[attr="class","spiral"]The action unfolds in seconds. The trigger Plank pulled pulls several more in rapid succession; skips the interaction straight to its likely (but until now not certain) conclusion.

She is to blame but she doesn't watch it. Not any of it. From the moment she gives Hull his marching orders her eyes are on the ground, the recruiter's feet, the front of her hoodie. If the criminal she'd left bereft a friend hadn't been stopped by Lucario she no doubt would have died then and there.

But he was. So she's allowed to continue boring holes in the ground with her eyes. Trying to see past one hell to another.

"We done?" she suddenly pipes up, looking up at the recruiter with unfocused eyes. Voice spacey.

[attr="class","spiral"]Trading x1 SILVALLY MEMORY OF CHOICE (vital spirit festival) to FERNANDO SILPH in exchange for HELIOLISK (to peggie vela) and GACHA STARYU (to amalia samson)

[attr="class","spiral"]In the moment they stand idle Plank stares at nowhere in particular, the space in front of her toes. She's content to stay that way but he's talking at her. She can't just leave him hanging, that's trouble. On reflex she throws out some reply from memory.

"Yeah, he's a bit slow; but he's tough 'n' hits like a truck," she replies. Pats Hull's shell again for good measure. The Golisopod looks down at her curiously. This isn't how he's used to his trainer acting. Being just a pokemon though, there's not much he can do beyond shuffle a little closer to her.

Plank strolls along behind the recruiter without much in the way of purpose. Her eyes skate around the space on auto-pilot, her legs move with the same kind of obligated stride. The space between her and the older man doesn't decrease or widen. It's occupied mostly by Hull who seems just as set to separate Plank from the recruiter as the thugs.

The presence of others is noted passively. The words they're saying slide off of her like water on a Ducklett's back. It doesn't matter, does it? They're not here to talk. That's what the recruiter said.

"Make a good FIRST IMPRESSION, won't ya Hull?" she says absentmindedly, gives the pokemon another pat, "Let 'em know we mean business, yeah?"

The Golisopod has never needed encouragement to pick a fight. Still more wild than not, he hasn't learned to be apprehensive in the face of people either. He rushes forward as soon as he's got permission from Plank and lashes out with a claw.

His FIRST IMPRESSION is thrown out with killing intent. A swing at the older man accosting Gavin -- aimed to break a few ribs at least. Cave in his chest at worst.

[attr="class","spiral"]It figures, that she couldn't get away with a mistake like that. Honestly it would have been more of a shock if the head scientist had missed it. Still, being stuck in this trap of her own design is . . . shit. But, not all hope is lost.

Plank licks her lips. Thinks for just a second. If she works through this in the right order, with the right words, just maybe everyone walks away alright. Just have to breath.

Just like a bad day at sea with dad. Just like getting caught below deck where she didn't belong.

"The job, it was t' move a couple Porygon initially," own up to the mistake, look apologetic while you do, "but while we were movin' 'em there was . . . problems. Mistakes, t' be frank. We lost one out on the water. I was in a rush 'n' I ran up on some rocks 'n' . . . well it's a miracle we didn't lose both of 'em."

Plank's eyes are trained on the ground as she lies through her teeth. She adds a fake tell, kicking at the ground, to her natural signs of anxiety (the way her hands tunnel so deep into her pockets the outline of her fingers show, the way she sweats and chews at her cheek).

"When we got t' the client we, well we lied to 'im," she lets out a heavy sigh and furrows her brows before looking up, peeks at the Solrock nervously (doesn't have to play up the way it makes her shiver), "Told 'im the deal was always for one instead of two. He bought it. Paid us what we were owed even though he was gettin' shorted."

She blinks her eyes a couple times quickly. Clears tears that aren't quite there.

"I'm sorry ma'am, for lyin'. I was hopin' it would stay a secret since we got away with it, but like ya said . . . smooth on my part."

[attr="class","spiral"]Oh yeah, this is just what Plank wanted. To drop out of cramped vents and into some creepy nothing room. She clings a little tighter to Hull, who's still cradling her in his arms, as she scans the room anxiously. God. Her body still aches.

"Hang in there Hull," she murmurs before leaning a little more heavily on the large pokemon. If he minds he doesn't make it obvious, just shifts his weight a little.

He is however bothered by the exploding light. He instinctively curls in at the sudden burst of light and sparks, crushing Plank to his chest somewhat. She pushes against his pull, but can't fault him. The flash had startled a yelp out of her, too.

"What the fuck are ya even doin' over there? We've been here for five fuckin' seconds and ya blew somethin' up!" she shouts in the direction of Choi's flashlight's glow. A mistake, as soon as the glow was shining at her. It's her turn to curl up as she tucks her face behind crossed arms and turns in to face her Golisopod's chest.

Hull, to his credit, stands a bit straighter and chitters menacingly for a moment. Whether it's protectiveness or just his general desire to pick a fight hanging around isn't clear.

"Hasn't anyone ever taught ya not t' go around shinin' -- wait a fuckin' minute," she suddenly uncurls, leans over Hull's arms to glare down at Choi, "We're fuckin' trapped!? Are ya kiddin' me!?"

She continues to complain as the man pulls out his phone.

"I get shot at by some fuckin' vent creature because of you, then I jump in the vents after ya because ya want t' chase it so bad, and now I'm stuck in some fuckin' dust farm of a room 'cus I bothered t' hop down 'n' make sure ya didn't . . . I don't know, break somethin' after fallin' outta the damn vents? You're a fuckin' curse."

She scoffs at his suggestion they be "useful", stops leaning over Hull's arms to instead rest against his chest.

"Why the fuck should I?"

[attr="class","spiral"]Even after she's given permission to enter Plank takes just a second. Licks her lips, rubs her sweaty palms down the front of her sweatshirt, and then opens the door. Does her best to look not-so-scared-shitless when she strides in and swings it shut behind her.

It's hard to do that with the way the head scientist opens this . . . what is it? A conversation? Feels a bit more like an interrogation. The tone feels serious and those eyes trained on her don't do much to help. Neither does the sentry on duty.

Plank spares an anxious glance towards the Houndoom before taking a thick swallow and speaking.

"Uh, well, I dunno if I'd say I have one," she starts, careful to put the emphasis on "have" and not "I". She may not give half a shit about Ozaki, but if it becomes clear she swiped a Porygon it's not going to do her any favors, "A week or so ago, I think, I was given a mission t' uh . . . move a cou-- t' move one. Uh, ma'am."

She bites at the inside of her cheek when she trips on her words.

"And I did. Move it, that is. Delivered safe 'n' sound t' the buyer."

[attr="class","spiral"]"Mmm, yeah," she agrees casually, focusing on breathing as she turns from picking at her pockets to rifling through them. Most of her pokeballs she knows by feel. How worn the surfaces are, where the wearing is. She finds what she's looking for and brings her left hand out palming a net ball.

"Pop would turn 'em on people, too. Not often, just when it was needed," she offers up absentmindedly as she rolls the pokeball in her hand, "Figure technically that was Rocket work too, though."

Following the recruiter's lead she tosses her net ball towards the ground. It releases Hull, her Golisopod, in a flash of light before bouncing back to her hand.

"Figure he'll cover for me alright," she replies, giving the already antsy-looking pokemon a pat on the shell.

Plank doesn't notice the looks the man is giving her all the while. At this point she probably wouldn't care if she did. It's time for work, and you don't think while you're on the clock.

baby forgot crunch → learned psychic fangs! (magost)
baby forgot screech → learned protect! (magost)


swabbie learned protect! (aspear)


thomas learned acid! (aspear)


hull learned rock smash! (aspear)

→
princess evolved to seaking! (oran)

throwing away that pecha!

[attr="class","spiral"]Okay, so they're doing this. That sucks. It's not some special kind of bad though. Very few things in her life get the privilege of being a special kind of bad. She can do this. Not the first time she's been pushed into a job she can't handle.

"Yeah, let's go or whatever," Plank mumbles. Her hands pick at the outsides of her pockets as they walk towards the door. Her eyes are carefully trained on the man's back. Not so much because she cares to look at it but because it's there and if she just focuses . . .

Yeah, she can already feel things kind of fuzzing around the edges.

"Mhmm," she replies, a hum in the back of her throat, "My crew's full of fighters."

Hasn't tried them against people, but if she uses the wilder ones . . . or maybe Jack and Mama.

[attr="class","spiral"]"Yeah, the time honored tradition of 'one strike you're out'." Plank mumbles to the floorboards. Oh yeah that makes it better. They've been warned.

Despite herself Plank can't help but shoot the recruiter an unimpressed look at his question. Her eyebrows knit together and her eyes squinting, nose wrinkled, mouth a thin line. Is that a problem? Has he seen her over the last thirty seconds?

But then again, he's not asking after her comfort. About whether she's okay with what they're doing or if she can say it out loud without taking the long way 'round. He's asking if she can do it. If she can do this.

"I . . "

'Guess I don't have much choice.'

'Don't know why ya bothered askin'.'

'Would rather not, if we're bein' honest.'

"Fuckin' . . . no, not a problem," she bites out, hates herself immediately for it. Wonders if backing out really would have been that bad. But too late now. Her mouth has already sealed the deal.

Well, maybe the recruiter will like the answer at least.

[attr="class","spiral"]"I mean," her voice catches on her apprehension. Of course she fucking knows, but does she have to get into it?

Does he have to call them degenerates? Sure, Plank can imagine anyone not worthy of being called a Rocket of all things is probably up to some shit, but just the other day they were . . . and the recruiter almost . . . if she wasn't there the Slowpoke would have . . .

Precious seconds tick by as she procrastinates with inner monologue. She can tell, even through the haze of her own thoughts, that the man is only so patient. The memory of the Slowpoke is topical. Reminds her of the consequence of being silent and fidgeting for too long.

"It's nothin' nice," she says suddenly, "I mean, no shit it's nothin' nice, right? But . . . I mean it's gotta be enough for thugs t' get the picture and veterans t' fuck off so I mean."

I mean, I mean, I mean, every time she pivots away from the point she stalls like a scratched record.

"Probably, I don't know, violent," she mumbles.

She's looking at the ground by now, kicking at the dusty floorboards.

[attr="class","spiral"]A small pool of water sits in this side chamber of the caverns much in the same way they sit around the other chambers and tunnels. Plank isn't sure if it's convenient or not. It allows for easy access to water! But then the water needs to be boiled . . . Actually she's not sure boiling is even enough to ensure it's alright. She sure hopes it is!

She wonders about this as she walks over to the pool and dips her pot into it -- pulls it back with a reward of visibly clean but no doubt bacteria ridden cave water. Oh, and a Croconaw. Not in the pot, but apparently waiting in the water and drawn by her presence.

It bursts from the water and snaps its jaws a few inches in front of her. A few inches only because she jumps back on reflex.

"Son of a bitch! Who the fuck do ya think ya are, huh!?" she screams and her voice echoes off the walls. There's no answer. The Croconaw has already vanished beneath the water and doesn't so much as peek up at her again.

Cheeky asshole.

"Aw man, did I spill the water?" Plank wonders aloud. An afterthought. When she looks the pot is still about half full. Good enough.

"I'm gonna start boilin' the water!" she shouts to her pokemon, ducking back into the tent and crawling over to the stovetop. Again there's no response. This time because Sassy has fallen asleep against Bunker's shell; and Bunker is Bunker.