ROCKET BATTLE LOG

[indigo_league]

As the clock nears 10 PM on Saturday, the manor (or the parts of it that people aren’t blocked off from, anyway) is completely abuzz with speculation and gossip. What could Lance possibly be planning to announce? And why haven’t any of the Elite Four even been around? They’re fairly reclusive, but it’s safe to say that everyone is at least a little curious, if not actively suspicious.

But it’s time for the big reveal, so manor staff are bustling around, reminding everybody to be in the ballroom in a few minutes for Lance’s important unveiling of… well, whatever it is he’s unveiling! The staff all seem pretty excited, so it must be big, right?

There’s been plenty of room to dance and move around in the Ballroom until now, but with everybody packed in there at once, the space is a little tighter. Especially with the small stage and podium set up in the middle. As the last (or seemingly last, assuming there aren’t any carefree stragglers who didn’t bother turning up on time) person is ushered in by staff, complete with whispers of "Psst! Hurry up, it’s almost time!", the door to the ballroom is shut and the lights dim slightly, sending a hush over the audience.

After some fumbling from whoever’s in charge of the lights (... wait, is that Captain Garfield and his Rattata up there? He’s a theater tech too?! That guy must REALLY be a jack of all trades!), a spotlight flips on and centers on the podium, where the head staffer (who might be recognized as the one with the terrible hipster mustache who’s been doing a PARTICULARLY egregious amount of schmoozing and sucking-up to trainers over the course of the party) is stepping up to the podium.

He clears his throat.

"Welcome, welcome, ladies and gentlemen! On behalf of the Elite Four, we’re all so happy you could join us! We hope you’ve all been having as good a time as we have, because I’ve got to say, I think this is our best party yet!"

He looks around at the assembled trainers eagerly, as though anticipating unanimous agreement.

When there’s an impatient buzz (and a shout of "Get on with it already!" from someone) instead, he laughs awkwardly.

"Oh, yes, well, we’re all here for one reason, right? To see what Lance has brought you all here for! Well, folks, as you can see, he’s not here with us right now… He’s had a bit of a-- how shall we say… an accident! So sad, I know! But fortunately, he’s graciously allowing us to make his announcement for him. Which is…"

On cue, the spotlight turns stark red. If anyone has the presence of mind to look, Captain Garfield's Rattata is holding a bit of red plastic filter in front of it.

But chances are, everyone’s attention is probably going to stay on the stage, because the guy at the podium literally just RIPPED HIS CLOTHING OFF DRAMATICALLY, revealing… yes… a very, very familiar black-and-red uniform underneath.

It’s followed immediately by more ripping sounds as other staff and even some partygoers scattered throughout the audience follow his lead, and the telltale noises and flashing of Pokemon being released from their balls. And many voices, all yelling at once...

"PREPARE FOR TROUBLE! AND MAKE IT DOUBLE!!"

The music shifts.

OOC Notes: The number of characters who must participate in the battle to call it a success is 37! In order to keep track, once you have made your first comment to this post (either a toplevel or a tag to someone else!), please bring it to the CHECK IN THREAD by 10 PM EST tomorrow! YOUR COMMENT MUST BE POSTED TO THIS THREAD IN ORDER FOR IT TO COUNT TOWARDS THE TOTAL.

GUESS WHAT GUYS?

glittertextmaker.info

OOC notes: Here it is, the part where your characters get to explore the Rocket Base and discover its secrets! Maps of each level will be posted in this top post as they are opened up, with blacked out sections being revealed as obstacles are cleared. Obstacle clearing will be based on total comment count to any mod comment with a count listed, whether those comments are contained in a single thread or spread out over multiple different ones. As many people can comment to an obstacle or base level as wish to, for as long as they want, even after it has been cleared. There are a total of two obstacles (including the first one) which are triggered by character actions we will be watching for!

Anyone who wants to thread anything out in the base or mansion during the time characters are trapped (and who doesn't want to use this log for whatever reason) is free to make their own network/action posts with whatever they like! But mods will not be coming around to those with interaction, and they will not count towards clearing obstacles.

Questions? Ask them HERE!

NOTE FOR ITEM RNG: In order for the mods to give out your item, your character must be actively looking through the loot piles in whatever tag you'd like us to respond to with your item! Items can also be given out in the middle of an existing thread between characters, whenever they get around to searching the piles! The header does not have to be in your toplevel.

Links List

Level One



OBSTACLE - KEY CARD (CLEARED)

OBSTACLE - CONVEYOR BELT HELL (CLEARED)

Level Two



Level Three



ELITE 4 JAIL

OBSTACLE - FREE THE LEGENDARY

Comments

ME ME I'M ANYONE ELSE

[meteorman]

[This isn't much different from when Goldenrod was overrun by Team Skull grunts, all-told, and while unexpected it doesn't worry Ford much. He can deal with criminals. He's dealt with demons and inter-dimensional bounty-hunters and demonic inter-dimensional bounty-hunters. It's fine. Some ekans and poochyenas are not going to concern him too much.

That is until a grunt manages to grab the Pokeball in which he keeps the Zoroark that Dipper gave him. They probably saw her earlier and thought a shiny female Zoroark was one of the best prizes they could obtain here, and they might be right, but that was a gift from his nephew. His nephew who's gone. Who he might never see again.]

GET BACK HERE!

[The grunt does not get back there. The grunt ducks away through the crowd, and Ford bumps past Armin as he follows with a single-minded intent to break every bone he owns and then possibly more after that. His Dartrix flaps after him.]

[schachmeister]

[Armin hears Ford before he sees him, and it is very obviously Ford is pursuing someone as he pushes past him. Armin doesn't have to think about why --honestly, they are besieged by Team Rocket, it's pretty obvious why Ford might be chasing that grunt-- before he springs into action, gesturing slightly at the dragalge besides him.]

Juniper!

[She doesn't need more words than that, his clever dragon does. They've been into situations like this before. She darts forwards with a push of her fins --it would be even more amazing to behold this in the water-- opening her mouth to spew out a thick, inky black screen of smoke, intent on confusing the grunt.]

Magellan, stop him.

[The incineroar shoots forward, on all fours as he launches himself into the dark smoke with his whiskers twitching. All the chaos has him hyped up, a quality carefully honed under uncle Blitz's tutelage. And now that he has been unleashed, ah, well...

He gets to the grunt first, towering over him. But his trainer's commands had been to just stop him, so the grunt is lucky. For now. In as much as getting plucked up by the back of his shirt by the huge fangs of a towering incineroar is lucky. Magellan's tail flicks in a self-assured way, pleased with his catch, as he starts trotting back to Armin, the flailing grunt held up by the scruff in the same way a mother incineroar might carry her littens. He only gets two steps in before he runs into Ford. His whiskers twitch uncertainly. He has never met this man before, but he has seen his trainer talk to him on the little box that is not for playing. Was he supposed to catch this man instead of the one he has now?

Magellan lets out a full-mouthed mrowl, before solving the issue by simply sweeping Ford up into his muscular furred arms --kicking and screaming if he has to!-- and carrying him out of the smoke and back to Armin. His trainer will solve this. And maybe give him treats for being such an excellent hunter.]

[meteorman]

[Stanford Pines has dealt with a lot of strange situations in his life. He has still never yet found himself being princess-carried by a large wrestler cat, and the simple realization that that is what's happening shocks him out of fighting back. What on earth --

Oh. Armin.]

Could you. Ah. Ask him to put me down?

[Something tells him that while he probably could struggle out of the Incineroar's arms, it will be a lot easier for him if it puts him down willingly.]

[schachmeister]

[Oh dear. Armin hadn't quite meant for Magellan to do that to Mr Pines. Though he can understand how Ford must feel, carried aloft in Magellan's furry muscular arms. It's An Experience, and it's one he's had a few times too many since Magellan evolved.]

Ah, no, Magellan! Put him down. Gently please.

[Magellan's whiskers twitch, and he slowly starts to lower both Ford and the captured grunt to the ground.]

No, just Mr Pines. You can keep the other one.

[Magellan purrs at that, pleased that he is allowed to keep one of his prey, and swiftly puts Ford down the rest of the way, scruffing one of his large paws over the top of his head for a moment. There you go, old-smelling man. He is a Good Cat, isn't he?]

I'm sorry. He's started to do that ever since he evolved. I hope he didn't hurt you.

[Please tell him it was just your pride as a man that was injured today.]

[meteorman]

[At least Magellan's big ol' paw can't make Ford's hair any messier than it already is. Really it just ups the fluffiness a little. He doesn't bother fixing his hair but he does brush down and straighten his suit a bit.]

Oh, no! I'm just fine.

[He's very sturdy. He could probably take Magellan in a fight, he thinks, if it came down to it. Not that he really wants to find out how he'd hold up against the fire powers and all, but it wouldn't be the first time he's been on fire. He regularly sets himself on fire.]

I suppose after being quadrupedal for most of his life, having arms and thumbs is novel.

[Ford this is not the point right now. He turns to regard Magellan and, more importantly, the grunt he's carrying.]

Now. I would like you to give that ball back.

[schachmeister]

[Magellan helpfully starts to growl. If Ford isn't enough to intimidate this grunt, maybe the giant incineroar growling near the back of his neck, giant teeth close to vulnerable flesh and the hints of fire on his breath will do the trick.]

Did he take one of your pokemon?

[Armin's voice is a little sharp. That's... that's just low.]

[meteorman]

He did. The Zoroark that my nephew left me.

[The grunt looks about as defensive as someone can while dangling a good couple of feet off the floor. He gets a couple of syllables into invoking the ancient rule of Finders, Keepers before something cuts him off. It isn't Magellan burning all the hair off the back of his neck (though that wouldn't be unwelcome) and it isn't even Ford breaking every part of his face.

It's Mirkwood the Dartrix, who up until this point has been hopping around his trainer's ankles in a high state of agitation and utterly failing to get anyone's attention. Now he hops up between Ford and the grunt, wings pumping to keep him in the air, and starts in on what can only be described as a brutal verbal beat-down. Just, y'know, all in unintelligible Pokemon sounds.

"What the heck -- hey -- ow!"]

Mirkwood--?

[The Dartrix scrabbles at the grunt's clothing with its little owl feet until something tears. A Pokeball clatters to the ground, freed from an internal pocket. Ford stoops to pick it up.]

[schachmeister]

Is that the one he took from you?

[Armin marks his own pokeballs with a small A.A. near the catch. Hanging around in a mess of teenage boys means things are often displaced, tossed around or swept together. Especially when Casey starts on her ball hoarding again and pushes everybody's pokeballs together in a neat pile for her to nest on. At least this way he's always able to pick his own pokeballs out of the mess without having to release the pokemon inside to check.]

Though we should probably check him and make sure he didn't take any one else's pokemon.

[meteorman]

[See? This is why they get along so well. Ford, because he's an Extra piece of shit, marks all his Pokeballs not with his initials but with the same six-fingered hand he used as the cover for his journals. This ball is the only one that's different: this one is a pine tree, for Dipper, because this is a Pokemon that Dipper entrusted to his care.]

Yes. This is the right one.

[Mirkwood settles down once Ford confirms. It's good. It's fine. He's cool. He clicks his beak fussily but he's not full-blown shrieking anymore. Ford absently ruffles his feathers in praise and he doesn't bother putting them straight again.]

Do you think we ought to give him a chance to turn out his pockets willingly?

[Ford has a sneaking suspicion that the longer Magellan is there being huge and intimidating the easier it will be to convince their grunt friend to surrender without having to break his nose too much.

Even if that would be satisfying.]

[schachmeister]

[Armin isn't really artistic enough to think of a symbol for himself. The only symbol he can sort of associate himself with is the wings of freedom, but that is hardly his personal symbol. All of them fight under that banner.]

I feel... he's already been given that chance. I'd rather not give any of allies the possibility to intervene.

[Armin doesn't know how these people are organised. It almost seems a strange free for all, but he won't gamble on that. They might be more organised than it seems on first glance, and giving them a chance to get the jump on them is not something Armin fancies.]

Magellan, restrain his hands, please.

[meteorman]

[Maybe some time they can brainstorm one. That's a totally normal way to pass an afternoon, right? Deciding on a personal sigil? Totally.]

I'll keep an eye out for more of them. They have a nasty habit of sneaking up from behind.

[And he figures Armin will be a little busy checking through all the pockets this jerk no doubt has for hiding illicit goods. That's how Ford would do it. Just twenty concealed pockets. Right? Right.]

Keep an eye out, Mirkwood. Sucker Punch anyone who gets too close.

[Mirkwood makes a soft sound of agreement. He puffs his chest a little, and then it just keeps puffing, and his form begins to glow and shift in a way Ford is very familiar with by now. He doesn't stop growing until he's over twice his original height and quite a bit lankier.]

... Remind me to ask you later what you were waiting so long for. Armin? How are things going over there?

[schachmeister]

[Armin would be quite disappointed if he were to find out Ford's coat isn't in fact made up of twenty concealed pockets.

Armin steps in, fending off a knee with a block from his arm -- he went through all the same hand-to-hand combat drills as the rest of them. He might pale compared to Eren or Mikasa, but he is not completely useless -- as he starts to systematically pat down the grunt's clothing, inch by inch. He extracts a few pokeballs, some potions, a wallet, before the grunt's pockets stop giving up items.

He glances up at Ford's question, showing the collection of items.]

I suppose there is no way of knowing if these pokeballs belong to him or if they were stolen, but I think we can worry about that at the end of the night.

[He flips open the wallet, perusing it, ignoring the grunt's protest.]

There's an ID and trainer card. I feel I should say I'm surprised by the stupidity of carrying those into something like this but...

[Yeah. Not really that surprised, honestly.]

What should we do? Even without pokemon, we can't let him go free now.

[meteorman]

[Ford taps his chin thoughtfully and then snaps his fingers.]

I have it.

[He unbuckles his belt. He doesn't have any Pokemon that can use String Shot or anything of that sort, but he doesn't need them when he's got good old-fashioned leather.]

We'll hog-tie him. Leave him for the Jennies.

[schachmeister]

[Gramps, if your pants are gonna fall down without a belt, you can just deal with that on your own, okay?]

All right. I'll keep this [he raises the wallet for a moment] and the pokeballs and hand it to them later. They should be able to find the true owners

[Can't leave these out of his sight. He has a feeling they might somehow disappear. Mysteriously.

While Ford ties up the grunt with Magellan's help, Armin makes quick work of dividing the potions between himself and Ford, slipping his share into his pocket. It's not stealing. It's obvious that there will be more battles to fight this night, and to leave an advantage like this behind is simply stupid. Really. It is the sensible approach.

When Ford is finished trussing up the grunt like a christmas turkey, Armin steps up besides him, holding out his share of the potions.]

You should take these. It looks like we might need them tonight.

i'd say this is about wrapped :0

[meteorman]

[His pants are not in any danger. Unlike some old men (like his brother), his legs haven't gone skinny and sad. He takes better care of himself than that.]

I have a feeling that you're right. None of these hooligans are all that much of a threat but there's a surprisingly large number of them. [He nudges the grunt with the toe of his boot. He's talking about you, ya mook.]