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POSTED ON Dec 3, 2022 17:44:54 GMT

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P.O.G Bank’s holiday ad campaign had been shot and edited months in advance, but there would be no telling as much when seeing the festive scenes that mark posters, pamphlets, and commercials. The images of adorable Meowth dressed as Santa’s little helpers adorn the halls of the Slateport branch (as well as those of every branch in Hoenn), and décor has been carefully arranged to both give a feeling of “holiday spirit” and maintain the elegance of the place.
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This holiday effect even reaches the offices.
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Hell, it can even be found at the corporate headquarters, where hundreds upon hundreds of gifts are being wrapped and prepared to be delivered to every single P.O.G Bank employee. It’s mostly company swag to go with their holiday bonuses, but great swag can be pretty damn cool to have, right?
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Even P.O.G Bank’s own CEO has a branded mug; the bank’s gilded logo being proudly displayed upon a black porcelain surface. It’s this mug that he holds as he descents from the mighty heights where his office can be found, taking the elevator down to middle management despite the curious and nervous looks some employees give him.
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The door to the conference room where the gifts are being kept is open and he does not knock, stepping in with the confidence of someone who owns the very floor upon which he walks… because he does, even if that’s something some people don’t yet know.
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”How are things looking?”
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Clad in a perfectly-tailored suit, Mars takes a calm sip of coffee while golden eyes inspect his surroundings. He even goes as far as taking a small piece of the fruitcake that had been left on the table. It’s not that great, but then again, fruitcake rarely is.

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[attr="class","tag"]john nelson

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▷ Trapinch Who Stole XMas
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Hope this works for you! Casually inserting today's Advent prompt....

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TAG WITH @john

POSTED ON Dec 4, 2022 3:40:17 GMT

Martín del Mar likes this

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Holidays? Kind of blow! That's John's take on the matter at least. It's the perspective he's had for a while, to be honest. For almost as long as he can remember. The list of things a tense household spoiled for him is far too long for him to bother keeping anymore, it's more than good enough to say that festivities are one of them.

That's not even the whole of it as an adult, however. Age has given him not experiences to soften that perception but instead only emboldened it. As his social circle shrank the opportunity for get togethers shrank with it and now that he's working management for a company, well . . . it's fair so many employees beg off but god is it ever a nightmare keeping the office staffed around any Big Day(tm).

And Christmas is the worst of them.

Especially since Christmas is the only one that requires he take time away from other responsibilities to prepare presents. At least now he's halfway decent at the task, the first couple years that he was part of management they eventually gave up and put him on 'tape duty '; his gifts had all come out wrapped like a drunken Zangoose had done them (an insult to MC, who he doubts would have struggled nearly as long as him -- claws or no).

(Double) at least there's snacks. The fruitcake made by someone in HR is solid, a rare accomplishment for the dish.

"Things are looking alright," is John's reply when his boss breezes in. He doesn't even look up to greet the man, too focused on trying to get this wrap job done just right.

"We're on pace to finish wrapping for the building by the end of tomorrow," he says when he's done, finally looking over his shoulder to take in del Mar, "The sweaters were a good touch for this year's haul, by the way. Real appropriate for the season and . . ."

He pauses as his eyes return to the pile of gifts (where his newly wrapped parcel is bound). Is it just him or . . . is it a bit smaller than when he last looked?

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Mars | Tuesday

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TAG WITH @mars

POSTED ON Dec 4, 2022 20:42:05 GMT

john nelson likes this

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Mars himself is not a big fan of Christmas either, but of course, that much is something most people would never guess. His attitude about the holiday is always excellent, and hell, after the social media success of the selfies luka chêne had asked him to take with her during last year’s holiday ad shoot, this year he even appears in some of them.
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Christmas is Mars’ least favourite holiday, but it does have its silver linings, and one of them is the presents. He has always loved choosing gifts for others, even for his employees. For the most part, he had chosen these, and so, hearing john nelson comment positively on them pleases him.
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”Right? They’re nice as far as Christmas sweaters go. I liked the pattern.” Meowth, of course. P.O.G Bank’s adorable mascots. Everything about the sweaters makes clear what they’re meant to promote, and they’ll sure look great all over every employee’s social media when they post their holiday pictures for the world to see. Ah, but they’re just nice gifts, aren’t they?
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Speaking of…
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Following John’s gaze towards the pile of gifts, Mars finds himself frowning just so slightly, seeming to have noticed what his employee did.
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”...Are you sure you’ll be done by tomorrow? It doesn’t look like there’s a lot of them right now. I can assign a few more people to help, if you need it.”

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TAG WITH @john

POSTED ON Dec 5, 2022 17:08:26 GMT

Martín del Mar likes this

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John doesn't reply immediately. Mostly because 'I don't know what the fuck is going on, I swear this pile was taller ' isn't a very constructive response to del Mar's question. Instead he gets up from where he's sitting to get a closer look at the gifts that remain.

The gifts they wrap have an order to them, despite all being the same thing. To make sure everyone gets their gifts the different managers have lists of their employees and they check them off one after another as they work through the load of pre-packaged boxes. John takes his sheet with him and lifts up a few gifts, double checking the names on them against it.

"Naw boss, we don't need the help," he mumbles, putting one down and turning over another, "I know it sounds ridiculous . . . but I think someone slipped in and swiped some of the gifts we've already wrapped."

John's rubbing his chin when he turns around -- expression too serious for him to be joking.

"Hey guys!" he calls to the room at large, earning the attention of a handful of eyes, "Did any of you move some gifts around?"

The question is met with confused murmurs and a lot of headshaking.

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Mars | Tuesday

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TAG WITH @mars

POSTED ON Dec 6, 2022 1:03:01 GMT

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There is a pen on the table, P.O.G Bank branded as most things in the office are. When Mars takes a seat, he takes the pen by simple instinct, spinning it around expertly with one hand while staring at the underwhelming pile of gifts. He does the mental maths. He clicks the pen; once, then twice.
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”You’re saying you think someone took some of the gifts?” It’s not particularly accusatory, he’s careful not to use a word like ’stole’ to make sure it won’t seem that way, but the thought does cross his mind all the same. Surely not, right? Surely someone just moved them to store them somewhere else or something…
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Mars is about to ask about it, but it’s at that moment that John’s question to his coworkers gives them an undesired answer.
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”Hmm….” Mars glanced up at the ceiling at that moment, knowing security footage could give them their answer. It would be a pain to go through it all, though, and it shouldn’t be done unless absolutely necessary. It would be bad if it seems as if he distrusts his employees to that degree, and so, he chooses the alternative.
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”I don’t think someone could leave the floor unnoticed if they took a bunch of those. They must be somewhere around here.”
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A mystery. A hunt. Usually, Mars loves that kind of stuff.

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TAG WITH @john

POSTED ON Dec 6, 2022 22:02:37 GMT

Martín del Mar likes this

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John stands off to the side while the boss assesses the situation. His arms crossed in front of him, one hand rubbing at his chin, he tries to think about what to do next. The other managers are honest people so there's nothing to be gained from drilling them harder on this. Maybe they could speak with the few other employees who have been in and out? But those are just a few interns who did coffee runs. John can't say he's eager to make them feel untrusted by the company so early into their time with P.O.G.

It's del Mar's comment on how hard it would be to leave the floor undetected that settles things for him. John nods, grabs his suit jacket and puts it on, and walks towards the room's still-open door.

"I'm most of the way through my quota for the day anyway. I'll do a sweep of the floor," as he speaks he reaches into the right pocket of his slacks and comes back with a single, worn pokeball. Today is MC's promised, weekly exercise day. He was going to let her go wild a bit on the walk back home -- but he's sure she won't object to helping him hunt down these presents.

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Azul

Mars | Tuesday

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TAG WITH @mars

POSTED ON Dec 7, 2022 13:27:37 GMT

john nelson likes this

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The sight of john nelson reaching for a worn pokéball grabs the banker's attention as much as it awakens his curiosity. See, generally such things would be of no consequence, for most people in this world have at least one pokémon, yet it's the still-vivid the memories of their recent conversation at small lower district bar that change things. Mars remembers what he has been told of John's history with pokémon training, so obviously, he now wonders. What kind of pokémon does he have? Is this one of the ones he tried to challenge gyms with? What does he plan to do?
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A lot can be learned about a person based on how they choose to use pokémon, that much is well aware of.
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Plus, he too wants to get to the bottom of this, and so a decision is made swiftly.
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"I'll go with you." He tells his employee, and from a gleaming and perfectly polished Luxury Ball, an Espeon is released. She stretches her long body as if having just woken from deep hibernation, her forked tail swaying when eyes of amethyst fix on John and John alone. Some people can find the stare of psychic pokémon unnerving at times; as if these pokémon could see right through them, their future and past. Mars is well aware of it, but he doesn't seem to mind it, perhaps because psychic is one of the two types in which he's known to specialize. Calmly, he stands, leaving his half-full mug behind.
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"Delphi."
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The oracle. The name is appropriate.

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TAG WITH @john

POSTED ON Dec 7, 2022 16:09:54 GMT

Martín del Mar likes this

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There's not a lot left of the passionate trainer John used to be. His fashion sense has changed, his bearing gone more mild, but when he holds a pokeball his teenage self comes to the surface for just a moment.

When he first started his time on the gym circuit John, like many young trainers, got hung up on the aesthetics. He spent almost as much time training Dess as he did practicing holding her pokeball. Throwing it. He wanted to look cool doing both -- like the trainers he saw on TV. That kind of muscle memory doesn't just go away. When John pulls the pokeball from his pocket it's with just his first two fingers and thumb. When it grows in his hand his other fingers join the grip seamlessly.

This isn't the venue or situation to go pitching a pokeball, but he lets it roll off his fingers with a pop of their tips. It spins gracefully in the air (suspended, for just a moment by the momentum) before plummeting to the ground. MC is released in a flash of white light at the same time the pokeball bounces off the tile and back into John's hand.

The Zangoose is less poised than her trainer. She lets out a trill and immediately starts scanning the surroundings for opponents. When she spots Delphi she lowers into a squat and growls, claws flexing.

"Hey, none of that," John chides her lightly, ruffling the fur between her ears in a way he knows will always put her at ease, "I'm still at work. Fight night is for the walk home."

While MC's hackles settle, John shoots an apologetic look towards his boss and Delphi. The latter gets a small smile and bow of his head. He's obviously a little uncomfortable -- embarrassed more like -- but it's got nothing to do with the Espeon's unwavering gaze.

"I don't want to take up too much of your time, sir, so where would you like to start?"

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Mars | Tuesday

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Canalave City, Sinnoh

Bi / Demiro

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TAG WITH @mars

POSTED ON Dec 8, 2022 22:47:37 GMT

john nelson likes this

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People can lie, people can pretend, but no matter how good an actor someone is, there are always things that they can’t hide about themselves. It can be something as simple as a gesture, a word, or a subtle change in demeanour.
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john nelson may act as if his days pursuing the life of a professional pokémon trainer are long gone, yet to someone observant, to someone like his own boss, it’s clear that that spirit still exists within him, even if it may currently be no more than the embers of it.
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It’s nice to see those kinds of things in others.
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”Cute Zangoose. Way nicer than mine.” The banker seems as unfazed by the pokémon’s display as his own Espeon is, the feline’s stare being unwavering. It goes from John to the Zangoose, almost as if she were looking down upon it. Something which Mars would of course blame on the fact that his own Zangoose is a sassy (endearing) and prissy (hilarious) brat – a Christmas gift from Remiel Calcifet, which he had teasingly named after his dear friend, the Galarian Ambassador himself. Although, if the shoe fits…
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”Ah, I think we should leave that part up to the pokémon, don’t you?” Mars smiles, gazing down upon his Espeon. ”Delphi, we have gifts to find.”
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He doesn’t need to say more than that.
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The Espeon’s pointed ears twitch, alert, and in a graceful motion, she jumps onto the table, approaching the awaiting pile of presents. After one sniffs, she looks ahead, jumping off and heading out the door without detail. Mars follows along, gesturing for John to also do so.
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And so, they go, the CEO calmly walking pass rows of desk, file cabinets, a mail cart being wheeled along by a nervous intern, and even cutouts of grinning Meowth wearing adorable Christmas outfits complete with Stantler headbands to make them appear as if they were Santa’s Reindeer (Cash Money, recognizable by her pink tail, even sports a red nose; the Rudolph of the group).
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It’s then that Delphi stops before a hallway marked by closed doors.
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”Alright, John. Take your pick.”

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POSTED ON Dec 9, 2022 23:54:49 GMT

Martín del Mar likes this

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"Any Zangoose that makes MC look nice . . . I think I'll take your word for it," John laughs, awkward and nervous. MC is difficult on a good day. Any pokemon more unruly than her, he isn't fated for.

At the same time he gives MC another scratch between the ears. Said ears twitch, then flatten, then perk up as the Espeon starts scenting a trail. Not one to be completely outdone, MC slips out from under John's hand and -- thank the gods, holy shit doesn't start a fight -- runs after the Espeon. Almost like a child trailing behind a sibling, anxious not to be left behind. MC follows Delphi through the office and John follows MC.

Occasional curious comments from workers are silenced by John with a wink and a finger to his lips. A quick miming of typing: 'just focus on your work, Abby, we both know you've got some catching up to do '.

By the time they stop in front of a hallway the novelty of the boss, a manager, and two pokemon strolling through the office has passed. Replaced with the stress of knowing a manager and the boss are here to personally witness how much (or how little) work is getting done. There are no eyes on them as John considers the doors ahead of them.

"I think you had the right idea," he replies, meaning unclear for just a moment before he bumps MC's back with his foot. She spins around and hisses, only to be silenced like the others under John's guidance with a finger to the lips.

"Quiet. You don't want to get shown up, do you? Pick a door."

Those ears swivel again before the Zangoose goes jogging down the hall, toddling on those short legs of hers. She sniffs at a few doors before skipping several as she picks up speed. Halfway down the hall she scratches at a door (not rough enough to mar the wood but with enough force John quickly clears the space between them to shoo her paws away) and begins to growl quietly.

"I think we've got a winner," John says, looking over his shoulder at del Mar, awkwardly placing himself between MC and the door she's picked.

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Mars | Tuesday

He/Him

August 4th

Canalave City, Sinnoh

Bi / Demiro

POG Bank CEO

Underboss

1008 height

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TAG WITH @mars

POSTED ON Dec 12, 2022 1:29:50 GMT

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The bright, amethyst gaze of the Espeon is serene as she watches the Zangoose, their demeanors being nothing short of polar opposites. Where MC hisses and scratches, Delphi remains perfectly calm – taking steps that don’t seem to make a single sound. That much is to be expected; she had been bred and trained to be this way, after all.
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By her side, the steps of the CEO are also incredibly quiet, but in an environment like this busy office, that much may be almost impossible to notice. They have other things to focus on; such as the door John’s Zangoose soon leads them to.
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There is no praise just yet.
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”Seems so. Let’s have a look, then.” Mars declares then, waiting for John to open the door and show them the results of his pokémon’s efforts. Will they find the missing gifts? Will they find the culprit?
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Yes and no.
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For, see, when the door is open, what they find are gifts indeed, a couple of them: scratched, torn to pieces, and robbed of half of their content. Some of the wrapping paper hangs incriminatingly from an open vent, and with it, so does a golden tinsel garland that looks as if it had been handled by a pokémon as wild as the Zangoose herself.
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The supply closet is a crime scene and it is fucking disastrous.
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”The vents…” A pokémon sneaking through the building’s vents or perhaps many of them. Mars knows those claw marks all too well. He sighs there and then. ”It must have been the Meowth.”
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P.O.G Bank's own beloved mascots.

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POSTED ON Dec 13, 2022 22:16:32 GMT

Martín del Mar likes this

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John doesn't waste any time opening the door. MC is already trying to reach past him to open the door and those claws don't discriminate between wood and cloth -- he'd prefer not to have to shell out who knows how much more PD to replace his work slacks.

"Well, shit," John sighs the moment he sees the room, the debris scattered all over, and the source of the debris. He was really hoping something . . . else? Had happened? Already he's doing a mental tally of how many more gifts he's going to need to wrap to make up for this bit of mischief.

"Of course it's the Meowth," he continues, walking into the supply closet with his hands on his hips.

The Meowth are the bank's beloved mascots and important team members who help in community outreach. They're also Meowth and that means they're capricious and impish and -- gods does he know -- fully capable of this kind of ridiculousness. Honestly, John's a bit disappointed in himself for not guessing it was them from the start.

"If I'm being frank, I'm shocked it took them this many years to pull something like this."

With another put-upon sigh he stands underneath the open vent and looks up into its dark interior. MC snuffles about around his feet and tears up some more wrapping paper.

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Azul

Mars | Tuesday

He/Him

August 4th

Canalave City, Sinnoh

Bi / Demiro

POG Bank CEO

Underboss

1008 height

Veni. Videre. Vincam.

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TAG WITH @mars

POSTED ON Dec 17, 2022 1:55:48 GMT

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Despite what people may believe due to P.O.G Bank’s clever advertising campaigns, before becoming CEO of such a financial institution, Mars never had any particular interest in felines. They had always been just like any other pokémon to him. That is, of course, until the day he was welcomed into the bank and gifted a Meowth along with a mega stone for it. That one particular Meowth has long since evolved; now a regal Persian that must currently be peacefully napping in his office, but there are many others, and Cash Money herself had even been there with him when he had earned Melody Miro’s badge (footage which, by the way, had made for spectacular promotional material).
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So, throughout his time in Hoenn, Mars has actually grown to appreciate Meowth quite a lot (he even likes them!), and because he has, he’s also well aware of how capricious they are.
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”Still not as bad as Fulgora.” He thinks, but such a thought is not voice, and instead he finds himself sighing. ”Yeah, same here. They must have been really bored and managed to leave the cattery somehow. I’ll contact them to see which Meowth are missing.”
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The cattery where most of P.O.G Bank’s Meowth live is on the same floor as the small daycare corporate headquarters has set up for the young pokémon of the employees who might need it, which is most definitely not this floor.
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Just as Mars brings out his phone and is about to tell John he does not need to keep looking, a hissing sound comes from the vent, caused by the latter’s presence right beneath it.
[break][break]
”Huh… Guess one is still here. Careful, we have some new ones that haven’t been trained to interact with the public just yet.”
[break][break]
Of course, Delphi simply watches, as if unbothered by any harm that could possibly come to either of them.

[break][break]

[attr="class","tag"]john nelson

[attr="class","notes"]

notes

[attr="class","pkmn"][break]

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doe

johnny

he/him

thirty-five

august 21st

slateport city

homosexual

office worker

civilian

20 height

everyday i think a little less like how i did when i was younger

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96 posts

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POSTED ON Dec 20, 2022 1:15:21 GMT

Martín del Mar likes this

[attr="class","samcam"]

"Managed to leave the cattery somehow . . ." John murmurs more to himself than to the other man in the room. It's hard for him to pin down who (or what) that idea makes him more frustrated with: the workers at the cattery or the Meowth themselves. His heart tells him the Meowth -- he doesn't like to pin blame on workers whenever possible -- but part of his brain argues that you can't blame a (mostly) wild pokemon for escaping. The people at the cattery should be doing their best to curtail their attempts.

No matter where he lands on the matter of blame John doesn't vocalize anything. He hasn't forgotten the lesson he learned over drinks. Even if del Mar isn't the type to fire employees willy nilly, it would irresponsible of John to speak ill of them around their boss.

So instead he focuses on the building yowl that echoes out from the vent's exit. Entrance? The hole in the vent.

"Ah, I've interacted with enough wild pokemon. I'll be alright," he replies to del Mar, but takes a step back out of the danger zone anyway, "MC, keep sharp. If it drops down you take it down."

The Zangoose rushes into the spot John was just in and drags her claws against one another. HONE CLAWS sharpens and brightens them in the same motion as they issue a hiss of their own.

"Gently," he adds as an afterthought and his pokemon settles just the smallest amount.

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Azul

Mars | Tuesday

He/Him

August 4th

Canalave City, Sinnoh

Bi / Demiro

POG Bank CEO

Underboss

1008 height

Veni. Videre. Vincam.

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