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Old 04-26-2018, 04:06 PM   #279
Brains over Brawn.
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Originally Posted by TheKnightsFury View Post
Raves- The whole situation erupts as you threaten the scientist and issue orders to your Pokemon. Spriggan immediately launches a small seed from his bulb, sticking it to the Arboks body as thin vines quickly sprout and begin to drain its vitality. Bel releases a sweet scent, it fails to penetrate the glass tank but it does capture the attention of the sickly Ralts inside. Its attack somewhat neutered by Bel's intimidating display, the Arbok remains aggressive as it lunges at Spriggan. It sinks its fangs into the Pumpkasaur's soft flesh, crunching down hard as the Grass type lets out a cry of pain.

With the Arbok still biting down hard, Spriggan attempts to wriggle free as he fires a barrage of razor leaves. The first few leaves pepper the Arbok, causing it to recoil in annoyance. The rest of the leaves bombard the collection tank, eventually managing to create a large gash in the metal causing the pink narcotic to spill onto the floor. The scientist erupts in a spray of swears, it was clear to him now that the entire operation was ruined. Bel sinks the teeth of her horns into the top of the glass tank, it groans as the teeth chip away at the glass. The Mawile eventually manages to pry the top off the tank and quickly turns to toss it at the scientist. The enraged man is completely blindsided, the tank smashes into the side of the his head, knocking him unconscious. The Ralts stir within the tank, they weren't strong enough to get out, but at least the man that tormented them was down for the count.

The Arbok barely falters as it's trainer collapses, more than capable of holding its own without someone to command it. It lunges at Spriggan again, this time with fangs bathed in flames. The Pumpkasaur flinches as the searing teeth tear at him. The Ralts that is still strapped to the table begins to convulse, the toxic poison was intensifying.

"We need to help that Ralts and finish off that Arbok", orders Jake, although he really isn't in a position to do so considering you've been doing everything.
Things had went as well as they could, considering. With Spriggan engaging the cobra, the pumpkin Bulbasaur ensnared the serpent with seeds that would gradually wear it down, and despite a forceful counterattack the still healthy grass pokemon undid the scientist's nefarious work with some well aimed leaves. Leaves that happened to shred the tank of tears collected as the grey haired fool ranted and raved. Bel's approach to the situation didn't start as well, given the case. The glass tank had blocked the sweet scent, yet had the attention of the weakened psychic pokemon within as the Mawile gave a nod, urging them to remain low. Grasping the cage in jaws, the cracking of glass as his vice grip tightened failed to shatter, which was perfect.

The scientist, oblivious to Bel, was taken completely by surprise as the fairy whirled around and launched the cell into him, crashing against his head and knocking him clean out. "Well aimed, Bel," Hephae responded, entertained that the main command was down for the count. However, the Arbok was still a threat even without him, as the fire fang proved to the grass type. Worse, the Ralts on the table convulsed as the poison wore away at its vitality, and Jake's call to her gave her only a brief moment of pause.

"Jake. You have free hands, retrieve the Ralts from what remains of the cell, and I shall contend with the one on the table. Spriggan, seize the snake's throat with a vine whip and throttle it until it releases you, at which point repeat our guard's anaesthetic tactic by spraying another dose of sleep powder into its open maw. Bel, provide offensive assistance to our ally by showing just what a crunch should look like at the tail end while Spriggan tries to free herself before keeping your grip and suplexing it with a seismic toss into the wall. After that, both of you will ensure that it stays down with a take down and iron head combination to the gut and face respectively."

With commands given, the woman waited for an opportunity to cross to the table, antidote (1 of 10) in hand, seeking to administer the spray before releasing the captive empath from the straps. And if the fool were to rouse and try and stop her, she'd simply make good on her promise to slug him one.

At any rate, that held key in hand ought to leave an imprint.
Stale Water.

Unruly Premonition.
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