A familiar scene within Andaluust’s marketplace: Pokemon of all shapes and sizes shuffling back and forth, making small talk, engaging in business, arguing over petty disagreements, but generally lead their lives as normal. It always seemed to Desmond and Claire that this place would never change, no matter how many disasters or foreign invaders plagued the rest of the city. They did not dwell on this for long, however, as they and the others were extremely vigilante of their surroundings, making sure to keep their eyes on any nearby fruit stands as per the police report.
“It would be likely that he wouldn’t bother to do any business with these fruit vendors,” Claire mused. “So if he steals and gets caught, it would slow him down long enough for us to catch him.”
“Hopefully,” Desmond replied. “But of course, that’s only if we can stay that focused…”
The Ambassador, who appeared to be the most regal and understanding person any of the rookie Hunters had ever met, now gazed around the marketplace with the curiosity and wonder of a child. All of the sights, smells, sounds, these exotic sensations made her heart jump and body quake in delight. ‘What is that?’ ‘What do they sell?’ These questions came streaming out of her mouth a mile a minute, all of which Felicity happy to answer. The Raichu prided herself on being in vogue; to know everything about the culture of whatever area she was in. That shop? The finest native rugs. Those stands? The most delicious sweets in town.
It was at that that the Ambassador’s eyes lit up in excitement. “R-Really? Sweets?!”
“I did not know that Your Grace had such a sweet tooth,” Tenma commented, a bit amused.
“Yes, well,” the Ambassador twiddled her fingers nervously. “I sometimes go a little over board, but I can never help myself whenever I see them! Can we please buy some, please please?”
Desmond could not help but chuckle at the Frosslass’s giddy dance as she begged playfully. Just adorable… Desmond thought. “Alright, okay. No need for you to beg to us, buy whatever you want.”
“Here’s some money, Your Grace,” Claire offered, gently placing the bills in her hand with a shadowy claw.
“Thank you, madam, but I would not want to impose.” The Ambassador objected politely.
“It fine, no worries!” Michael insisted. “This is a special occasion, after all!”
“Just have fun, Miss Ambwassador!” Sharity replied giddily.
“You should hurry, Your Highness,” Desmond reminded. “I know it is apart of your plan to use yourself as bait, but standing out in the open like sitting ducks isn’t going to do us any good, either.”
“For once I agree with Chicken Little,” Vincenzo chimed in. “Last thing we want is for those thugs to put a bruise on that pretty little head of yours.”
Felicity shot a glare at both the Furfrou and Combusken, displeased with the two getting in the way of her attempts to appease the Ambassador. “Yes, well, I think it is wrong to rush Your Grace, don’t you? After all, she is a guest in our city. She’s earned the right to have a bit of fun.” Taking the Frosslass by her hand, Felicity guided her over to the sweet stand, followed closely by Sharity, and Tenma.
As that group went with the Ambassador, Claire gave a weary sigh. “Things are going to be pretty tough, aren’t they? Especially since Felicity seems to be quite…eager to get close to the Ambassador.”
“Heh, eager is one thing,” Vincenzo began. “Fifi would yank her own tail off if it meant getting to live in the lap of luxury. But you would know that better than anyone, wouldn’t you ‘Desi’?”
Claire and Desmond froze for a moment, taken aback by Vincenzo’s obviously inflammatory statement. Desmond could only gnash his beak in response: Vincenzo had always had it out for him since they first met. Felicity obviously told him about their past relationship together, but how much she told him and what truth she decided to twist he had no knowledge of. He knew well that he deserved his punishment from Felicity, but the last thing he wanted was to be bothered even more by Vincenzo. Not that he lacked any right to stick up for his partner, but for as much as the Furfrou disliked Desmond, Desmond simply could not stand him.
“Why don’t you save the snide crap for later, Vin?” Desmond responded aggressively. “After all, just as Felicity said; we wouldn’t want to be vulgar in front of Your Grace.” Vincenzo merely smiled a wide, cruel smile to the Combusken’s threat.
“Both of you stop!” Claire hissed. “The last thing we need right now is to get into any arguments. Please just put it aside, for the mission.” Claire looked away somberly as both Desmond and Vincenzo turned away from one another angrily.
Michael stood before the three awkwardly, gulping deeply before chiming in with, “Err, well, speaking of arguments, there seems to be a lot of people yelling about something over there.” Michael pointed further down the marketplace where a large group of people were gathered by a wall, all of whom were shouting belligerently, cursing at someone in the center.
Desmond, Claire, and Vincenzo immediately spun around to view the scene, and gasped in shock. “What’s going on?” Claire exclaimed. “Who are all those people?”
“This definitely isn’t normal,” Desmond reasoned. “We should check it out. Vin, Michael, stay here and watch over the others. Claire, you’re with me.” The two rushed off before the Vulpix or Furfrou could object, reaching the edge of the crowd where Claire promptly floated above them to get a look at what precisely was the object of their ire. The crowd jeered and through trash at a Smeargle who stood in front of a rather childishly drawn mural, depicting a rudimentary image of the white giant, Regiggias, with text at the top and bottom stating ‘A friend to us all; his knowledge is our power!’
“You runt! You wash that crap off right now!”
“Friend?! That thing destroyed my freakin’ house!”
“That monster is only out to kill us all! It can keep its knowledge to itself!”
The Smeargle gave off an irritated growl. “L-Leave me alone! I was just paid by the Hunters to paint this! Ask them about this!”
“Oh, really?” a voice from his side snorted. From out of the crowd came a Gliscor and Gurdurr, both of whom had gold badges at their side attached to belts. The crowd suddenly hushed and stepped back, allowing the police officers to stand over the downed and bullied Smeargle. “Well, from we can see here you’re the only one causing a ruckus with that finger painting.” The Gurdurr finished with a cruel smirk.
“Maybe if you try cleaning it up, we’ll think of letting you off easy.” The Gliscor quipped coldly. “Just maybe.” The Smeargle gulped audibly, backed into a corner by the many hostile bodies around him.
“Why not let him off the hook now? After all, he’s just being paid to do a job.” The crowed snapped around to turn their attention to the Combusken that had snuck his way through the crowd over to where the officers stood. “I want to blame anyone; blame a hunter, like me.”
As the crowd mumbled and murmured nervously amongst themselves, the Gurdurr slowly made his way over to Desmond, hefting his iron bar over his shoulder. “Heh, coming in to take responsibility, eh?” The Gurdurr chortled loudly before continuing. “Ya’ really think that you can convince us ta’ support that giant white turd after it wrecked half the city? Let me letcha in on a little secret: while youse and the rest of those brats from da’ Explorers and Researchers were getting special treatment, we cops had to clean up the mess that thing made.” He now moved from Desmond to address the crowd. “You all think that we trust these guys to be our friends? Ha, don’t make me laugh!” The crowd began to cheer and chortle in agreement, jeering at Desmond with even more insults. Desmond already had known for a while that the Hunter’s guild was working in conjunction with the Researchers to attempt to change the giant’s image. Judging by the reaction of the crowd, he knew just how massive of an undertaking this would be. But he needed to try and calm the crowd, at least to prevent the angry mob that was clearly being stoked up.
“Your feelings, they are not unwarranted,” a familiar voice started gently, making the crowd silent as they tried to identify its owner. Coming up from the shadows, Claire stared at the crowd with an unshakable determination as she continued. “I could not imagine what it must have felt like to see your homes destroyed, friends injured, everything you’ve been through gone in an instant. But the giant has intelligence and strength that could also possibly become our greatest asset! Think about it: if it truly has decided to ally with us, then it could help you to rebuild your homes, protect us from the dangers that currently plague us, even offer us knowledge that we were never aware of. So I ask you, please look into your hearts and move past your feelings of anger and resentment; we can all rely on the white giant’s power to better our lives!”
The crowd mumbled to each other once more, discussing amongst themselves the merit of the Misdreavus’s words.
“Can we really be sure about what she said?”
“I dunno, a big monster would make all my yard work easier!”
“Yeah, and give the smack down to those ninjas runnin’ around!”
“I just hope that thing can get me a tool that stops my toilet from clogging…”
Claire sighed with deep relief, turning to Desmond with a wide grin, made slightly goofier when included with two thumbs-up from her shadow claws.
“There, so do you see now?” Desmond spoke up. “The last thing any of us needs now is to waste a perfect opportunity to better our lives. Please, give us Hunters a chance to find out what he is truly capable of, and how that can be used to strengthen us.” Placing his hand to his heart, he finished with, “If anything goes wrong, us Hunters promise to take responsibility.”
The murmurs from the crowd grew louder and louder, finally turning into cheers and claps.
“You all better keep that thing under control!”
“Yeah, I wanna keep my house this time!”
The Gurdurr growled, gripping his iron bar hard enough to start to make it bend. “Oh, come on! Do youse nimrods really believe all the flowery words these brats are spouting?!” His shouts were drowned out by the crowd’s own elated shouts. He shot daggers right at the two Hunters, threatening through gritted teeth “You two are coming downtown with me; maybe some time in the slammer for disturbin’ will git’ you two to wise up!”
“I don’t think that will be necessary,” the Gurdurr turned his attention over to the source of the voice, the Ambassador, who had come out of the already dissipating crowd, the other hunters standing closely to her to guard her. “These two were merely trying to diffuse a situation, which it seemed that you were only exacerbating. Don’t you think that some thanks are warranted?”
“Grr… You little sk-”
“Enough.” The Gliscor raised his claw in front of the Gurdurr to silence him. “We’re done here.”
“B-B-But…” the Gurdurr stammered, all of his bravado now deflated.
“These kids are dealing with stuff way out of our pay grades (well, your’s anyway). Just know that we shouldn’t be messing with that lady.” The Gliscor reasoned calmly. He then turned to Desmond with a stern glare, saying to him, “I don’t trust that thing to not turn on us.”
“If it was going to, it would’ve done it already.” Desmond replied scathingly.
“Tch, whatever,” the Gliscor scoffed, then snapping his claws to get the crowd’s attention. “Alright, beat it! Nothin’ to see here!”
As the crowd started to slowly disperse, the Smeargle ran up to Desmond and Claire and immediately dropped to his knees. “Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou!” he thanked incessantly. “I wouldn’t want to think about what would happen if didn’t come along! I would’ve been cut up, boiled, sautéed; they probably wouldn’t have used the right spices!”
“Uhh…you’re welcome…” Desmond responded awkwardly, stepping back slightly.
“You don’t have to thank us,” Claire began. “Just stay safe, alright?”
The Smeargle nodded vigorously, almost enough seemingly for his head to roll off his body. “Yes, yes! I should probably leave before those officers thinks of cracking my head!” The Smeargle then ran off, dust trails flying out from his legs.
“He tends to speak in food metaphors quite a bit, doesn’t he?” Tenma surmised.
“Going by how awful that scribble of mural he painted is, I think he would be better suited to be chef.” Felicity sassed.
The Ambassador chuckled. “Well, I suppose that everyone had their quirks. Now that it seems that everything is in order, we can-”
The Hunters and their charge were suddenly stunned by a blast that boomed over to their side, from which a plume of fog erupted and engulfed the surrounding area. The remaining crowd from the angry mob scattered in terror, their shrieks melding together into a stew of chaos.
“It’s another attack!”
“I can’t see!”
“Dammit, where’d all this fog come from?!” Vincenzo exclaimed.
“Big bro, where are you?!” Sharity pleaded her voice full of fright.
“Right here, Sharity!” Michael shouted back. “Crap, if it weren’t for this fog, I’d be able to see!”
“It has to be one of the ninjas!” Tenma reasoned, placing her body closer to the Ambassador to guard her. “We have to find a way to dispel this-” She started to say, only for her to be cut off by a strike to her side, causing her to shriek in pain.
“Tenma!” Desmond exclaimed in panic. Immediately, he tensed his fist tightly, a mass of heat gathering around it, and slammed it into the ground, sending a blast of hot wind that cleared the fog around the ground. Claire saw her opportunity and conjured up a giant shadowy claw that enveloped the entire group, shielding them from further harm. Now underneath the claw, the group steadily got their bearings, despite the complete darkness they were entrapped in.
“Thanks for the cover, Claire.” Desmond complimented, making his way over to where the Ambassador and Tenma were in the darkness. “Try and see just which one of those guys is after us.”
“Even though I can see in the darkness just fine, some light would be best for all of us.” The Ambassador stated. Her wish was granted by Felicity, whose cheek pouches glowed with a bright blue light that illuminated the entire space. “Oh, my. Thank you, Lady Felicity!”
Felicity gave a curtsy in reply. “Of course, Your Grace. Anytime you need me, I’ll be in your service.”
Desmond completely ignored Felicity’s further attempts to sweeten up the Ambassador; instead studying Tenma’s wound intently. When he noticed that on her side looked to be burn marks, the wheels in his head began to turn. As he gave this more thought, he asked Tenma “How bad does it hurt? Do you feel any other effects like poison?”
“Not as bad as it looks, I assure you,” Tenma grunted. “But it’s still quite painful. And no, I do believe it is just a burn, as though it were from a Fire-type attack.”
“Wait a minute, Fire?” Michael questioned. “But none of those ninja guys are Fire type, so how’d they do that?”
“Simple, it was through Natural Gift,” Desmond responded, before continuing to elaborate. “That move can allow for someone to perform attacks of any type so long as they have the right berry. That’s how our assailant was able to follow up that fog with a Fire type attack.”
“So, that means, that Sceptile is the one attacking us!” Tenma concluded.
“Precisely,” Claire agreed as she peeked out from a hole made in the shadowy claw. “He’s on the rooftops just across from us, and it looks like he’s on the move.”
“So all that means is we gotta catch up to him,” Vincenzo concluded, his mouth beginning to water with a poisonous ooze becoming as plentiful as the thoughts of revenge on his mind. “I bet he’s not that tough in a one-on-one. I take ‘em out!”
The Furfrou got into a crouch, ready to race off before being interjected by Desmond’s shouting of “Wait! You can’t go after him alone, not before we think of something as a group.”
“Oh, shut it, Chicken Legs!” Vincenzo snapped. “Don’t the rest of ya’ have an Ambassador and an injured to look after? Just let me handle this: I’ll make this punk for pissing me off!”
“Even if you wanted too, Vin, you couldn’t just leave.” Claire spoke up. “This membrane I made can resist all sorts of attacks; you won’t be able to just run through it.”
Vincenzo growled in response before questioning, “So what do you suggest I do?”
“Stop your rash behavior for one,” Felicity replied, her eyes stern. “Before you get yourself and the whole lot of us killed!”
Vincenzo was quieted by his partner’s reprimand, only responding with a simple scoff. “So, what are your plans exactly?”
Desmond sighed heavily before starting; his statement earlier about every part of a plan having to work together in perfect unison seemed more and more ridiculous by the moment. “Simple; we lead him on and then trap him. If he underestimates us, he’ll no doubt get cocky and try and go in for the kill, and that’ll be his fatal mistake.”
“And just how do we go about that?” Felicity asked with an eyebrow raised.
“It starts with us getting the Ambassador somewhere safe from all this,” Desmond answered. “You take her, Tenma, and Sharity. Claire, Vin, and I will distract him and lead him away from where he could hurt others.”
“What about me?” Michael asked. “I doubt I would be doing any good just sitting here twiddling my thumbs.”
“Glad you asked,” Desmond started with a smirk. “There’s an alehouse a few buildings down. I need you to pick us up some ‘ammunition’. We’ll signal you when we’re ready.”
Michael grinned widely and nodded. “On it!”
“Nice to see you take charge,” Felicity said with a giggle. “Just try not to get yourself killed.”
“Same to you,” Desmond responded dryly. “Just make sure everything goes smoothly, alright.”
“Once we’re safe, I’ll fix fwu right up, Miss Tenma!” Sharity cheered.
“Thank you, little one,” Tenma answered. “I know you’ll heal it up nicely.”
“Everyone ready?” Claire turned to ask the group. “Once I lower this barrier, things will get hairy. Just remember to be safe alright?” Everyone nodded, their resolve now at its maximum.
“I wish for your plan’s success, Sir Desmond.” The Ambassador prrayed. Desmond replied with a simple nod, also hoping against hope that they would capture the Sceptile successfully.
Before, his yellow eyes gleamed with glee at just how well his sneak attack went. Not only did his fog strike terror into the hearts of these unwashed fools in that mob of fools, but it also perfectly blinded those pitiful brats: All thanks to his Natural Gift (and talent, if he did say so himself). He didn’t really think that much about not hitting the Ambassador, but one of her guardians instead, the Medicham girl in particular. Good, the brat deserved what they got for getting in the way of his mission.
But now, after they had hidden themselves in some bizarre ebony dome that appeared swiftly, seemingly from nowhere, they had yet to make a move. He was starting to get impatient, enraged even think she would be able to hide from him. She would have no safe haven, no quarter for her to cower and delay the inevitable; he would have her as his quarry, a fool girl Ambassador’s head to have as his trophy, marking him as supreme amongst all shinobi in-
With a yelp of pain, the Sceptile’s inner diatribe was interrupted as he was knocked off his perch on the rooftop by a burst of flame. He rolled off the rooftop and barely managed to land on his feet into an alleyway, his eyes fluttering about to find what hit him. Out of the fog he conjured came other plumes of fire, one after the other like rapid-fire causing him to leap back and forth comically to avoid being hit. Cursing under his breath, the Sceptile raced away down the alley, looking behind him to see that three of the Hunters, the Combusken, Misdreavus, and Furfrou, were hot on his heels. He knew that the ground was their domain; they thought that they could get him into a ground battle and dominate him, so he smirked internally, believing to himself that he had seen right through their plan. Stopping suddenly, he leapt up into the air and landed onto the rooftops, dropping small Cherri Berries behind him to act as cover. Claire saw right through this, and conjured up several shadowy claws from her Shadow Sneak to knock aside the berries, causing them blow up uselessly at their sides.
Now on the rooftops of the alley, the Sceptile growled at Claire for deflecting his attack and continued to race onwards, seething greatly with hatred. That worthless little ghost, he thought. A pain in my side just like that Ambassador, but I have just the thing to fix her. The Sceptile looked within the tool belt on his harness, his mouth curling up into a cruel smirk as he pulled out a berry with a bizarre appearance: the Maranga Berry, which possessed a brown, furry hide with one stem at one end and a three-pronged star shaped stem at the other. Picking that berry out from his belt along with multiple, spiny Colbur berries; he skidded to a stop and tossed the berries at high speed, the Colbur berries bursting in the air first to blind all three of his pursuers. Distracted by the blast, the Misdrevus never knew what hit her; from beyond the smoke, he heard a blast followed by a deafening scream of pain. He dropped from the rooftop down onto the floor below, and once the smoke finally cleared, all he saw was the look of shock on the faces of the Combusken and Furfrou. He saw no sign of the Misdreavus whatsoever-something that most would find suspicious and an indicator that something was afoot-but, now more than drunk on the possibility that he not just killed her, but erased her from existence.
Starting from a slow chuckle, the ninja’s laughter became more and more maniacal, forcing his whole body to shake with terrifying glee. “You see, you worthless brats?! This is what happens when you trifle with a true Iapon shinobi! I, however can’t guarantee that your end will be as painless as-”
“Shut the hell up!” the Furfrou suddenly shouted. “Y-You just killed her and you’re just gloating about it!”
“She…was my partner,” the Combusken started through choked tears. “You’ll pay for what you’ve done!”
The Furfrou took this as his chance to launch his attack, charging up a ball of dark energy at his mouth and firing the resulting Dark Pulse at the Sceptile. The Sceptile braced for direct impact, only for the attack to strike the floor, creating a shockwave that stunned the ninja, allowing for the Furfrou to bum-rush him, his body covered with a light green energy. The Sceptile was completely caught off guard by the Furfrou’s Dark Pulse, and was only barely able to brace himself for the impact of his blow. Despite the pain, he still managed to reveal a conniving grin, his body being enveloped in a puff of smoke that once cleared, revealed a broom with a pail at the top of its handle.
“Wha, a substitute?!” the Furfrou exclaimed. He immediately turned his attention upward to where the Sceptile had reappeared, glowing red vines streaming out from his arms. The Sceptile smiled madly with glee, seeing his chance to sap the hound dry with his Giga Drain, but his visage faded when he saw a similar mad smile on the Furfrou’s face. In an instant, the Furfrou vanished in a flash of light; in his place was the Combusken, and that was when it dawned upon the Sceptile.
“T-That t-tackle,” he stammered. “I-I-It was U-Turn!” The Sceptile was far too shocked to act first, allowing the Combusken time to kick a plume of flame right past him that exploded into the air above. He was even more distracted by how sudden the flame burst apart, giving him no time to notice that the Combusken had already primed a Dark Pulse in his hands, his eye glowing being the tell-tale sign of him having copied the Furfrou’s move. Now completely caught off guard, the Sceptile took the full force of the Dark Pulse to his chest, the wind knocked right out of him and his body flung towards a nearby wall.
The Sceptile’s mind raced as dozens of thoughts trying to formulate plans or, at the very least, get his body to move. Neither occurred, and he was merely limp in the air, nearly ready to accept his fate. That is, however, until he felt a slight twitch in his arm, a twitch that offered him hopes of a counterattack. If I can move just a little more of body before it’s too late! He thought as he struggled to move his body still unresponsive. Before he flew right into the wall, he felt something pierce both his arms and legs, slamming him into the wall with great force. Now able to move his head, the Sceptile realized that what stabbed him were two pairs of shadowy claws, with another set appearing from behind him to bind together his legs and further pin down his arms.
The Sceptile flailed about wildly against his bindings, before cursing out at the Combusken with “You rotten worm! What kind of trick did you pull?!”
The Combusken merely chuckled, now confident that he had his prey right were he wanted him. “My trick? I think you’d be better off asking ‘her’ that.” He stepped to the side to unveil what was behind him: the Misdreavus girl, who was ‘alive’ and well, her scarlet eyes glowing brightly as she concentrated her power on keeping him bound with her Shadow Sneak. All the color seemed to drain from his body, the Sceptile’s once vibrant emerald body and sharp, yellow eyes now horrifically pale. Was he well and truly defeated? Was he, a ninja, one of Iapon’s strongest warriors doomed to be bested by children from this fool city? Thoughts of the punishment that ‘he’ had promised for his failure ran circles throughout his mind, their hypothetical motion causing his body to truly shake and quiver.
“H-H-How…” the Sceptile shakily muttered. “I k-killed y-you…”
“I saw right through your little trick when you launched the first two berries,” the Misdreavus answered. “All it took was for me to disappear for little while and give off a scream to have you right where we needed you.”
The Sceptile froze entirely at her last words. ‘Right where we needed you’? The Sceptile’s body suddenly started to jerk with an endless stream of mad cackling, his head moving unnaturally with each gasp and chortle. “You, have me?! Don’t make me laugh! Your childish trick only serves to insult me, an Iapon shinobi, master of stealth, lord of decept-” His rant was cut short from the impact of what felt like glass against his body, leaving some sort liquid all over his body. Just as he was about to yell, asking for what was it that hit him, a boisterous voice came just from his side.
“Heh, glad I can make it in time for the party!” the new Hunter, a Vulpix with only one tail bizarrely, proclaimed.
“Hope you won’t make it a habit to show up so fashionably late.” Desmond joked.
“Just what swill did you get, anyway?” Vincenzo asked.
“Basic brandy,” Micheal replied. “It’s the only thing I could get in such a short time.”
B-Brandy…! The smell hit the Sceptile’s nostrils with the force of a freight train, finally knocking all of the bravado out of him.
“You heard right,” Desmond remarked coldly, creating a ball of fire within his claws. “I don’t need to tell you what happens when it gets close to fire.”
“P-P-Please spare me…” the Sceptile begged, his mind blank from terror.
“I have no interest in killing you (besides, it would be a waste of my time),” the Combusken claimed. “In fact, we guarantee that you won’t be hurt further, just so long as you answer one simple question, and no tricks. Just where are the Riolu and the Greninja?”
“I-I don’t know,” the Sceptile stammered. “That irritating toad is always running off and not telling me anything, so I have no idea where he’s hiding. And that mutt is completely worthless! Cowering, running from combat, he even found little friends to gallivant around with-”
“Wait a minute,” Claire interjected. “Little friends? Who are they?”
The Sceptile smiled nervously before answering. “While, I mean, I didn’t really get a good look at them, they just seemed like local neighbor hood children, hehehe.”
“Really now, you don’t think you remember anything else?” Desmond asked with sterner look.
“Err, well I do remember two of them; one was a Scraggy, who had quite a silly looking cap, the other was a Cubone, but his helm had a jaw still attached to it.” The Sceptile answered.
Claire gasped taken aback by the Sceptile’s answer. “I know who those are!” she exclaimed. “Those are Sundance’s friends!”
“What?!” Micheal asked, astonished. “Why would they be hanging out with him?”
“Don’t tell me those kids are hidin’ him?” Vincenzo sighed.
“There’s no way they couldn’t know, especially given all of the news and buzz about him and the other two.” Desmond reasoned. “Geez, now things have just gotten harder.”
The Sceptile started to fidget a little more, growing frightened and impatient. “There, now unless you have anymore questions, let me go! You promised not to hurt me!”
“Don’t worry, we won’t.” Michael started with a chuckle, then turning to Desmond. “So, Des, I know have that Mimic move, so how about we team up to put this guy out?”
Desmond immediately understood what the Vulpix was talking about. “Alright, I get it; Claire, Vin, you might wanna look away.” Both Claire and Vincenzo nodded and looked away, allowing Michael to start his attack, turning over to the Sceptile. Bright, psychedelic light streamed out from his body, which Desmond witnessed with his eye glowing. With Michael’s Hypnosis scanned, Desmond turned to the Sceptile and repeated the same attack. The Sceptile tried desperately to resist being put to sleep, but ultimately lost consciousness, his head slumping over and his body going limp. Once both of the Fire types ended their attacks, Claire pulled down the Sceptile and wrapped him up in a cocoon of her shadowy claws.
“At least we finished this guy up.” Vincenzo commented with a pained sigh.
“But now we have to worry about the other two ninjas,” Desmond started. “The Riolu we have a chance of finding, at least, but the Greninja he gave us no leads on.”
“Are ya’ sure that he wasn’t lying about that frog?” Michael asked.
Claire shook her head. “No, he really doesn’t know. I was being careful to sense whether or not he was lying, and he was telling the truth on both accounts.”
“Sensing others emotions can be a great help,” Desmond complimented. “But whatever we plan on doing, we need to go back to the Ambassador. I just hope their safe, the last thing we need is for that Greninja to attack the others.”
“Then he’ll give me a reason to burn him to a crisp!” Michael proclaimed angrily. “I would never let him hurt Sharity!”
“At least save some of him for me,” Vincenzo retorted. “Remember that my partner is their; there’ll be hell to pay if he hurts Fi.”
“I’m sure ‘Fi’ can handle herself,” Desmond remarked awkwardly, ‘Fi’ being what he used to call Felicity. “But, either way, we should probably get rid of this guy. Since the cops are looking for him, they can deal with him for now.”
“I can drop him off, you guys go on ahead to the Ambassador,” Claire stated. “I’ll be quick, so don’t worry.” The four nodded to each other in agreement, and then split off to their respective roles.
“Those damn, dirty foreigners!” the Gurdurr angrily huffed as he pushed himself up and down from the ground. “That rotten ice skank thinks she can drag her ‘ninjas’ here with her and expects us to give her the five star treatment. What a load of bull!”
The Gliscor sighed heavily, realizing that he had to suffer through one of his partner’s angry diatribes. Now that they were back at the precinct, the Gurdurr tried to quell his anger through exercise; but it never worked, only serving to make him more aggressive and ready to take it out on plenty an unfortunate witness or suspect. The Gliscor detested such a temperament, as all it did was add quelling his partner’s major malfunctions to his already heavy workload.
“And those stupid brats, too! Thinking that their so high and mighty cause those damn Hunters gave ‘em a tit to suck on! Grr… Once I get my hands on that chicken and on that talking head-”
“Sir! Sir! Sir!” shouted an Aipom as he nearly tripped over himself as he ran over to the two, panting and breathing heavily.
“Whaddya want, runt?!” the Gurdurr snapped back.
“One… of those… ninja guys… he’s at the front door!” the Aipom answered, still catching his breath.
“Wha-Oof!” the Gurdurr attempted to rise from another push-up, only to flop onto the tile with a thud. As his partner gathered himself from the floor, the Gliscor raced over to the entrance of the precinct. He looked down to see a Sceptile, bound, gagged, and unconscious, with a note placed on his chest with quite neat hand-writing. Picking up the note, the Gliscor quickly scanned what was on it:
Dear Andaluust Police Department,
We Hunters have successfully captured one of the invading agents, this Sceptile that you see before you. Please be aware that the other two are still at large and will be captured as swiftly as possible. I hope they are treated properly in you care.
Signed, Claire Amsel
P.S. The Ambassador is being treated with the utmost care and respect. She is having the most joyous time here in Andaluust!
The Gliscor stared at both the letter and the body for moment, before giving off a slight sigh of relief. Heh, I guess there’s a lot more to those kids than I thought.
Heaven For You: Part One
PMDUnity: Team Silvanati Written App.
Team Symphony Mission 2 Part 3
Shadowstep - M3: Part 4
Late like always hehe... There will be a part three released later where Sundance's mission will be completed, within the next day or two. Hopefully I can still get the reward for that, but for now I have finished the following tasks:
Hunter Task 1: Gather Support for Regiggias
1. Hunter Access Permissive: A card with cryptic markings on the back. You have no idea what it’s for just yet.
Hunter Task 2: Guide/Protect the Ambassador
1. Merit +1: Successfully protected from agent's (Sceptile) attack
2. Iaponese Paper Doll: A cute paper doll made by the Ambassador herself. It has a traditional feel to it, and she says it’s a lucky charm. Just don’t tear it, whatever you do. Inflicts Grudge on the attacker if destroyed.
Main Task: Capture the Agent (Sceptile)
1. Merit +1: Lured the Sceptile away from public area for capture
2. Evolution Slip: When a Pokemon evolves under service of a guild, standard protocol dictates that they sign one of these forms, for record-keeping purposes. This helps the guild keep track of who's who and arrange the appropriate honors. You may evolve one of your Pokemon at any time.
Team Heart Beat
Team Diamond Dogs
Team King Crimson belongs to me.
King Crimson Written Application: fav.me/d7s2pes
Everything is copyright © to their respective owners.