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Old 05-12-2017, 07:56 PM   #73
こばやし だいすき~
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Join Date: Apr 2007
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BALMUND – As you make your off-hand comments about the jobs while looking them over, the receptionist grew more and more aggravated. He seemed to be taking them somewhat personally, but at the same time could not really find fault in what you had to say. He kept quiet.

“Alright, ‘Balmund of Blackthorn City.’ Here’s the deal.” He pulled out a map and smacked it down on the counter in front of you. “Ralph’s Barbecue. Don’t take this hole-in-the-wall bar and grill lightly. Years and years ago, the Marshal’s conducted one of the biggest gangbuster operations in the city’s history here. Turned out Team Rocket was using the place as a front for massive international money laundering. It led to the arrest of 223 Team Rocket members and helped contribute to their local downfall.” He took a sip from his coffee, which was now beginning to run dry. “You know how the rest of that story goes. Well, the place reformed as a legitimate restaurant, and before you knew it, business was booming. And then the council was murdered and all hell broke loose. We aren’t sure what happened, or when, but we recently received an anonymous tip that the Shells took the place back over in the name of Team Rocket.” He grimaced. “As you know, it’s been reported to be a gambling ring for down-on-their-luck citizens to bet on illegal Pokemon battles. Now, we don’t know the exact nature of what goes on down in the old speakeasy under the restaurant outside of a few details. For starters, the only day we know for certain that they gather on is Friday nights, and it just so happens that today is a Friday. Second, we don’t know what kind of Pokemon they are using in this ring, or where they are even getting them. But given that they are Shells, it doesn’t really take much stretching of the imagination to come to several possible conclusions. We’ll need hard evidence before we can truly know for sure, though.”

The receptionist furled the map and tucked it under his desk. He then pulled out a large bowl with several marked Pokeballs in it. “Should you choose to, we have several department Pokemon available to assist trainers on these types cases. You may take one with you if you wish.” The receptionist pushed the bowl forward. The marked balls read the names of each species they contained. Braviary, Growlithe, Machoke, Hawlucha, Shiftry, and Gumshoos. “You have one advantage that many of us do not. You’re an outsider, and it shows. While this place’s primary demographic are common folk who are living paycheck to paycheck, these types of shindigs also attract a lot of passing travelers, a bill you fit perfectly. Use that to your advantage.” He took another sip of his coffee, this time slurping what remained. He was not happy with this fact. “Anyway, if you want to get into the ring, you’re gonna need to do exactly as I say. You’re gonna go to the barbecue joint, and you’re gonna go up to the bar. When the bartender asks you what you want, you’re gonna tell them you want the Slowpoke Special. They’re going to take you to the back, and from there you’ll be led into the basement. We don’t really know much else, so you’re on your own from that point.” Lastly, he hands you a small shortwave radio. “If you find yourself in any sort of trouble you can’t get out of, you can use this to reach out to me. Otherwise keep it off and hidden.” He pulled out a cigarette and twisted it between his fingers. “We’ll leave the way you approach this up to you. My personal recommendation is to play dumb, get in there, partake as a spectator, and survey the area. If you get an opportunity to look around, take it. Now, given that we don’t have all the details, you’ll need to get some of that information on your own before coming up with a game plan. Now get the hell out there and clean this city up.” He waved you toward the door.

You’ll need to decide if you are taking what the receptionist is offering or not.

- -

Arriving at Ralph’s wasn’t much of a hassle. The partially burnt out neon sign reads “AL BAR CUE”, but for some reason this actually gave the place a bit of charm. You could hear music playing loudly from behind the closed doors of the locale; it seemed to be particularly bustling tonight…

TheKnightsFury – The receptionist sighed as the man who called himself Balmund of Blackthorn City took his leave. He was clearly irritated by the amount of work you were giving him in regards to your heavy gear. Frankly, he was almost certainly more irritated by the fact that he had just run out of coffee, and the pot on the counter behind him was bone-dry. If you had to guess, it was most likely the only reason he hadn’t passed out where he stood. He rose up from his chair, hunched over, and let out a grunt. He pulled a small filing cart with an unhinged wheel out from underneath the counter. Piece by piece, he lifted your equipment into it. He slowly began to push the cart down the hall to his right. “Locker room,” he noted, nodding his head towards the direction he was walking. You apologized to him, but he shrugged his shoulders silently. “Just stay put for a moment. I’m going to need to debrief you further.”

The receptionist returned moments later with a cardboard box under his arm. He plopped it down onto the desk with an uncaring thud. He leaned one arm against the counter and scratched his five o’clock shadow with the other. “Alright, listen up, Jayson,” he grunted. “The job may say it’s Rank C, but truthfully the department isn’t entirely sure if this particular complaint is part of something potentially much bigger,” he said. He pulled a wooden chair out from behind him, without breaking eye contact, spun it around, draped himself across it legs spread, and leaned forward. “Because of the nature of the complaint, the department couldn’t justify a ranking higher than C. But as far as the higher ups are concerned, moving forward, you should be prepared for anything to happen. In all of our time dealing with the Ribs, we’ve learned that they can be unpredictable, and disjointed. Sometimes a call is just a couple of punks spray painting crude images onto the side of some abandoned house, and other times it’s a huge drug bust. Am I making sense?” he pinched the bridge of his nose. “What I am telling you is that, even though this is a Rank C mission, you need to go in with the mindset that this is something even higher. Because quite frankly, it could turn into that.” The receptionist stood up and kicked his chair to the side. He pulled open the box on the counter and revealed to you its contents. “Here. I want you to take these.”

He reached in. The first thing he pulled out was a small, shortwave radio no bigger than the palm of your hand. “Its range isn’t great, but given that you’re not going very far, it shouldn’t be a problem. Keep it safe, hidden, and turned off unless you really need it. I will be standing by on the receiver if you need anything or have any information to share – in fact, if you make any sort of discovery that becomes too much for you to handle, I expect you will inform us immediately, or else you’ll just end up like…” He cleared his throat. “Anyways. Onto the next items,” he said as he lifted some tattered garments out of the box. “Taking off your… whatever that junk was, and rustling up your hair a bit, isn’t going to be enough for you to blend in. With all due respect, you stand out like a Glameow in a litter of Rockruff.” He handed you a blue beanie, a muscle shirt, and worn out jeans. “These are the types of clothes our officers wear when they go undercover. Since you’re essentially doing just that, I highly suggest you put on at least some of these items. You’ll blend in more.” Finally, he lifted out a Pokeball. “This,” he said in a hushed tone, “is off the record. This one isn’t even sanctioned by the department. Only use this if you have no choice. Consider it a backup plan. If my boss finds out I am lending you this, I could lose my job. But,” his voice cracked a little. He cleared his throat. “I don’t want someone else disappearing because we didn’t take the necessary precautions.” He regained composure. It was odd; in the short time you’ve known him, this struck you as a particularly vulnerable side of the officer that you, perhaps, weren’t supposed to see. “I can’t stress it enough. Only use this Pokemon if you are out of options. Our work is supposed to be subtle, calculated, and efficient, something that this... is not.”

He walks you to the door. He seemed less irritated now, and more sympathetic. “If you need me, you know where to reach me. And by the way, you can call me Detective Ehrmantraut.”

You need to decide whether or not you have accepted your offered items, or if you will stow them away.

- - -

You arrived at Goldenridge Park with seemingly no complications. A few suspicious characters shot you some passing glances as you made your way to the park, but otherwise no problem. The tall, gated entry to the park was broken, one side hanging on loose hinges, slowly swaying in the wind. Three medium build men stood just past the gate leaning against a tree, smoking. They were stocky and lanky, and seemed somewhat on edge about something. They definitely looked like common street thugs, whatever common street thugs looked like. Behind them, you could see a bit into the park. From what you could tell, there was a half-standing playground, a gazebo next to an old well with broken ropes, and a small lake. Suddenly, one of the men takes notice of you, and the other two turn their attention toward you as well. They flick their cigarettes on the ground, stamp them out, and walk toward you slowly, smiling. One cracks his knuckles as a grin stretches across his face. “Well well well, boys,” one said, “looks like we’ve got company. I haven’t seen this one around here before! I always love a fresh face. Unless you’re a dirty Pignite, because then,” he motioned toward his pocket, patting it lightly, “we might have a problem. If you catch my drift. You get one shot at this, and one shot only, pal. Are you with us, or are you against us?”

Brave Saix - Being the third to choose your mission, you wait for the other two to leave the building before coming to a conclusion. One of the trainers was going to the park, and the other was going to be investigating the gambling ring in hopes of finding out if there was a connection between it and the nightclub. As soon as the trainers took their leave, you snatched the paper out of the clipboard. Jill excitedly took the paper from your hands and flapped it over to the receptionist, Officer Ehrmantraut. He slowly grabbed it from her claws, and then looked up to you. The unlit cigarette he had sitting between his lips fell out. He grimaced. “Kid. Are you sure you want to do this?” You nod excitedly. Your Noibat, Jill, lets out a screech of excitement and confidence. The receptionist sighed. He stood up. “So be it.”

He pulled a large file box from under his desk and dropped it onto the counter. This guy seems to have a lot of boxes under his desk. You wondered how much room was down there anyway. Oh well. “Listen up. We really do not know much about this case right now. Our intel is extremely limited, but that’s where you come in. The Shells have one big problem, and they’ve recently realized that: their numbers are dwindling. Because they are remnants of the city’s Team Rocket prior to its downfall, their numbers have only been decreasing with time due to members leaving, being arrested, or dying. So, they’ve opened up recruitment. They’re marketing themselves as the chemo for the Rib cancer, so to speak. They want to annihilate the Ribs and, in their ideal world, rule the town with an iron fist. The thing is though, they aren’t recruiting just anyone, at least not yet. They’re only recruiting family and friends of current or former Shells. And surprisingly, it’s working.” He began to boil a new pot of coffee. “Much of the town’s citizens are tired of the ongoing war between the Shells and the Ribs and would rather see a lawful-evil rule than a chaotic one full of vandalism and petty crime. In other words, a lot of people would prefer organized crime, believing it would clean the town back up.”

He slammed his fists onto the table, catching you and Jill of guard. “It’s such bullshit. We don’t need either of them. They BOTH need to go!” He was shaking and his face was beet red. He slowly reached for the cigarette he dropped, lit it, and then cleared his throat. “Anyway.” He lifted the lid of the file box. “Former Rocket member Thomas McLarty. KIA in a police operation seven years ago while robbing a bank. He was killed by one of our undercover agents on the scene when he nearly blew out some poor clerk’s brains. Saved her life, it did.” Ehrmantraut looked a little sad. “Turned out he was the sole provider for his younger brother James McLarty, who went into foster care after his brother was killed.” He turned to you, looking you up and down. “You’re about the right age now to be his brother, James. You see where I’m going with this?” He lifted an old Rocket shirt out of the box and handed it to you. “You’re not going to wear this, but you are going to keep it on you. “Once you arrive at the nightclub, you’re going to hand this to the guard, and tell them you’re James McClarty. You need to come up with a reason, but tell them you want to join. Whatever happens from that point forward is up to you – you’re on your own. We’re blind on this.”

He pulled out another bowl of Pokeballs, like he did earlier with another trainer, but this one was different. Each ball had a small label on it: Poliwrath, Hariyama, Gallade, Escavalier, Pangoro. “These are the department’s prized shared Pokemon. We don’t have many, but we save them for cases like this one. Please, take one with you. You will, of course, return it once your mission is successful… if it’s successful... but in the event that you get stuck between a rock and a hard place and decide you need backup, the option is there. Don’t get in over your head if you can help it. Ideally, you should not have to use the borrowed Pokemon at all. Going the entire mission without its use is both preferable and signifies you did not get put in a situation you couldn’t get out of, but regardless, we all need a backup plan.”

“Lastly, take this shortwave radio. If you are in an emergency, let me know immediately. It’s small enough to hide, so keep it somewhere hidden and safe. Now get going. And come back alive. We need that Pokemon back.”

He insists you borrow a Pokemon for backup and sends you on your way to the Delphroxx Nightclub…
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