[attr="class","nikita"]Cold eyes stared at Josh and his Walking Wake as they made his way toward him. If one paid attention, they would notice he’d sped up the cadence at which the cigarette burnt out. By the time the gym leader arrived, it was just a stub in his hands. He pinched the embers dead with one leather glove. It vanished into his pocket to be properly disposed of later. Certainly, he was no environmentalist, but Nikita Sokolov was no slob.

Somehow, Josh Devlin managed to make the ledge without looking like a total fool.

As the darker haired man landed, the detective backed up. Once again, the Alakazam is nowhere to be seen.

The pair had plenty of room to navigate the tunnel. While cognizant of the paranoia, it’s grip on him was looser. Nikita rarely gave in to his emotions. He had no intention of starting now. Besides, he spent much of his time looking for enemies. It’s why everyone got an initial once-over. “Let’s be on our way.” There’s a pause as his feet touch fleshy ground. “The effect is less pronounced if you keep moving.”

As the area opens in front of them, they come upon a trident in the road. Each tunnel leads into parts unknown. Perhaps it was time to enlist the help of a local? A ball expanded as a Nihelego took to the field. “I trust you know a way forward?” The jellyfish swayed to inaudible music for a moment. Its tentacles lifted as if tasting the air itself. Then, after a moment, it drifted down the central tunnel.

“I am curious, Devlin.” He allowed the younger man to take the lead. “Why are you here?” Between his gym and the League needs, it seemed an odd time for exploring. “I would think a Champion would be too busy.” The same went for a master detective, but things like locked room mysteries took a back seat to war. Especially when so many criminals no longer wore masks.

[attr="class","samjerpoke"]

[attr="class","nikitatag"] Josh Devlin

[attr="class","nikita"]“It appears someone rang the dinner bell.” Many of the gulls are diving for the fishmongers and their wares. But the smell of this place permeates everywhere. It is little wonder the little miscreants are confused.

The hungry Cramorant crashes to the ground. The detective’s chair follows shortly after. When it stands, the thing staggers like a drunkard. But there’s undeniable rage in its eyes. Around them, other trainers scramble to respond. This—coupled with their own Pokemon’s attacks—turns the place into a warzone. “Understood.” He presses his hands to his ears as the Chatot’s attack clears the air around them.

It still makes his head ring with the noise. A headache is already threatening.

Nikita’s eyes narrow as someone across the way unleashes a Hydro Pump at a Pelipper. He grabs for Morrighan’s sleeve as he gestures her down. “Under the table!” The detective ducks down as the water whistles through the air where his head had been. Unfortunately, the man’s Pokemon is not as quick to respond. It sends his Kleavor tumbling head over axes. CRASH! His weight collapses a nearby patio set.

The angered Cramorant moves to Brave Bird the temporary structure. It is at this time that Winters surges back onto the scene. A Phantom Force carries him into a collision with the hellbent avian. His teeth lock around its neck as he tosses it aside. The water type doesn’t rise a second time.

“Are you all right?” A skeletal hand reaches to probe the back of his head. He hopes it feels worse than it looks.

[attr="class","samjerpoke"]

[attr="class","nikitatag"] Morrighan Cahill

[attr="class","nikita"]The detective does not detect mold in the air. A benefit of drowning one’s boredom in nicotine.

When she says Spikemuth, the clues fall into place. There are signs of that town’s mark on the younger investigator. “Work has taken me there before.” His younger years had been punctuated by travel. It allowed him a chance to visit the sights. There was no region the Sokolov had not touched. “It is not an experience I want to repeat.” The accent was only a small part of the problem.

From his jean pocket, Nikita pulls out a pair of strangely shaped glasses. These are passed over to the Nidoking beside him. With surprising delicacy, the poison type settles them in front of his eyes. Little poisonous spikes hold them in place. “I do not think the building is very energy efficient, if that is what you're asking.” Certainly, the common area was a glorified warehouse. “But the other rooms are better.”

At the complaint, Nikita reaches into the pocket of his jacket. “The maid only comes Thursdays, I am afraid.” A kerchief is pulled from the inside While it doesn’t match the rest of his outfit, the man could not give up all semblances of civilization for Lyle. “Here.” At the very least, it could serve as a snot rag. The last thing he wanted to punctuate this affair with was a cold.

After a moment, he turns toward the staircase. “It’s the second door on the right.” His Nidoking takes point. “Stay in front of us.” There may be a need to return to the earlier act. A need that he truly hopes goes unfulfilled.

[attr="class","samjerpoke"]

[attr="class","nikitatag"] MAISIE MAUDLIN

[attr="class","nikita"]Nikita felt no pity for the grunts in front of him. They would act no differently if the tables were turned. While he disliked brutality it was hard to deny there was a logicalness to it. The only way to prevent retaliation is to take the player off the board.

The Kleavor lays still in the soil. Flesh is visible through its red-stained armor. As the arm lifts, there’s a SQUELCH. One malachite ax is shattered. “Tch.” The bug-type vanishes into his ball in a burst of red light. Any response to the bird’s squawking stalled as it pivots to stall the dog. Which, in itself, is a confession. There’d be no reason for a Pokemon to do that for some random prisoner.

“I believe you know exactly what I am talking about.” The Houndstone dives beneath the soil, avoiding the worst of the Rock Slide. The ghoul patrols beneath the dirt, waiting for the perfect time to strike. “It was quite a valiant attempt.” He wonders if there is any true connection between the man in front of him and the missing young woman. He hopes the fellow would not be that foolish.

It would reflect quite badly on him. “Though not enough it seems.” He steps over the unconscious grunt. Each beat of his heart sends blood into the soil

The return of the Charizard is the final nail in the grunt’s coffin.


Anne dropped from the tree to stand beside her partner in crime. She glances to him for permission. The detective is quick to grant it, “Go.” The Intelleon vanishes in a burst of shadows as she lunges for the Metagross with a Sucker Punch.

Seemingly reacting to his partner’s movements, the Houndstone chooses that moment to burst from the ground in front of Andrew.





60 MP posts
50 MP for getting your Pokemon knocked out in your skirmish thread.
25 MP for knocking out another Pokemon in your skirmish thread.
25 MP include a theme song or visual involving your character meaningfully in your post.
50 MP have an antagonistic exchange of dialogue between your character and another writer's character or NPC.
50 MP showcase your own character's strength(s) meaningfully.
50 MP showcase your own character's weakness(es) meaningfully.
50 MP have your character self-doubt or cast doubt on another's confidence/allegiances/beliefs, etc.
50 MP have your character attempt to or successfully take revenge in some way.
50 MP have your character make a regrettable decision or make a sacrifice.
50 MP have your character's Pokemon symbolize or represent in some way, the condition of your character.
25 MP for completing your Skirmish thread.
50 MP for "winning" or having a "positive" outcome for your character and their Skirmish thread.
150 MP for having Rocket and League characters and faction-based conflict in the thread (no NPCs).
----------------
685 MP

[attr="class","samjerpoke"]

[attr="class","nikitatag"] Andrew Fisher

[attr="class","nikita"]At the Charizard’s name, Nikita sighs. It really tells him a lot about the kind of fools he’s dealing with. Cold, calculating eyes watch as the Charizard eats dirt. As the grunt struggles to his feet—grappling for something at his belt—Nikita lifts his gun. The other man’s hand is wrapped around a hunting knife. BANG! His hand explodes into gory confetti.

The man passes out from the pain.

Just as he opens his mouth to order his Intelleon’s attack, the Intelleon strikes. A reminder that the two are very much in sync and both are ruthless when they need to be. A finger lifts like the mouth of a sniper rifle as the water lizard unleashes a point blank Hydro Pump at her fallen opponent. Though some of it is lost to the steam of the heat spinning around her, it still packs a punch.

A shadow of steel falls across the shiny Kleavor. Its inscrutable, shark-like eyes stare at the raised fist. It is a dance of technology versus weather hewn nature. The Kleavor digs its rocky feet in. It waits until the arm is directly above it. It waits for Nikita’s order. “Ramses.” With a grunt, it swings its Stone Axe at the descending guillotine in an attempt to knock the Metagross off balance. But this is not enough. With a crack, the rocky mantis falls to the earth beneath the metal spider’s attack.

As the toxic chain closes in, Nikita lifts his gun again. A bullet steams toward the bird as he steps out of the strike’s way. But his knee and back are aching from his earlier fight with @makoto. His back protests as he half stumbles. He hits his knee in the dirt. The chain scrapes a nasty line across his cheeks. Fortunately, it misses his freshly replaced glasses. A man could only carry so many extras.

As the woman flies, Winters is quick to pursue her. He lifts his mouth in a Crunch as the woman hits the ground. The grisly crack is deafening among the chaos. Then, he turns to face Andrew in the bushes. A deep growl rumbles in his chest.

“That’s what I thought.” Nikita sighs. “Your acting skills were decent.” His cold tone is positively glacial. “Bravissimo.”

He does not like being made a fool of. This tactic was underhanded. “Perhaps we can have an encore?” The ghoulish dog rushes toward Andrew with flames kindling in its empty sockets.

[attr="class","samjerpoke"]

[attr="class","nikitatag"] Andrew Fisher

[attr="class","nikita"]Nikita’s vision is blurry. There are scrapes on his cheat from the explosion.

But the bright colors of the Deoxys are difficult to miss. Suddenly, a number of pieces fall into place. “Deoxys.” The detective starts forward with a snarl. His hand drops to another Pokeball. This one holds his Walking Wake. But the opposing pair are gone by the time the beast emerges.

It’s too little too late. Just like his realization. What a fool he was for ignoring this so-called grunt. “Damnit!” An uncharacteristic burst of rage erupts from the normally stoic man. He slams a skeletal fist into a nearby tree. The water-dragon type echoes his anger in a howling roar.

One disguise master had overcome the other, all because he'd been too willing to believe what was in front of him.

The Glalie lays still at the bottom of a tree. Its hard landing has torn a hole in its rocky exterior, leaving a view of the core beneath. Slowly, the ice-type shrinks back to his normal shape. Around them, trees hang heavy with ice and desperate tendrils of shadow. CRACK! A flurry of them fall to the ground.

With an angry gesture, he returns his Glalie to his ball. Normally, he would offer a few words of gratitude. But that politeness is extraneous. The ice-type will not be hearing anything for some time to come.

With a final glance at the fading shadows, the detective disappears into the underbrush.

50 MP describe your character's pokeball throwing style.
10 MP have your pokemon set weather, terrain, or a magic, trick, or wonder room in your thread.
25 MP have your pokemon be inflicted with a status condition by an opposing pokemon. (Shadow stuff)
10 MP mega evolve your own pokemon in your thread.
50 MP use a legendary, mythical, ultra beast, paradox pokemon in a way that reflects your character or highlights another character.
50 MP for getting your Pokemon knocked out in your skirmish thread.
50 MP knocking out opposing Pokemon in thread.
25 MP include a theme song or visual involving your character meaningfully in your post.
50 MP have your character be injured by another's pokemon directly or indirectly.
50 MP showcase your own character's strength(s) meaningfully. (logic)
50 MP showcase your own character's weakness(es) meaningfully. (ope he almost blind, ope arrogance)
50 MP have your character learn to respect another character in some way.
70 MP for posts
25 MP for thread completion
150 MP for loss
150 MP for faction conflict

TOTAL: 815 MP

[attr="class","samjerpoke"]

[attr="class","nikitatag"] Makoto Kurumi

[attr="class","nikita"]ANDREW X NIKKI
“Lovely.” Nikita sniffs derisively at the grunt. The idea of being trapped with Andrew churns his stomach. Any more of his whining would tempt him to bash his head against a wall. He quickly banishes these imaginings, however. He has no intention of being captured by these ignorant fools.

Golde eyes narrow as the Hydro Pump flies harmlessly over the grunt’s shoulder. Her tail lashes back and forth like an irritable cat. Suddenly, the tree shes perched on is lit by dancing flames. The heat saps at her natural moisture, partially obscuring her view of the battlefield. But she quickly rallies herself, climbing up higher into the tree.As her feet touch down, her attention returns to the battlefield. Suddenly, they’re facing three times as many opponents.

The ground beneath her trainer is now pockmarked by poison.

Remove one at a time. He prefers to see battle as ann excision. He is an anathema to chaos, which this battle is quickly becoming.Nikita’s response begins with Anne launching a Water Pulse at the Charizard’s face. The man trusts the water lizard to manage her own affair. “Stealth Rock!” Ramses sends sharp stones around his trainer’s side of the field, aiming to to turn any incoming ambush into a double-edged sword.

Then, he rushed forward aiming to use his axes to turn the quadrupedal spider into a tripedal one.

He notes the commotion in the bush and the suspicious flash of yellow feathers. “Winters.” The next word is a wisp of cigarette smoke given human form. But the ghoulish dog hears them. As the grunt knees to tie Andrew up, she’s slammed into by a high-powered Phantom force.

[attr="class","samjerpoke"]

[attr="class","nikitatag"] Andrew Fisher

[attr="class","nikita"]The detective sighed. “Unfortunately.” If either side were to give quarter like that, there would doubtlessly be hell to pay. While not a slave of the League itself, his work left him collared to it. No doubt the Rocket would be punished for taking the easy way out. And, somehow, he doubted it would come in the form of bureaucratic red tape or a PIP. Again, his fingers ghost along the butt of his gun in silent debate.

But the chaos in front of him made it difficult to aim. The shadows played tricks on his mind. One second he saw a hand waving at him, beckoning him forward. The next, the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. Only the knowledge that these feelings were illusions stopped him from unloading into the darkness.

Any thought of attacking Makoto ended as shadow and blizzard met. His Glalie lets out a pained moan as it pushes its Mega energy to the brink. Visibility sinks to nothing as Nikita’s world is swallowed by shadow and snow. There’s a final howl as the ice type tries to summon up a second wind.

There’s the sound of cracking as Mega energy gleams through the Glalie’s icy center. Then, there’s a deafening boom. An explosion sends the detective back into one of the spindly trees that surround them. Spots fly across his vision as he pushes himself away from the tree.

That Glalie was a dear friend. The panic in Nikita's voice is apparent. “Ignatius!” His glasses crunch beneath his feet as he peers through the attack’s aftermath.

[attr="class","samjerpoke"]

[attr="class","nikitatag"] Makoto Kurumi

[attr="class","nikita"]The detective makes no move to stop the Dreepy’s departure. The guards don’t seem to notice it. But it did not take a genius to play a roadblock. Nikita resists the urge to wrinkle his nose as the ‘perfume’ of the two washes over him. It smells like they bathed in some elixir crafted from cheap cologne and a teenager’s body spray.

The pair at the door cackle like drunk Mightenya. One of them even raises his hands in a similar gesture and imitates Maisie in a high-pitched voice. Nikita’s response is quick and reflective of the guard’s bravado, “It is when it’s on our turf, Squeaks.” They don’t think to ask if she’s armed or notice that her Pokemon balls are still present. At her question, the old detective scoffs. “That’s for us’n to know and you not to find out. Nosy lil tart.” That last statement makes him viscerally uncomfortable.

“Go on in Lyle—” The taller of the two says after a moment. The one right of him just nods. Nikita is surprised he is not drooling. That same guy seethes. “Don’t rough her up too much. She’s cute.” The smirk he offers is dark and venomous. It’s obviously a gesture he’s made before. “No promises.”

His Nidoking looks similarly rough and tumble. Unfortunately, without his glasses, Damian is almost blind as a bat. Everything in front of him swims into a giant blur.

As the door opens, he pushes her inside. Then, after pausing for a brief moment—like a Watchhog looking for predators—he lets her go. The warehouse is laid out before them in a series of dark humps. It smells stale and moldy. “I really have no idea how you talk that way. Enunciation must have hurt you.” He wipes his hands on his pants.

Then, he pulls on his gloves.

[attr="class","samjerpoke"]

[attr="class","nikitatag"] MAISIE MAUDLIN

[attr="class","nikita"]Emotions were never his strong suit. They made him uncomfortable, especially when they felt unprompted. When his children cried, he would typically offer them tea or hot chocolate and attempt to talk through it. But his logic was rarely the balm he needed. In Andrew’s case, there was no biological imperative to provide moral support.

So, instead, he turns to the side and continues to smoke his premium cigarette. It’s like Andrew is a friend he is waiting for to change into something decent—an emotionally stable adult. “You could have. You just choose not to.” The detective murmurs after a moment. At the very least, the man heeded to acknowledge it was a choice to put himself in this situation. “Still, I can understand your…distress.” There’s some distance put on that word, as if it’s some obscure medical term he hesitates to speak aloud.

Nikita follows in silence. Cold eyes examine the trail the man left. He pauses as he notices the intensified depression near where he emerged, as if Andrew hesitated. Almost like a predator preparing to pounce. Of course, if Robin was here, she would insist the man was simply scared and traumatized. That woman always was too forgiving. He would say it killed her, but it’d been his own hubris that did that.

As they walked, he pulled out another Pokemon to join his invisible two. A green Kleavor burst from the ball with angry eyes.

Nikita cannot repress a wince as the man is whipped violently into the earth. If this was a play, then Rocket truly did not care about their stooge. Before acting, Nikita indulged himself with a prolonged sigh. He truly disliked playing hero, especially in such a brutish situation. Immediately, his eyes shifted to a tree behind him. “Anne.” The lizard flickered into view as she braced herself against a tree.

A Hydro Pump erupted from her fingers, aiming to knock the dragon from the sky.

The rocky bug, meanwhile, takes the fiery blast. Then, shrugging it off, he attacks the chain itself with a heavy series of X-Scissors.

“We are not friends, I assure you.” Nikita felt the urge to correct.

[attr="class","samjerpoke"]

[attr="class","nikitatag"] Andrew Fisher

[attr="class","nikita"]The detective glances his way. “My apologies.” He murmurs after a moment. Notably, he makes no move to extinguish the cigarette. Such an allergy was more common than people thought. A surprising amount of smokers had similar reactions, but they kept at it. Fortunately, he had no such issue. “A blessing in disguise, I assure you.” While money was no object to him, he knew that the stuff stank and left its mark. He was just past the point where he cared.

At the talk of vigilance, Nikita’s salt-and-pepper brow rose. “I was not aware we had stopped.” This place was dangerous, and he had no intention of napping in a pile of stomach fluid.

The idea of swimming made his nose wrinkle. There were few things as dignified as that strange, underwater dance. Beneath his pants, he wore weights to stop himself from imitating Peter Pan. He waves away the gym leader’s offer of assistance. “I will be fine on my own, thank you.” Not as encumbered by body image issues, his ghoulish hound takes to the skies. His doggy paddle is adorable, completely at odds with his horrific appearance.

He grabs a Pokeball at his side.A stately Alakazam appears. The shortness of her mustache indicates she’s female. Her eyes are older but kind. “Barbara, would you be so kind?” He gestures to the cave mouth in the distance. With a nod, the psychic-type teleports them to the edge of the flexing opening. The smell of rotting flesh immediately washes over the pair.

“Charming.” He wonders how intense the smell would be if tar had not deadened his nose.

[attr="class","samjerpoke"]

[attr="class","nikitatag"] Josh Devlin