Other than 'Not Rocket', Klaus had paid little attention to his briefing on where he was stealing from. This wasn't his normal sort of smuggling job by any means, but the promised pay and frankly embarrassing security system of the place meant this should have been a quick in-and-out operation. Bolt cutter the back doors locked with chains, find the smuggled Galarian Slowbro in the back room past some overly-ornate doors, leave the way he came in.
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Easy, right?
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So far the operation was going off without a hitch - even the weather was cooperating, the light pitter-patter of rain heralding a coming storm that would do wonders for covering his tracks, both literally and metaphorically. Watching the security amble about with hardly any prescience of Klaus's presence, he slips from darkened hallway to shadowed corner. What idiot had designed this place, really? It's a matter of moments before he's in what is easily confirmed to be the right room where myriad Galarian Slowbro amble about.
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Flashing a winning smile, Klaus greets them with a low, "Alright kids. Quick and easy," his hand slipping into his pack to produce a handful of pokeballs. Keeping an ear out for any wandering gang members, the Slowbro are collected one after the other until naught remain to roam the floor, and then stuffed dutifully back into his pack.
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Klaus pauses at the doorway to listen, ensuring the hallway beyond is silent before he slips out. Just a couple hundred metres between him and walking out scott-free with the Yamanaka none the wiser to his presence. So really, it's rather fitting that when he slows due to the sound of voices, that his phone blips loudly during a tense lull in the conversation. Fucking Gurdrr? Really? Hadn't he silenced his phone before coming in?
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Apparently not.
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He freezes automatically, brow furrowed and face immediately pale. Fumbling for his phone from his back pocket, the sound of the nearby door Klaus stands besides slowly creaks opened, revealing an equally confused Botan on the other side. Horrified to say the least, a strained, "Hey baby?" spills from Klaus's lips before his brain catches up to him - his gaze slips past Botan to settle on the back of Yoshiro's head and a mess out trouble standing before the woman.
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What in the hell was that cop from his speed date doing here too?
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Fuck.
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Klaus shifts to bolt down the hallway, only to be stopped by Botan's hand grabbing his arm firmly to drag him unwillingly into the room, the door slamming with finality behind him. "I thought this was the bathroom," he tries helplessly, a snort of amusement from some nearby thug silencing the young man immediately.



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+ yoshiro shioda

[attr="class","pokeclass"]

The fabric of the chair is scratchy, threadbare, cheap. The room is dimly lit, and the bottles of liquor that line the shelf behind the desk are dusty, ill-kept. It, despite the prominent place behind the elaborately-carved doors, does not appear that the Yamanaka are doing quite so well as they would like her to think. But that seems typical of Hoenn, thus far, in that Shioda Yoshiro has never felt quite so much like a Sharpedo in too small a pond as she does here, sitting in this dismal excuse for an office with Yamanaka Renzo.

Yamanaka Renzo, who does not seem to have an inkling of how far out of his depth he actually is yet, his sweaty hands braced upon his stained desk as he leans over it, elaborating loudly and in surprisingly graphic detail just exactly how she can fuck off. Yoshiro blinks slowly in response, her expression carefully even even as he concludes his tirade with: "This isn't Johto, bitch, and you aren't Shioda Hinat-"

"I would recommend, little brother," she interjects smoothly at that, appreciating for a moment how the hint of red in his countenance increases at her purposeful use of a lesser rank, climbing rapidly toward his hairline. "That you reconsider mention of my late father. But no, as you so eloquently put it - I am not Hinata. For one, I share very little of his-"

Ding.

Leniency. She was going to say leniency, as she slowly rose from her seat, sliding her untouched beverage back toward him atop the desk in a rebuke of ceremonial hospitality. But that was before the sudden sound of a Gurdrr notification chimed in the immediate vicinity, and she starts with, "Honestly, Botan? Now is the time?"

Are you seriously chasing di- " A flurry of motion, after which she and Yamanaka alike are left looking at...is it Kurtis? Kris? Klaus, she corrects mentally. What is he doing here?

"Well this is a surprise," comes a coy comment from Takiji.

"Who the fuck is this?" Renzo intones far more bluntly, gesturing toward the other man, who most certainly wasn't looking for the bathroom. Yoshiro wishes that she knew, blinks several times in rapid succession as she recalls the details of their previous encounter, the chief of which is embarrassment and the secondary of which is the faint, lingering needling of jealousy.

first date, is he cute y/n???

There is a part of Yoshiro that is very aware that she doesn't have any good reason to be jealous, especially considering that - No. Absolutely not. Now is not the time. Not the time at all. A hint of colour arisen to the shell of her ears nonetheless, she focuses her introspection on something other than Amber Lenoir , clearing her throat as she opts instead for damage control, asserting smoothly, "Junto. I asked you to wait in the car, didn't I?"

And then, as if to neatly put a pin in the Yamanaka discussion, slides her phone from a pocket to scroll down the screen several times, inspecting the lack of anything on it for several seconds before she intones, "Ah, I see. I had my phone on silent."

Just in time for her favorite model-slash-actress to call, and her phone to decidedly NOT be on silent.

Baby, can't you see I'm calling?
A guy like you should wear a warning
It's dangerous, I'm falling
There's no escape, I can't wait
I need a hit, baby, give me it
You're dangerous, I'm loving it

Is that Britney fucking Spearow? Who the fuck changed- If it were not such an inopportune moment, the way that the head of the Shioda crime syndicate turns to stare incredulously at her personal security would almost be comical. So would the way that Chiyo is currently trying not to laugh.

With a tight-lipped smile, Yoshiro taps out a quick 'at work, are you okay?' and slips her phone back into her pocket, asserting to the Yamanaka brothers, "We'll have to pick this up at a later date. Excuse me, gentlemen."

It seems for a moment that this will all dissipate into nothing, Chiyo and Botan - the latter albeit sheepishly - moving to usher klaus anchoret out of the room to safety, while Takiji exhales in an audible sound of relief as the tension seems to de-escalate.

Renzo however, appears to have a different idea after the unlikely series of events, at least if the clutch of pokeballs spinning to a stop at their feet are any indication. In the resultant flash of light, the older man ducks behind his desk to hit something, presumably a silent alarm.

When exactly did this spiral completely out of control, Yoshiro has just enough time to think before they come face to face with two Drowzee and a Hypno, the sound of booted feet already heard in the hallway outside.

klaus anchoret

☉