older shelf. They were ancient and it was likely the girls were hags by now… Az had to check for anything, so “glancing” through them for half an hour was warranted. They could have been laced with a powerful nerve agent after all! Despite this, the search was ending and miraculously, nothing was found. But then again, maybe ‘miraculous’ was the wrong term. It was damn freaky that nothing was found in the exact location a terrorist was to strike! Everything she could have wanted had been there! Important people, cash, rare items! “I wish something would put my mind at ease. Is this place bugged or not?” Azzen said examining the last book.

Is it too cynical to say that his prayer was answered?

Across the street, a loud noise echoed. It was loud and boosted by the screams of bystanders. Something was rigged… and it was the restaurant. Was he being watched? Did this terrorist know his every move before he made it? Was Azzen just stupid? Questions swirled through his dazed mind, but the cries from downstairs notified him to some trouble brewing. A figure slipped up the stairs behind him with some sort of cord and began to pull tight in it. Gliscor and Honchkrow zoomed in with the intention of saving their Trainer, but a white burst goop pinned them to the walls. It was some form of a Sticky Bomb, and a damn good one. Soon, all became black as Azzen fought for consciousness. He threw his weakening gaze behind him to not find a human choking him, but a Machoke who was missing an eye. With a hazy gaze, Az spied some lucky charm around the Pokemon’s neck… but it was soon clouded by darkness.

A soft hand tapped Azzen’s face. It was playful, but the thought was dismissed when the once friendly hand smacked the dazed Snagem across the face four times. Still not wanting to awaken from the safety of the unconsciousness realm, Az chose not to go into the light. An icy bucket of water chilled his bones, and he opened his blurred eyes and looked hastily around the room. The walls were all a made of a dark gray metal, and four small wooden tables were pushed up against the wall closest to his left.

On the tables were the usual tools of madmen with the intention of inflicting torturous pain (knives, a gun, a hammer), but on one “special” table sat some items that just didn’t belong in the situation, aside from his Pokeballs of course. Beside a decorative tank with a few ocean-faring Pokemon swimming in its salty waters stood four (full) salt shakers, a Lucky Buneary’s foot, and a funnel. As Az went to scan more of the random items on the table, a few distressed moans to his right caught his attention.

The Machoke with the lucky charm was holding some metallic form of a rolling pin over the tail of Azzen’s restrained Gliscor. The Pokemon was on a metallic slab and bound at claws, neck, torso, and tail. The goon was using its pin to force all of Gliscor’s venom out of his stinger by squeezing from the bottom of his stinger (much as you would a tube of toothpaste) into a beaker that was almost entirely full of the green venom.

Azzen was going to look around more, but a gloved hand grabbed his chin and jerked his face forward. He got an eyeful of a charm necklace, but the owner stepped back quickly. Her white boots carefully stepped over a crack in the floor and she took a pretentious stance once the unlucky crisis was adverted. The terrorist was clad in a green jumpsuit from the neck down. On the simple suit hung various belts and pouches, and of course, her three Pokeballs. She had some blue bandanna wrapped around her head that was almost buried beneath her long brown hair. The terrorist wore a cocky smile beneath her piercing green eyes.

“This goes quite easily if you’re willing to play along.” She cooed stepping over to the “madman” table and picking up a large combat knife. “If you tell me who you belong to, where they are, and how to get in, you’ll make it out of here in a condition well enough to crawl back to your employers.” She let out a devilish laugh and swung her knife in the air. “The knife goes slice, slice, slice.” The terrorist laughed. It was probably some horrible nursery school phrase which was spoken at her hellish daycare many years ago.

Azzen shook, but his arms were bound together and dangling from the ceiling. He only succeeded in looking like a Metapod in the breeze. Realizing that he needed to buy some time to think, Az tried to communicate. “What the hell do you want me to call you?” He said in a rasp. His throat hurt dreadfully and his voice was smooth as sandpaper. “How did I get here?”

“I expected someone like you to be this mouthy. The entire time you were under Hypnosis’ effect you kept babbling to yourself.” She paced back and fourth (avoiding the small crack in the floor each time) and laughed to herself loudly from time to time. “I used your Kirlia to Teleport us to my little butcher shop. You can find him in a block of ice if you turn around. And you can call me Cindy… or God if you want. Your life is in my hand either way.” ‘Cindy’ said with another cackle. She planted her foot on the crack and took no notice.

Azzen’s eyes darted quickly to the “superstitious violation” and decided to test the hazy hypothesis he had begun to piece together. He pulled his head up and smiled to Cindy the Wacky Terrorist and caught her piercing gaze. “Break you mother’s back.”

“What the hell do you mean?” The terrorist said holding the knife defensively. “Is this some sort of secret code? Well I hate to break it to you buddy, you’re not making it out of here unless I-“

“You stepped on a crack.” Azzen replied with a cough. The Snagem was just now realizing how much his throat burned. That Machoke had choked him quite well. It was good to see the Pokemon living up to its name. His smile faded as Cindy returned a horrible (and frightened) snarl in his direction. She hastily reached for the salt shaker on the “odd” table and threw a pinch over her left shoulder. “God” then let Her wrath be known upon the foolish mortal by delivering a horrendous kick to his face. Cindy was quite flexible…

The captive reeled back and swung like a pendulum. The notion made him sick to his weakened stomach and he turned pale. He could feel warm blood seep out of his cheek and instantly cool in the freezing room. Azzen’s eyes shot open as the knife wielding psychopath advanced on Gliscor’s bottle of poison. Cindy passed a snide look in his direction and began to dip her knife into the solution. After about three stirs, she held the dripping blade and inch from Az’s nose. The stench was unbearable, but she made sure he couldn’t squirm away from it.

Cindy’s voice was hushed, by her anger had risen to a new level. “You like to mock people, don’t you?” The knife shook in her hand and a drop slid down her wrist. Instantly it became inflamed, but she took no notice. “Omens and luck are the only certain things a God like me has to answer to, so I take them all quite seriously. Due to your blasphemy, I have to punish you before the torture begins. Machoke, grab his head.” Instantly, the muscled fiend grabbed Azzen’s head in its mighty grasp. Instinctively, the captive shook and tried to bite the hands that held him, but learned quickly that such and attempt was better not wasted. With a grin of satisfaction, the terrorist raised the poison dripping knife over Azzen’s left eye and giggled as a droplet slithered down the blade. Az locked eyes with the incoming drop and could only stare in horror as it met his pupil with a fiery kiss. Instantly his vision faded away and he felt the eye and the surrounding area swell and burn.

“Hold him until he stops shaking.” Cindy hissed. She was going to add another drop to his right eye, but a stream of vomit shot fourth onto the captor’s face. The thick stream of bile (brought fourth by a combination of the stench and pain) forced her to leap back in surprise and slam into the table where Azzen’s Pokeballs were kept. Only one plopped to the floor, but as luck would have it, it didn’t break open. Azzen heard the noise not followed by a Pokemon’s cry, so he began to hastily yell “Break her back! Break her back! Break your mother’s damn back!” as the Machoke’s squeeze tightened around his skull as if to punish him.

Cindy began to dig for the salt blindly and hopped about still in recoil. She kicked the ball to the corner to crush any hope Az had of being rescued. She held the salt and threw the entire shaker over her shoulder. She was whining and ordered her Machoke to let go. The terrorist wanted the pleasure to be all her own. “I’ll beat you within and inch of your life!” She shrieked waving her fists madly. “But first your Pokemon will suffer! I’ll snap each of its arms off and beat you with them! Wheel the Gliscor over!”

Machoke wheeled the slab with the restrained Pokemon who had suddenly begun to thrash. She pulled out a surgical saw from the “terrorist” table and put it to the Pokemon’s claw. “Give me a reason to stop this and I will!” Cindy shrieked.

“Poison sting!” Azzen coughed. Quickly the Machoke dove before its master to shield her from the attack… that wasn’t aimed at her. Tiny pins of purple energy shot to the corner and the “God” began to howl with laughter. “So you’ve made your choice, and you’ve failed! Say goodbye to the HEAD!” She repositioned the saw, but a sudden noise from across the room frightened her and she dropped it.

“Shedinja! Shed!” The husk of a Pokemon said twirling about. The Machoke began to make swings at the Pokemon, but no damage was done due to its Wonder Guard ability. The Pokemon fired off a series of Fury Swipes and the Machoke stumbled back, but the damage was minute at best. Both it and its master were up against a wall trying to catch their breath.

Azzen shook wildly and smirked. Shedinja turned to his master ready to charge an attack, but he shook his head. “A have a proposition for you Cindy!” Az called hoarsely. “You either surrender or I make the rest of your life unlucky.” Machoke was already in the corner charging up a Fire Blast. Though the species wasn’t fear in terms of Special Attack, all it needed was one hit to toast Shedinja for good. However, on the mentioning of omens and luck, she called the Pokemon back.

“Speak! And if you’re mocking me…” She released a shiny Electrode who looked ready to burst. “I’ll blow you and all of your Pokemon up. No one will find your body, no matter how hard they look.”

“First have your Pokemon stand down. Get them to stand on the opposite side of the room, or I pull a trick, go it?” Azzen said feeling power slowly gaining in his favor. “Or Shedinja pops open those other Pokeballs and I swear that they’ll mob you before you can issue Explosion.”

Cindy straightened up and forced her Pokemon to the opposite end of the room. A quick shiver in her spine indicated to the half-blind Snagem that she knew exactly where he was going with this Shedinja trick… and it bothered her. That’s probably why her Pokemon didn’t line up exactly behind the ghostly insect.



“Good, you’re following directions well.” He looked to his Pokemon who both picked up on his vibe. “You know of the old Shedinja Legend, don’t you? They say if a human looks into the hole in its back, their spirit… their soul… is stripped from them. Tell me, do you “Gods” have souls?” At his words, Cindy shook and she was reaching for some sort of device from her belt. “Bad choice! Shedinja, open the Gates of Hell!” The Pokemon flew quickly over to the terrorist and shoved the hole on its back directly onto her face. She froze. Just as her Pokemon were getting ready to react, a due of Shadow Balls were released from the Pokemon. One flew towards the enemy forces who hit the deck; the other exploded on Azzen’s chains and sent him sprawling to the floor.

Az crawled forward in his half blind daze and cursed his sudden lack of depth perception. The puking sensation returned to his throat, but he rose quickly and slammed his Pokeballs to the floor… releasing the other three Pokemon. They had no idea what exactly had transpired, but they were feral. Froslass fired a horrendous Blizzard on both foes while Houndoom fired Flamethrower which focused on the surprised Machoke. Honchkrow flew into the burning Pokemon and knocked it out with a well placed Wing Attack.

The only foe left was the unique Electrode who was slowly gathering energy for a dramatic Explosion. At this sight, Azzen summoned up his remaining energy and bolted for the door before him. His Pokemon (except for Shedinja) followed. Just as Cindy the “Souless” Terrorist said, there was Kirlia frozen in ice. It appeared artificial though, and a discarded bomb-capsule near the bottom of the small chunk confirmed this. Houndoom took charge and roasted the icy prison away. Time was short though. Shedinja was releasing distressed calls from the other room. Az went for one more sprint, but only managed to tumble into the “butchering chamber” and almost knock himself out. Electrode was engulfed in a fiery light and it smirked evilly as Explosion was released.

“No! It can’t end this wa-”The Snagem’s voice was soon erased from the room… as was everything else.

Kirlia nudged Azzen, and a stinky smell did the trick. Gliscor was freed and waving his tail in his Trainer’s face like a smelling salt. His eye was still damaged, but that didn’t mean that the new location his other eye was registering was fake. He was riding in some ambulance with an officer smiling down at him.

“A job well done, we are quite pleased. We charged you with a mission and you came through!” The officer laughed behind a thick mustache and patted Az on the shoulder. “At first a woman in Canalave thought you and the terrorist were just some drunken teens who passed out from a roll in the hay, but it didn’t take long for our officers to know just what had happened.”

Azzen nodded his pounding head and tried to suck everything in.


“We should have kept a better eye on you, but the explosion at the restaurant demanded our full attention. From what we’ve gathered, it was all a diversion the terrorist made to take our eyes off of you. Sadly, once we found out some fireworks were responsible, you were already gone.” The officer said with a bit of embarrassment on his lips. “We’ll pay for any medical bills that need to be paid, and we’ll give a good word to one of the high-ups whose names we found in that nifty devise in your pocket.”

Azzen shot up and began to pat his pockets. His SNAG was still in there and he was suddenly met with a bolt of pain in his eye. The wounded Snagem laid his head back down.

“Worry not! I didn’t read anything. Just rest and know that you’ve done well. But you’ll have to tell me how in the hell you managed to put her into shock!”

Shedinja floated through the small section of the ambulance and Azzen smiled weakly before passing out. His thoughts were harsh before he completely faded away.

You’re relying more and more on stretch decisions and dumb luck… that’s what got you captured in the first place. You need to…

The thoughts were swallowed by darkness.


MISSION COMPLETE:


OBJECTIVES MET:

• Terrorist Apprehended (Alive)
• Death Toll not increased
• No major damages to property or Pokemon

Summary:

Pokemon used: Kirlia, Gliscor, Honchkrow, Sheinja, Houndoom, Frosslass

Pokemon Defeated: Machoke, Electrode (damaged, but blew self up)

Money spent: NONE

Items used: NONE

Rewards gained in-mission: NONE