MARCH UPDATE

POSTED ON Dec 10, 2021 8:58:36 GMT

KING WAYLAND likes this

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Be wary of what lurks in the shadows, and be even more vigilant when the sun rose to expose the seedy underbelly of the beast. The lower district of Slateport city was not to be trifled with by any means. though she hadn't the frequent flyer miles, Mayday had heard her share of stories from those who came in and out of the city and knew well to keep an eye to the ground and her ears to the air. In truth, though, that made her all the giddier to be stationed here for what seemed to be a rather important mission.
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The black market had seen better days since the Galarian embargo, however, that wouldn't stop the intrepid bandits and smugglers from doing their due diligence and seeing to the safe travel of pokemon to and from Galar. Of course, with a business still operating under the radar, there was bound to be a few neigh-sayers that would stop at nothing to snuff the flame out completely. Uproot the business and toss it aside altogether. That, was where she came in. Well, she and another member of Rocket, she presumed. Their mission was simple: Eject the unwanted authorities and see to it that the resurgence continued steadily.
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Sounded pretty cut and dry. Though, to do so without bringing any unwanted attention to themselves, or reproaching onto the rocket name may pose a bit of a challenge. Alas, it was nothing a swift erasure of memory couldn't fix, no? "Hm," bright hues peered about the open area of various stalls and vendors. Nightfall had brought out the chilling winter breeze that carried the sea salt scent and assortment of lanterns to illuminate late-night shopping. Her big coat had been plucked from the back of the closet, but the weather wouldn't stop her from dawning a black skirt and tights. The thigh-high boots should help keep her warm. "Where is he?" So far no sign of her partner for the night. He'd have the passcode to relay, and no one had done so yet.

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KING WAYLAND

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shiv note: mission is ON THE DOWN LOW

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Wayland

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Twenty-Eight

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Vermillion City

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POSTED ON Dec 11, 2021 8:00:32 GMT

Mayday Markov likes this

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"where's who?" he steps out of the shadows of a nearby alley, nursing a cigarette with a bright cherry bud. a swampert treads after him, heavy footfalls, a lumbering form. half of it's face was marred, warped, and torn into a grotesque image. compliments of its near death experience with nina larson. it'd never win a beauty contest, but it was sure as fuck useful for intimidation.
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"ye lookin' for me?" flicking the end of the stick with his thumb, ashes fall and get taken by the wind. "this yer first job, kid? ye barely look like ye can wipe yer own ass." hello to you too.

[attr="class","ooc"]Mayday Markov[break]

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villanelle

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Olivine City, Johto

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POSTED ON Dec 11, 2021 8:14:32 GMT

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An unknown baritone beckons from the unknown, prompting Mayday to spin on her heels to face the source as out from the darkness, slinks a man of bright blue hair and... a face that suggests a ghastly close call of sorts. "Oh," though he hadn't greeted her with the phrase, this had to be the man she awaited. Call it women's intuition, or deductive reasoning; but Mayday highly doubted anyone else... in his condition, would avidly approach her. Especially having come lurking out of the shadows of a dark and dank alley space, no less.
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"I suppose so." There's a visible up and down given to the taller male. Her bright hues take in the stature and musculature of the trainer and then sift to his pokemon, the large and domineering Swmapert at his side. It's only after she has affirmed that he could potentially prove to not be a liability, that his words reach her ears. "And you seem the type to jump at the chance to wipe it if I needed help." Her retort is laced with a faux sweet venom, sealed with the facade of a curt smile before her visage shifts. "Hardly," she embellishes. "Did you have a run-in with a trash compactor on your way over?"
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Her index finger points to the obvious elephant in the alleyway, his face, and its mangled features.

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KING WAYLAND

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Wayland

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Vermillion City

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POSTED ON Dec 12, 2021 9:13:14 GMT

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he chuckles, husky and airy, as he he brings the cigarette back up to his lips. he speaks behind it, words muffled but still understandable. probably. "ye offerin'? i'm open ta new things."
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swampert grunts at her insult, lip twitching as a growl curls past them. "careful," he warns with a placid, uncaring tone, "bein' cute won't stop him from bashin' yer skull in. to that matter, neither will i." something dark flashes behind his storm blued hues, sighing as the cigarette drops to his hip again.
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"what's the plan, kid?"

[attr="class","ooc"]Mayday Markov[break]

[attr="class","pkspr pkmn-swampert"]

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villanelle

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POSTED ON Dec 12, 2021 9:33:10 GMT

GABRIEL BLACK likes this

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Bright hues maintain unsevered contact with the newcomer as he mumbles between the drag of his cigarette. A poison Mayday had decided long ago she would avoid but to each their own. Maybe, if she were highly favored, he would take care of himself and leave the brunt of the work to her after the stick of doom sends him to meet his maker. "Ah, so you're one of those types?" Wishful thinking, no doubt. "Noted. I'll be sure to think of you next time I need the help." Her quip is laced with the singsong venom as it's fired into the frigid air. Her arms fold across her chest as she turns her attention to his hulking poke-partner now.
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"Oh, I mean no harm~" she addresses the Swampert with a giggle, "your friend's face would still make for a great rocking chair. I'm in the market for one of those too. Since you're, what was it? Open to new things?" Mayday turns on her heels; pen, and paper scribbling against the mental note in her mind. The veil of darkness that coated his hues in his words hadn't gone unnoticed. Foreboding clouds rolled in, shrouding those stormy blues of his. A forecast of intrigue was rolling in. And she grins. There was something oh so appealing about dancing close to danger.
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But, her own curiosity and pleasure aside, there was a job to be done. "I figured a small stakeout would be enough." Not the most elaborate plan, but the task at hand didn't seem to cause for big-brain thinking. Nevertheless, "Watch and wait. And, assuming we don't have to get forceful," manicured nails tap the docked Pokeball attached to the belt loop of her hip. "A quick mind swipe should be all we need if we have unwanted guests." And with that, she motions for him to follow as the heels of her boots click against slickened concrete.
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"Come along, scarface. Our camp is this way."

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KING WAYLAND

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Wayland

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Vermillion City

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POSTED ON Dec 16, 2021 7:29:47 GMT

Mayday Markov likes this

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"guilty as charged," he grins, shrugging and flicking the still lit cigarette onto the street in one motion. he was a piece of shit. so what?
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the swampert growls even deeper, originating from the chest this time. "i'll tell ye what, sweetheart. give it a go - i won't intervene. see how well turnin' 'em into a chair goes for ye, hm?" a wink this time, less sarcastic, more amused. but her plan makes feasible sense; the only thing she's said that matters.
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"so ye want us ta wait for the league ta try somethin'? mm." reminded him of the days with sagira mosse. he wasn't opposed to it, but company had been better back then; preferred.
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"sure, let's do it."

[attr="class","ooc"]Mayday Markov[break]

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villanelle

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TAG WITH @mayday

POSTED ON Dec 17, 2021 17:34:22 GMT

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"I think you misunderstand," She snerks, still walking onward, "it was your face I was referring to. A seat for me, at the very least." Her explanation given, Mayday turns her head slightly, just to expose a toothy grin and low-lidded gaze before facing forward once more. Her arms folding across her chest once more as the heels of her boots clicked against the concrete. "I would never harm an innocent pokemon." Embellishing, once again. An innocent pokemon that didn't stand in her way, is much more accurate a confession.
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But, he doesn't need to know that.
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Unless of course, it swayed things to her advantage. "Up here," their makeshift hideout is an understated shack of sorts. An old merchant's building where he sold his wares until the tides of change caused him to relocate. "It's directly across from the point of interest. Four windows, we should be able to survey the area well." Augh, that means she would be stuck inside with him and the Swampert for quite some time. Oh, joy.
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Walking up to the front door, a key is inserted, twisted, and the door pushes open. "Have a look around," she prompts for the mangled visage to enter, "I'm sure it's reminiscent to the holes you've crawled out of in the past? You should feel right at home." Then she turns to the Swampert, "I apologize if it's not up to your standards, however." If he enters, Mayday follows after. Closing and locking the door behind her. "I've taken the liberty of bugging the entry point," index finger points to a radio station on a rickety table. "Saves us some time. But feel free to go over and get a closer view." She smiles. Sickeningly sweet, obviously deceptive.
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"I don't mind~"

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KING WAYLAND

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Wayland

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Twenty-Eight

March Twenty-First

Vermillion City

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POSTED ON Dec 20, 2021 23:15:04 GMT

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"oh," he says, sucking on a tooth as he mulls it over. it was a forward offer, if not a bit more sarcastic than he usually would've expected. still, "let's see how ye do 'fore i go makin' desert dates, ye?" when she sneaks a look back at him, he tosses a wink her way.
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he follows her inside, eyes roaming the new digs as he listens. this early and he'd already noted how much she liked to talk. perhaps when this was over, he could stuff it shut. hm.
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"not bad, bit taa clean ta be a hole i've crawled out from though," he finger ran against a desk, picking the dust up along with it. yeah, far too clean. his eyes then follow her reference to the entry point, and he gives her a blank look. "nah, think i'm good 'ere. sounds like ye got it all under control, ye?" he was feeling particularly lazy right now, so...
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"any bed here for me ta crash in 'er or somethin'?"

[attr="class","ooc"]Mayday Markov[break]

[attr="class","pkspr pkmn-swampert"]

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villanelle

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Twenty-Six

October 22nd

Olivine City, Johto

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POSTED ON Dec 22, 2021 0:34:33 GMT

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There were one too many words that floated about Mayday's mental space that she could use to describe this... man. It was unfortunate that each instance she wished to pull and verbalize one, three of them jumbled about and left her speechless. Though, if there was one thing she knew about men like this, is that they were at least good in the sack. She surmised it had something to do with being useless elsewhere and having to have at least one talent. That, or they were eager to prove themselves worth something more than a passing glance.
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Either way, he was a one-night stand for sure.
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"The floor," her index finger points to the dust-riddled flooring as her attention remains out the window. "There's a rug you can cuddle up with. Go nuts." Hm, nothing as of yet. However, there seemed to be three individuals loitering the entrance. Leaving the window, Mayday saunters over to the radio and twists a knob, prompting the bug she placed to pick up on the voices of the trio. "Yes, we're here to assist in the transporting... passcode? Of course, we know it." Mayday's hues squint, making her way back to the window, a maximized Pokeball now in tow.
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Perhaps she would get some action tonight after all? "Do you recall the passcode they gave you?" Maybe this guy was with the league, too? Could she make swift work of all four of them?

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KING WAYLAND

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Wayland

He/Him

Twenty-Eight

March Twenty-First

Vermillion City

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POSTED ON Dec 22, 2021 13:34:53 GMT

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the floor? he grumbles something beneath his breath, but settles with sitting with his back against the massive water-type. comfortable? sort-of. it was better than the rug, at least.
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"hm, was it cherry blossoms? or apple turnovers? somethin' like that. somethin' sweet." he hadn't really been paying attention then, and hell, barely even now. but if she thought that was a good enough excuse to strike first, well, that was an excitement he could look forward too.

[attr="class","ooc"]Mayday Markov[break]

[attr="class","pkspr pkmn-swampert"]

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villanelle

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Twenty-Six

October 22nd

Olivine City, Johto

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TAG WITH @mayday

POSTED ON Dec 22, 2021 14:28:53 GMT

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As much as she wished for him to have been far off the mark, he was close enough. Shame. Her attention returns to the trio and an ear to the radio. "It's something salty." From her pokeball, Gardevoir appears in a flash of light. "We're heading out," she speaks towards the man on the floor, wasting no time in waiting for him before leaving the shanty with Gardevoir following close behind her.
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With each click of her bots against the slick concrete, Mayday examines the scene for any signs of potential ambush. Nothing of interest is to note, so it's truly just the trio. "Hi there~" she greets the guard and three men with an energetic wave, "Sorry to interrupt, but I was just wondering if any of you knew where I could find something sweet to munch on?" The guard at the door looks to the pinkette with recognition and sports a sinister grin.
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"I'm in a bit of a rush," two of her fingers tap against the side of her head. Gardevoir catches the signal and its eyes light up a bright blue, encapsulating the trio in an aura of matching hue. In a matter of seconds, the undercover league member's eyes would match the color of the aura and they would fall to the ground with small groans and the rubbing of their heads. "Ugh... wh-what happened? What were we doing here?"
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Mayday extends an arm outward to the leader of them. "Slick streets, you stumbled into your friends and you all took quite the tumble. I think I heard you say something about finding food?"

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KING WAYLAND

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Wayland

He/Him

Twenty-Eight

March Twenty-First

Vermillion City

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POSTED ON Dec 22, 2021 14:34:08 GMT

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a grunt, then a sigh, then another grunt, and he follows. king leaves the swampert back at the flat, content to not have a lumbering giant following him. it screamed the wrong message. or, the right one, but in the wrong area.
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like a good man, he lets her take the lead. part of it was curiosity, the other, was pure laziness. he looks past her, and onto the daze individuals.
[break][break]
"ye gon' kill them or somethin'? if so, do i need ta be 'ere fer that?" he yawns, as if to accentuate a point.

[attr="class","ooc"]Mayday Markov[break]

[attr="class","pkspr pkmn-swampert"]

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villanelle

Feminine

Twenty-Six

October 22nd

Olivine City, Johto

Bisexual

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POSTED ON Dec 22, 2021 14:43:09 GMT

[nospaces]

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Amd there he goes, with the spatial awareness of a Psyduck and the common sense to match, he blurts out his inner thoughts without a filter to be seen. Instinctively, Mayday attempts to silence the man behind her by thrusting her elbow back and hopefully into his gut. "Pardon him," she starts, "he's an idiot." Gardevoir even gives the blue-haired man a hooded stare. "Anyway, I'm also heading to grab something to eat myself. We can go together." Finally she helps the trio up and motions for them to follow. "You," she looks to her partner, "stay here with Gardevoir." Ingrate.
[break][break]
Mayday leads the trio away from the point of interest, her digits tumbling about a mechanism in her pocket before bringing a metal mask to her face and fastening it there. They round a corner, and she drops an ornate egg onto the ground, instantly releasing a plume of purple smog into the air. "Wh-what the hell—" soon, a cacophony of coughs and hacks ensue from the trio before they fall onto their knees. Each one gripping at their throats before their foreheads finds themselves colliding with frosted cobblestone. Lifeless, their bodies.
[break][break]
With a huff, Mayday returns from the corner after retrieving the device and playing it back in her pocket. "You moron," she's already berating the other upon her return, "suppose they heard you? What were you going to d—" she stops herself, another sigh leaving her lips. "Never mind. You can handle the clean-up." With her palms in her pockets she brushes a shoulder against the blue-haired menace and makes her way back to the small shanty. Gardevoir, returning to her Pokeball.

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KING WAYLAND

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Wayland

He/Him

Twenty-Eight

March Twenty-First

Vermillion City

Heterosexual

League Turncoat

247 height

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