[attr="class","sunshine"]It's weird, being in the open air and feeling wind on her neck. It's not bad. Just weird. She can't remember the last time she had short hair. God she must have been . . . Doesn't matter. Now's not the time to be daydreaming. Right now she's got a job. It's been a while, and she can't afford to make any stupid mistakes.

Especially not now.

"This is gonna be quick and easy Thomas," she speaks to the Palpitoad toddling along beside her, he gives a low croak in answer, "just keep knockin' down Pikachu 'n' I'll keep pickin' 'em up. It's that simple."

Around the time she finishes instructing her pokemon she manages to make out a silhouette in the distance. A spike of anxiety runs through her, which sends a flush of irritation through her system right after it. What the fuck does she have to be jumpy about?

She throws up her hood to hide her mottled cheeks and smooths some hair over the healing bruise on her forehead anyway.

Thankfully, Plank's partner for the evening does a good job instantly disarming her. What the fuck is he going on about? She breathes air hard through her nose, lips twisting into the slightest of smiles.

"What? No, I'm here t' poach some Pikachu," she says plain as day, walking passed the young man and directing Thomas to get to work, "ya know ya can save the alibi for civvies 'n' the police, right?"

Meanwhile Thomas wastes no time waddling up within firing range of the Pikachu. Without any ceremony or flare he sucks in a breath and then pop pop pop fires off several MUD SHOT that whistle through the air before bursting and knocking Pikachu to their knees. He inhales again before letting out a croak that makes the air vibrate, a HYPER VOICE that knocks out several of the weakened Pikachu.

Plank pulls out a few of the pokeballs issued to her for the mission and tosses them casually into the lot of them.

[attr="class","sunshine"]Thomas watches the Pikachu disappear into pokeballs with little to no response. The Trapinch's gibbering is met with similar apathy. He croaks, a low and lazy sound, before getting back to the task at hand. As the Pikachu are sucked up by SAND TOMB he fires off a few more rounds of MUD SHOT that dirty their coats and leave them unconscious on the ground.

"I guess I get it," Plank replies to the man's explanation for his pointless lie in the meantime, "depends on the place though. I can't speak for whoever gave ya an earful before, but out in an open field like this with no one but us here . . . I just don't see the point of all the theatrics."

After a short stretch she reaches down to the pallet of pokeballs, pausing as she notices the beanie held out in the man's hand. Apparently offered to her. She raises an eyebrow before waving him off.

"Ah, thanks for the offer?" she says, the barest bit of confusion seeping into her tone, "but I'm all good with my hood."

Again, she adjusts her bangs and hood. Self-conscious that awareness of the injuries she was trying to hide prompted the gesture.

Her attention is pulled outward again by a few more urgent croaks from Thomas. Not panicked, but delivered with the obvious intent by the Palpitoad to get his trainer's attention. Plank shoots back up to standing, a few pokeballs in her hands, just in time to see one of the Pikachu's silhouettes glow and shift. Body becoming fatter, ears and tail longer.

"Good on ya for noticin' Thomas, but the plan is still just the same! Knock it down so we can round it up!"

[attr="class","sunshine"]"The others wouldn't make a damn bit of difference t' us, would they Thomas?" Plank calls across the field to her pokemon. He does not reply.

"Thanks for the assist, though, it'll help us finish things a bit faster," she continues, as if her pokemon hadn't left her high and dry, "No fancy shit! Drown it in mud!"

Plank's Palpitoad takes in a big breath of air. His cheeks bulge comically large and quiver they're so full. Thomas doesn't listen to small talk for shit, but he's good with orders. Good with directions. When he lets loose that breath of his it's filled with MUD SHOT after MUD SHOT that whistle through the air and home in on the Raichu.

But it's no sitting duck. Raichu's not caught off guard and there's no SAND TOMB holding it still so it moves. AGILITY strengthens its legs and increases its mobility. A couple of the MUD SHOTS land, and when they do they hurt, but not enough to keep it down. It starts closing in on the living mortar assailing it.

"T' be honest? I couldn't care less whether she was mean or not," Plank replies to the man as the action unfolds, "I just didn't want ya wastin' my time with double talk we don't need."

[attr="class","sunshine"]"I'm gonna keep bein' honest with ya," Plank replies to her partner's caution, lowering her voice and leaning closer in towards him, "If anyone comes sniffin' around, especially if they try t' stop us, I'm not gonna need a cover-story."

"When a Rattata shoves its face in a mousetrap, well . . . It doesn't go scamperin' off very often does it?" She straightens back up and shrugs. She thinks the implication behind her words is clear enough. If someone wants to stop what they're doing they're welcome to try, but it won't end well for them. Not if Plank has anything to say about it.

Without missing a beat she switches back to directing Thomas.

"It's closin' in on ya! Brace for impact!" she shouts to the Palpitoad and he takes a few hops back. It's not enough to shake the speedy Raichu, but it is enough to buy room for an AQUA RING. The Raichu finally gets in range for an IRON TAIL, but it doesn't hurt all that bad when it smacks against Thomas's rubbery flesh; and within moments the AQUA RING is cleaning up the scrape it left behind.

"Make it regret gettin' so close!" Plank continues to bark orders, and Thomas is quick to follow them. His cheeks swell again before he spits out a veritable shotgun blast of dark detritus. A point-blank MUD SHOT that blows the Raichu back and covers its limbs with sticky, debilitating sludge.

[attr="class","sunshine"]The Raichu starts to rise, hoping to mount some kind of counter-attack, but it's tired. The MUD SHOTS it took on its run-up compounded with the one it just took to the face have it feeling heavy. Its coat is caked with mud and the attacks have chipped away at its stamina -- leaving it a dirty, panting mess where it struggles just to stand.

"We don't play with our food Tom, knock it out before it can catch its breath!" Plank commands and Thomas obeys. He waddles up to the Raichu. The movement is less than graceful and far from fast, but the Raichu is in no shape to keep running around. All it can do is growl and send off weak sparks in warning. Neither deter its opponent.

Thomas is not prone to jumping away from harmless threat posturing.

One last MUD SHOT like an executioner's bullet lays the Raichu out. It still breathes, but this time its eyes stay shut. It does not move. A moment later it vanishes into a pokeball.

"Ready t' go when you are. Things are all done on my end," she says to Jonah simply, waiting for Thomas to carry the pokeball back to her. While she waits she shifts her attention to her partner's work. That Trapinch is pretty damn impressive. It's an unfortunate matchup for the Pikachu no matter what, but not every pokemon can work a crowd like this.

[attr="class","sunshine"]The gratefulness from her partner throws Plank a little bit. An awkward laugh bubbles up and she plays a bit with the drawstrings of her hoodie.

"Don't get all sappy now, a job's a job," she deflects, but she's smiling, "you're not half bad yourself, though. Was worried I'd be stuck with some brainless idiot. So thanks for not being that I guess."

Plank tosses the Raichu's pokeball into the pallet as the man gathers things up in preparation of leaving. Thomas waddles up to her, looking bored but something simmering under the surface. The way he runs right into her leg and settles his face against her bare skin lets her know he's tired and getting grumpy.

"Sounds good t' me," she replies, nodding along to Jonah's plan.