Wes took his time sitting up. The smoke wafting around his nose was nauseating, but the spinning was far worse. He groaned, trying to massage away all the dizzying colors from his vision. âUgh, ffffuck...,â was what he thought he was saying. The shellshock wasnât letting him hear much of anything beyond a high-pitched ringing. He sense of touch was fine, though, and right now he felt several paws walking all over him.
Tarotâs nose was the first in his face, followed quickly by Jericoâs. They took turns sniffing at him until Wes gently pushed them aside. As what was left of his hearing returned, the first thing he heard was their worried whining. Trying to settle them did nothing, so he left them to calm themselves while he assessed the damage.Â
Given that the old hovel was already empty and abandoned when he started, the bomb only made the place look singed. Looking at himself, on the other hand, was a far different story. From what he could make out in the broken glass on the ground, his brows had been saved thanks to his visor, but his hair was singed. That and a few cuts dotting his cheeks was the extent of the damage on his face and head. The rest of his body was far worse; he could feel shrapnel digging into him in several places, large gashes in others.
Despite all the injuries, his all-terrain coat had kept it from being much worse, and it showed. Whatever wasnât protected by the Snag Machine looked like it had been through a shredder, with the other shoulder taking the most punishment. It was almost literally hanging together by threads.
Wes frowned. The cuts would heal (or scar), and his hair would grow back, but his coat wouldnât stitch itself. âMan...â The nearing echo of sirens dragged Wesâ attention away from his coat and towards the door, quietly ditching the rat hole and melding back into Lumioseâs back streets. Normally, his appearance let him blend into any seedy area, but today it attracted new attention. Punks and delinquents asking if he was ok, if cops did it, if said cops were near, and so on. He tuned most of it out and kept moving, until one rather pushy guy mentioned something about going to see someone for his coat at least.Â
Asking for more information led him to a small apartment hidden in another corner of Lumiose. Wes wondered if this guy would even be around, but as luck would have it, he saw somebody in front of the door he was told to go to.
âHey,â he called to the other, striding up with his Eeveelutions in tow. âI heard you can fix clothes.â He gestured to the tattered thing he was wearing now. âYâmind takinâ a look at this?â
Trust me, there are plenty of labels to apply. âFine,â he said, gritting his teeth after speaking. He put a hand on Hellhoundâs neck, hoping it would calm her down and make her cease the growling. He needed to cooperate with this Wes, at least until his property was safely back in the lab.
She did stop at the feel of her trainerâs palm, and after Michael gave her a final pat, he came to a stop in front of a door. Beyond it was a room with equipment he was allowed near and capable of using. âSo, mind telling me what you have there? We should try examining it in as much detail as possible.â
As he spoke, he placed his palm flat on the scanner beside the door. After some blinking lights and a beep, the door slid open with a small hiss. âBy the way, in case youâre not sure how this works, this is how most people enter a room.â The snide comment was left hanging behind him as he walked in, heading over to fiddle with a microscope.
Velvet had hung a bit farther back than Hellhound, and now he turned to look at the other Espeon, ears twitching slightly out of curiosity. He remained there a few seconds before flicking his ears again and going off to brush against Michaelâs legs.Â
âWell ainât you the generous type,â Wes replied in a deadpan tone as he strode right past Michael to the equipment, maybe intentionally or non-intentionally knocking the other off-balance as he made his path. Tarot and Jerico followed, the former swishing his tail up until it landed in a flick in the other Espeonâs direction. âBetween this nâ handinâ over the keys tâ this whole place to that dodgy no-name new guy, Iâm blown away nobodyâs taken advantage of you guys yet.â
Spotting what he wanted, Wes grabbed the large magnifier and laid the pen and blueprints under it. He toyed with the knobs and dials until the teeny print came into view, though the faded letters meant he still had to squint a little to make out what it said. âHm...Ik..uno...Corp.â He lifted his head up from the magnifier and pocketed the pen and blueprint. âIkuno Corp. huh? I remember that old place; they left years ago. No wonder they picked it.â
With his next location now clear, Wes wasted no time making for the exit. Tarot and Jerico were already waiting near the door for Wes, anxious to get to their new destination. âWelp there you go kid, Ikuno Corp. Front entrance. See ya in a few.â
He really didnât like that smirk. Resisting the urge to take a step back as the other approached, Michael began to reach for the proffered items until they were rudely pulled away.
Yeah, Iâll fucking play along, he wanted to growl. But he held it in, taking a deep breath and letting it hiss out through his teeth, staring right back into the manâs eyes. âFine,â he said tersely. âIâll play nice as long as you do.â Hellhound snarled at his side, as if well aware of her trainerâs real feelings on the matter. Sighing, he added, âFollow me and we can find someone to analyze what youâve got there.â
A few steps farther along, with Velvet and Hellhound trotting along at his sides, Michael muttered, âBut you better at least apologize for the damages.â Paying for them would be ideal but for some reason he doubted that was about to happen.
âYou know,â he said, speaking up over his shoulder with the expectation that his unwelcome âguestâ was following along, âI need something to call you by.â Apart from âthe dick who blew a hole in our wall.â
âHeh...â That was all the comment Wes had to give on Michaelâs âresponseâ. It was small and soft, but his grin seemed to make it very loud. The snarl coming from the Houndoom didnât drag Wesâ eyes away from watching its Trainer, but it was enough to agitate Tarot. The narrow-eyed hiss he gave back didnât channel his own masterâs feelings though; it was merely a simple reminder, a reminder to âknow your place.â It was something both the Eevee brothers respected themselves, as they didnât make another noise after that.
They only followed their Trainer dutifully now, flanking him on either side. Wes himself had not shown much change in emotion, only choosing to focus on not letting the brat leave his sight. He hadnât even noticed the alarms had been turned off, a sure sign that investigators were here now.Â
âYou know, I need something to call you by... Iâm Michael.â
â...Hah.â Wes raised his hands up in a nonchalant shrug. âYou missed a golden chance tâjust label me there, but since you wanna play it nice, my nameâs Wes.â
Michael got a shade paler as the criminal spoke. Was he that recognizable? Or had heâyeah, heâd said something about the Snag Machine, hadnât he? He knows me. He knows me. Shit.
The concern was short-lived, however, as he stumbled a step back from the shove and repeated âPoster boy?â to himself in a disgruntled mutter. The rest of what heâd said didnât register before the force of the noise made Michael flinch back.
By the time heâd gotten reoriented, the guy and his Pokemon were long gone, but giving chase didnât find them too far. He stopped a few paces away as the fake scientist poofed, swearing up a storm to himself before approaching the remaining thief. It seemed pretty clear that the two hadnât been accomplices, at least.
As the remaining man turned around, Michael crossed his arms, rooting himself to the spot. âWeâre done here? Oh no weâre not. You still blew a hole in our wall and were trying to rob us; youâre not going anywhere. And if you know something about where the other guy mightâve gone you better fucking tell me, becauseââ Because why, exactly? He hadnât been able to trounce the guy in battle so easily, and for some reason Michael doubted the other would care much about any threats he might try and make.
So he sighed, letting his arms fall. âBecause itâs really bad whoever took it has it and clearly you donât want him having it either, right?â Granted, this man probably wanted it for himself⊠Still, worth a shot. If he didnât cooperate, maybe Michael was stalling him enough for the useless authorities to get here. âItâs mine, and I really canât have it in the wrong hands. So are you gonna tell me what youâve got there or do we have to fight for it?â
Wesâ expression increasingly dulled every moment this kid ranted on. Tarot was yawning, and Jericoâs ears flicked impatiently. Wes was going to allow him to go as far as finishing his threat before he loosed a smoke bomb in his face to make his escape. Yet, as Wes kept his ears trained for the weak-handed threat, none came.
He raised both brows slightly when the bratâs arms drooped in seeming defeat. Both his Pokemonâs ears were now pointed forward as well.
âBecause itâs really bad whoever took it has it and clearly you donât want him having it either, right?â
An amused half-smile flashed on his lips for a split-second, but he didnât speak. Not just yet anyway.
âItâs mine, and I really canât have it in the wrong hands. So are you gonna tell me what youâve got there or do we have to fight for it?â
The kidâs plea sparked a thought in his head, causing his eyes to brighten a little. A large smirk spread slowly across his face as he approached the kid.
âWell, sâlike you said kid,â he began with a small shrug. âSeems we got a common enemy righânow.â He held up the blueprint paper and pen, beginning to offer it up to the brat. âSo I guess Iâm willinâ to play along...â He yanked the clues away and out of reach at the last moment, making sure his yellow eyes were directly aimed at the kidâs.Â
Charles sighed and popped the collar on his jacket up a bit. He was used to places that were more ⊠refined than this, but illicit dealings rarely took place in classy wineries. And he was looking for someone specific. That was assuming the descriptions heâd pieced together of the man happened to be accurate.Â
Suzâs golden eyes glowed in the darkness and she mewled up at him, âBri?â
âItâs alright,â he reassured. âI know youâll protect me if things go south, wonât you?â
âBreon~â
He walked into the bar, the umbreon on his heels. Her ears twitched and Charlesâ eyes scanned the room. Both of them stuck out like sore thumbs, and everyone within seemed familiar enough with each other to notice outsiders immediately. The attention set his teeth on edge.
The man he was looking for sat by himself at the bar. He approached him and coughed lightly to get his attention. âAre you Wes?â
Wes paused for a moment before slowly swiveling his bar stool around to properly face the rest of himself towards this Trainer. The rest of the patrons had returned to their own business now, save for a few prying ears. Unfortunately for them, they didnât have much to listen to so far.Â
â...Yeah.â His reply was somewhat vacant as Wes realized just how snazzy this guy looked. Combined with his obvious unfamiliarity, Wes could practically read ârichâ across his forehead. â...You sure seem like yâwent outta your way tâfind me.â
Though twice his size, Charizard growled at the fellow reptilian pokemon. Wipe that smug little grin off your face, he appeared to say, but Red wasnât too focused on the rising, one-sided tension between their pokemon. In fact, he was more concerned with what this pokemonâs trainer had to say.
Wes planted his boot firmly on the manâs back the moment he stepped out of The Underâs elevator. The other he had used to help trip him and send him straight into Orreâs sand, face-first. Tarot and Jericoâs presence gave the helpless Orreian all the incentive he needed to not budge from under Wesâ scrawny weight while the master thiefâs glare dug into him.
â...So,â Wes began slowly, a dark grin growing on his face, âYou gave us a little bit of a ride there before, tryâna give us the slip in The Under nâall.â Wes pressed his boot deeper into the manâs back as he spoke, forcing a grunt of acknowledgement out of him. Wes could even make out the dried blood on his face and clothes now, reassuring him he had the right man. âBut you never were all that good at losing the cops in Snagem, either, huh?â
âC-cut the shit and tell me what you want already, Wes.â The grunt spat out of the side of his mouth. âI ainât never even bugged you when we was in Snagem; I donât got no issue with you now, so what the hell?â
Wes shifted his bootâs weight to the former Snagem goonâs head, forcing his mouth into the sand. âYou ainât all that great at lyinâ too, I guess.â Wes knelt down on one knee, shifting his boot back to sitting on the manâs back while he yanked his head up by the back of his collar. âYou know damn well you got a problem with me, or, I guess itâd technically be your new boss, huh?â
The man said nothing in response, but Wes noticed his jaw had set. âHe sent you to find me, right? Make an example aâme for âstealinâ his super special productâ huh? Am I gettinâ close here?â
â...I-I, ghh, I--â
Patience now completely gone, Wes released his collar and gripped a large chunk of his hair, starting to slowly pull farther and farther backwards. âYou nâ your dumbass friends are tryinâ tâmake Shadow Pokemon to sell to people.â There was a rare edge in Wesâ voice as he spoke, his grip on the manâs hair getting increasingly tighter. âBut guess what? You suck at it. Not that thatâs stopped you from selling your fakes to people already, but--â
âA-alright alright, fine! So what!? Since when does a thief like you care about scams?!â The man finally interjected between clenched teeth. âI-Iâm just a seller anyway, I donât make âem! Go after those guys!â
âOh sure sure, man. Just tell me where you go to pick up your âsupplyâ and you can go cry right back tâGonzap again.â
Before the seller could speak, though, both he and Wes noticed a shadow rapidly growing around them. Jerico and Tarot were the first to see it, alerting Wes to its source, flying above them. With a small sigh, Wes stood up, making sure not to let go of his only link to this operationâs boss.
âIâm busy here, Superboy.â Wes turned and raised a hand dismissively. âGo play hero somewhere else.â
It would be best if he just sent out Venom, as Silver Wind would be able to fell both the Espeon and Umbreon at this guyâs disposalâŠ
He was reluctant to turn away from the intruder and the battleâone he wasnât about to automatically win, no lessâbut seeing the would-be thiefâs expression it was obvious something had gone wrong, and Michael needed to know what. He turned just as the guy rushed past him, in time to see the door clang shut, leaving them trapped inside.
Right before it closed, he caught sight of the newest lab assistant holding what had to be his Snag Machine. The latest addition to the staff had been skittish around Michael since he joined, but the teen had assumed it was because heâd yet to be friendly. Whispering âfuckâ to himself, Michael hurled the fake at the sealed door, narrowly missing the otherâs head.
Hearing his comment made Michael hiss in reply, âWell damn, excuse me. Most people arenât asshole enough to blow holes in the placeâs walls in the middle of the night.â Raising his voice a little, he continued, âJust who the hell do you think you are anyways, trying to steal my Snag Machine? And whoâs the other guy, huh?â
This was bad. Really bad. Currently the machine could only work on Shadow Pokemon, which no longer existed, but chances were it could be tampered with. And seeing as the accompanying Aura Reader was still sitting in the bottom of a locked drawer in his room, its location known only to him, that was probably the intent.
âYou have any idea how fucking horrible this situation is? Oh, of course you do; it would be no better in your hands either, would it?â
Wes ignored the teen as he ranted on, focusing on sticking the bomb to the wall and getting it ready to detonate. As he started dialing in the time, a single part of the kidâs shpeal stuck in Wesâ ear.
â...trying to steal MY Snag Machine?...â
Wes paused his dialing for a brief moment as the sluggish gears in his head turned. Once the momentary surprise of his revelation was over, he could feel a small, half-amused smirk cross his lips. He finished priming the bomb with a slow shake of his head, turning back around towards the teen.
âKid,â he began with a snort, âif you still dunno what a real asshole can be after beatinâ Cipher, youâre more sheltered nâ the whole Under was.â
Pulling out his handheld detonator, Wes shoved the âheroâ back as he walked. âNow get back before yâget that empty head aâ yours blown to bits. Wouldnât be good if Orreâs newest poster boy had a nasty accident likeâat huh?â Not waiting for a response nor giving any warning himself, Wes casually pressed the detonator. The small âdeetâ the bomb made a split second before its eardrum-rupturing explosion was nearly drowned out by the still whining alert sirens.
Wesâ two Eeveelutions were the first out the blown-off doorway, and Wes was soon to follow. The three zipped down the main hallway, running blindly in the general direction they saw the fake scientist fleeing before the door was engaged. Luckily for Wes, he didnât need to look far. The scientist was parked against a corner, fumbling to open a Poke Ball and not immediately aware Wes was about to go for his collar.
Unfortunately, what Wes gripped was the manâs labcoat collar. He wasted no time in promptly fumbling out of it with a terrified squeal as he finally summoned his Pokemon, an Abra. It seemed trained, or at the very least informed of what it was supposed to do when it was summoned out of its Poke Ball, for it immediately Teleported itself and the thief away.
â...Tch, fuckinâ weasel,â Wes spat between grit teeth. He mentally began to resign himself for a long and annoying chase around Orre for the guyâs location when he felt something strange. He was still clutching the manâs coat in his clenched hand, and he felt some weight on one side when he shook it.Â
Pulling the coat up to reach inside its pocket, Wes found a few various science baubles, a pen, and a large scroll of crumpled paper. He dropped the coat on the ground as he unfolded the piece of paper, revealing a map of the facility. That was standard practice for basic thieves, though, and it wasnât what was holding Wesâ interest. It was the paper itself, which had an unusual design on it, that had Wesâ attention. The color and texture of it seemed like blueprints. The pen, upon closer inspection, also had a similar design--but with text as well. He squinted to see if he could read it, but the lettering was too small. âHuh...â
Satisfied with what heâd found, he turned around to find the exit, only to find Mr. Hero on his heels again instead. The annoying siren filled the pause between them. â...Well what dâyou want now?â Wes spoke nonchalantly with a raised brow. âWeâre pretty much done here.â
âšThe Basics âŹ
â„Legal Name: Wesley (he like was never even called this from the beginning, not even by his mother lol)
â„Nickname/Alias: Wes
â„Birthday: idk lol
â„Birthplace: Celadon City, Kanto
â„Sex | Gender | Species: Cis Male, Human
â„Preferred Pronouns: He/His
â„Sexual Orientation: Asexual
â„Spoken Languages: Whatever Orre speaks, which I assume is English or Japanese.
âšA History LessonâŹ
â„Education: LOL
â„Who were they in school?: The wild but well meaning child who inevitably still caused a lot of damage and trouble
â„Occupation: Thief for hire/sometimes bounty hunter
â„Occupation they wanted as a child:Â Anything that he could get hired for legally
â„Socioeconomic level growing up: Below Poverty
â„Socioeconomic level now: Probs still technically poorish/low middle class
â„Living conditions growing up: Dirt poor. The end.
â„Living conditions now: Wherever he stops to sleep for the night.
â„Criminal Record: [pulls out large book] Have fun reading that.
âšRelationshipsâŹ
â„Parents: Vince (Father), Emi (Mother)
â„Siblings: None.
â„Significant Others: Rui.
â„Ex-Significant Others: None.
â„Children: None
â„Best Friends: Rui
â„Pets: His Pokemon
â„Rivals: Michael
â„Enemies: A lot lol (Cipher, Snagem, police, etc.)
âšLetâs Get PhysicalâŹ
â„Characterâs Build: Tall, lanky, underweight, all muscle for what he actually has on him
â„Height: 6 ft. 1.5 in.
â„Hair Colour: Ash blonde
â„Eye Colour: yellow
â„Body Modifications: Gang tattoos on his shoulders.
â„Scars/Birthmarks: Various small scars over his body from scuffles or dumb stunts he attempted.
â„Physical or Mental Illnesses: Dunno. I feel like he has something but nothing too big I donât think.
â„Addictions: None.
âšThe Juicy StuffâŹ
â„Vice: Lust / Greed / Gluttony / Sloth / Pride / Envy / Wrath
â„Virtue: Chastity / Temperance / Charity / Diligence / Forgiveness / Humility / Kindness
â„Religion: None.
â„Alignment: Â Lawful / Neutral / Chaotic || Good / Neutral / Evil
â„Hogwarts House: Once again idk lol Slytherin or Gryffindor? I am shooting in the dark here
â„Element: Earth Sandbender ftw
â„Character Tropes: Cool Shades, Badass Vigilante
Hellhound snarled, stumbling back a few paces and shaking her head in an attempt to clear away the Toxicâs substance. Michael narrowed his eyes, about to make a retort in response when the Hyper Voice drowned everything out.
âFor fuckâs sakeââ He couldnât even hear himself think, nevermind talk. Still, watching the intruder reach toward his Snag Machine, he raised his voice: âVelvet! Get it to me, now!â
Nobody was allowed to touch his shit without permission. It didnât matter if it was Jovi âborrowingâ a CD or some asshole with surprisingly strong Pokemon trying to steal a valuable piece of technology from the Pokelab.
Velvet had recovered from the glass-shattering attack much faster than either Hellhound or Michael, and was well prepared to Psychic over the Snag Machine. It was in Michaelâs hands within seconds, and as soon as it was in his grasp, he was slipping it on.
âHellhound, Flamethrower. Get rid of the Umbreon.â It would take more than just one hit to bring it down, most likely, but Michael could be patient if necessary.
But Michael barely even registered as the room was lit by flame, his face now slack with shock before his expression turned to one of fury. âOkay, what the hell sort of sick joke is this!?â
This wasnât his Snag Machine. This wasnât his Snag Machine at all. It didnât fit his arm properly, the finish was far too shiny, and worst of all, it wasnât activating despite his attempts to turn the device on.
As frustrating as having an opponent survive an attack was, he couldnât help but let a small, genuinely amused smirk cross his face for a moment as the Machine was pulled past his eyes. It conflicted with his knee jerk hostility of being denied something heâs after, but he couldnât help it. He just couldnât help but get a little excited.
The fun would have to wait, though; he was still running on borrowed time, after all. Once the flames had died down from the Houndoomâs attack, which Jerico had casually shrugged off, Wes was ready to simply steal the device back.Â
âOkay, what the hell sort of sick joke is this!?â
Wes immediately paused, noticing the Trainerâs contorted expression. He raised a hand for his Pokemon to hold while he squinted at the device. The paint, the unusual sound the âmetalâ made as the kid fiddled with it, the way the light reflected off of it...heâd seen the stunt before.
Immediately after, his gaze wandered past the Trainer to a small figure in the hallway--a scientist, it looked like. He was rubbing his head and trying to regain his balance, if Wes had to guess, from Tarotâs Hyper Voice. His other hand seemed to be clutching something shiny. Almost like a metal arm...
The realization in Wesâ face must have made the faux scientistâs heart skip when he took notice of the thief; he practically slammed his head into the control panel with how fast he skittered towards it. Unfortunately for Wes, the fear hadnât made his frantic finger punching any less accurate. Within seconds, the only door leading out of the room was sealed by a heavy metal door. Wes had barreled right through the Trainer and his partners just fast enough to pound his fist on the door the moment it came down.
âYour securityâs the joke,â Wes replied flatly as he quickly began to fish out a sticky bomb.
Michael was still wide awake when the sirens started, but that didnât make it any less disruptive. The lab wasnât known for running test alarms, especially not in the dead of night, so this had to be serious. And seeing as it was likely an intruder, and he was the labâs best battlerâŠ
Well, it was a good thing he wasnât groggy.
Velvet and Hellhound were already out by the time Michael entered the hall, scanning his surroundings carefullyâceiling included, just in case. The Purification Chamber couldnât exactly be robbed, so that left one likely target: his Snag Machine. He hurried towards the room it was housed, stopping only when he saw the figure outlined in a red glow.
He didnât have much time to process who it might be before a desk was hurtling at him, but a quick call to Velvet and his own Psychic halted it midflight. It crashed to the ground and fell to pieces.
âHellhound, take it out.â The Houndoom bolted in front of Velvet, getting between him and the opponentâs Umbreon while taking aim at the intruding Espeon to launch a Shadow Ball. Crunch would have felled it quicker, but keeping Velvet defended was easier if Hellhound didnât rush forward to get physical.
âYou know, some people here were trying to sleep.â He might not have been one of them, but a thief showing up in the early hours of the morning still ticked Michael off.
Jerico leapt in front of Tarot to take the Shadow Ball attack, shoving the opposing Houndoom back a little as he did.
âYou know, some people here were trying to sleep.â
âYeah?â Wes responded with false curiosity in his voice as he directed Jerico to spit a Toxic attack into the Houndoomâs eyes. Meanwhile, Tarotâs ears folded back as he took in a deep breath.
âIâm tryinâ tâfind the part where Iâm sâposed tâgive a fuck.â A piercing Hyper Voice rang out from Tarotâs comparatively small body, shaking the very walls of the room and blasting the Trainer and his Pokemon backwards. Still keeping his eyes forward, Wes began to stretch an arm behind him to grab the Snag Machine. He didnât need to hear to know that the Hyper Voice had most certainly shattered the glass casing.
Wesâ shadow was bathed in a strong dark red as he hurried down the hallway. The blaring siren echoing through the facility drowned out any other sound there was to be heard, be it footsteps or the sounds of defeated Pokemon falling to the floor. A slight breeze was blowing in from the gaping hole Wes had just blown in the Pokemon HQ wall, causing the tails of his coat to flutter behind him as he went. Tarot and Jerico were right in front of him, continuing to clear the way of opposing security as the three went.
âWhere is it?â Wes grumbled to himself as Tarot threw another Pokemon out of the way with its Psychic. He scoped another wing out; nothing. Shaking his head with frustration, he slipped back into the main hallway to check another branch. âI donât have all night...â
Just as he finished his last gripe, a small room on the adjacent side of the intersecting hall caught his attention. When he went inside to check, he found a small, silver machine sitting in a sealed, clear case near a workbench. Blinking for a moment, he glanced down at the device on his arm and then back up. â...Thatâs the new Snag Machine model?â Shrugging after a short pause, he prepared to bust open the case and take his leave. Several small footsteps behind him, though, forced Wes back around.
He didnât so much as twitch at what he saw--just another teen lab assistant and his Pokemon, he assumed.Â
â...Hurry up nâ get âem outta here,â he ordered with a dismissive hand wave. Immediately, Tarot and Jerico grouped near each other and tensed their bodies, ready for another battle. Tarot was the first to move, using his Psychic to pick up a nearby desk and hurl it at them.
Charizard hated three things: trainers who abandon their pokemon, cheaters, and showing weakness. Right now, the pokemon was showing off a tremendous weak side.
He heard a distantly familiar click from below and he figured it was Him calling him back down, but it wasnât. Oh no, it was nowhere near his own pokeball. His tiny ears caught a pop and he tried swatting it away with his tail. One ray of light began to pull him in and the fire-typeâs attempt at throwing it off was a failure. Then, the second, third, and fourth rays wrapped around his wings, his legs, his arms. He roared. His eyes finally met his trainerâs.
Wes raised a brow at the Charizardâs literal nose flaring but maintained his deadpan, quickly looking between it and his Trainer. âMan, Iâm that terrible to you, huh?â He mused with a snort as he summoned Mesa, casually leaning on the Tyranitar while it sized up the Charizard with a hungry smile. It was only visible on its face for a moment though; Sand Stream quickly enveloped the small room in a fierce sandstorm, much to the other patronsâ surprise and displeasure.
He pulled out a second Poke Ball, spinning it around lazily in his hand as he kept on eye on the Trainer and the other on his target. Mesaâs taunting and goading would only phase the opponentâs Pokemon for so long; meanwhile, it was Mesaâs very presence that was making Wesâ target blindly stumble for the exit.
âLook, if yâwanna play hero...â Wes spoke slowly as he wound up the Poke Ball in his Snagging hand, exchanging a glance with Mesa from behind his shades. His muscles tensed as he prepared to wind up again. â...Why donâtcha waste your time goinâ after a real bad guy?âÂ
Not a second passed Wesâ statement before he did an unexpected heel turn away from them and lobbed the ball at the stumbling man. It bounced off his head with a bone-fracturing âcrackâ, releasing Lucky. The Togekiss instantly reacted by looping around the stunned man and back towards the Charizard, seizing its attention with Follow Me. Mesa had already put his Protect up to give Wes and Lucky the cover and time they had needed to pull the whole move off.Â
Once Lucky had Charizardâs attention, Mesa quickly scooped Wes up in one hand and slammed his tail on the brittle metal tile. The flooring practically melted beneath Mesaâs strength, causing all of the tavernâs contents to pour down into the abandoned flat below them. The Tyranitar landed with a gunshot-like âpowâ and dropped his Trainer next to him. Wes glanced back to where he had struck the man, expecting to find him where heâd left him. Instead, he followed the sound of frantic skittering to the view of the bleeding thug hoisting himself up from a ledge he had clung to and out the exit.Â
â...Dammit.â Time already against him now, Wes sprinted through the ratty old hole where a door once was and out into the Underâs streets. Lucky swooped down and followed him out, helping with scanning the neon paths for any sign of his target before the Trainer caught up with them.Â
jacobvanloon
tangentwithtanner
amandla
titsay
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