Finally, the other half of the meeting arrived. Luckily for the pair of deliverymen, the hard part of their mission was over. They had gotten the walkie talkie where it needed to be, and now all they needed to do was turn it on.

That tasks sounds easy enough, but between the two tiny Pokemon with a single braincell shared between them, it might as well be a monumental challenge. Salandit claws and Tarountula legs poke and prod just about every button and flick every switch, trying to activate the two-way radio. Eventually, any sort of cohesion falls apart entirely, and the scene devolves into the pair of them jumping up and down on the walkie talkie as though it's a trampoline. Surprisingly, though, that somehow works. The walkie-talkie finally turns on, signalled by a sharp crackle that causes both of the critters to recoil in shock, before quickly scurrying away from the device, lest they somehow accidentally turn it off again.

After a pause, a voice, crackly and low quality and far away, comes from the receiver.

"Hello? Hello. Anyone there? Anyone...? Did you knuckleheads accidentally turn this thing on again? I swear to Arceus..."

---

Aurelie Lefevre

Finally, another human.

Or, well, another friendly human. You've got plenty of "prisoners" of "war" in here with you, but they're not exactly conversational, nor are they particularly conscious. That's probably for the best, though, because you can't imagine that they have much nice to say to you. A selection of swears and slurs, maybe, but nothing particularly compelling. Not that this bleary radio conversation is a grand improvement, mind, but its enough to stave off the cabin fever of your little operation.

...Is it just you, or does the voice on the other end of this walkie-talkie sound a little irritated? Nah, probably just the electrical interfetterence. There's no way anyone could be mad about an idea as smart as this one.

"Hello! Yes, good, good good good, good. Good to talk to you." You reply, fast-tracking the small talk as you sit up in your chair. Idly, you grab a Pokeball from your belt, tossing it up and down as you speak. What intel do you have? That's a difficult question, and one you're not sure how you're supposed to answer. "In terms of intel? I got just about everything short of Navy's credit card information. I'm practically drowning in information over here. What do you want to know?"

---

Aurelie Lefevre

At the mention of captured League members, you idly tilt your head towards the makeshift cell in the corner of your cave. How many of them do you have packed in there right now? Fifteen, maybe? All of them unconscious, trapped behind a Light Screen and wrapped in a layer of Sticky Webs. Your Claydol hovers idly by, its many eyes watching both you in the prisoners, bobbing up and down as it waits and waits. She's not wrong, per say, but you'd like to think it's a little more nuanced than that. Either way...

"I'm afraid that's classified." You play it off coolly, pushing your sunglasses up your nose and smiling for nobody in particular. "If I told you, I'd have to kill you. You know how it is."

You choose to let all the quips and jokes fly past. It's not like you've got internet access here, so even if you did have Navidson's credit card, there wasn't much you could do with it. Besides, you already have a Stayplation 5. You shoplifted it so you could play Spidops Man 2, which you still haven't gotten around to. Maybe you'll make time for it after this...

"Anyway, that's enough of the jokes. You want intel, and I've got intel. What do you want to know?"

---

Aurelie Lefevre

The tunnels? Oh, right. That's what you're supposed to be doing here. Then again, you don't exactly have much to contribute on that front, do you? You're not much for archaeology, deciphering glyphs and runes and all that. No, you'll leave solving those ancient mysteries to the scientists and the intellectuals. Meanwhile, you'll just stay up here and keep on doing the hard work.

Still, she wants to know, and you've got more than a few scouts and explorers caged up here. With a look and a nod towards Claydol, the effigy's eyes begin to glow, as do those of the prisoners. Psychic energy pours from mouths and nostrils, an aurora upon which a tapestry of feeling, thought and memory is painted. Weeks of experience spool out over the course of seconds, starting from the moment they were captured, and moving backwards up until the very moment they first set foot on Route 105. Moments of intrigue and interests are plucked out and plastered upon the air, like fine works of art in a museum. After about a minute or so, the captives' eyes are once again dulled, the stream of consciousness stops, and you're left alone to parse the intricate web of information before you.

"...Hm. Yeah, I see... I think I've got something for you here."

You don't know what the fuck you're looking at. This is such a dense and incomprehensible block of information that you could use it to bash someone's skull in. You blink at Claydol and make a vague and meaningless gesture, but it understands that well enough. A wall of a hundred images vanish, leaving two behind - Both of the same island. One shows a man-made tunnel leading downward, and one has a familiar-looking meeting point in the background.

"If you look about... Northish of you? Northeastish?" You idly stroke your chin, squinting at the fuzzy memory to try and discern the details. "You'll see an island with two trees in the distance. Between them, you'll find a tunnel made by the League, and if you can slip through that, it'll get you... Somewhere. I don't know if its the type of ruin you're looking for, but if the League has men digging around there, then they probably have a good reason for it."

---

Aurelie Lefevre
MP TOTAL -
100MP for Secret.
50MP for 5 IC Posts.
10MP for Faction Race Objectives.
10MP for assisting an ally.
100MP for completing an RT Mission.
50MP for participation.
200MP for Winning.
TOTAL = 520MP.