[WAR] Role Play: Terminus

[Lord Celebi]

The WAR RP will take place in this thread. To sign-up, check out our Sign-Up thread!

Gamemasters: Saraibre Ryu and Lord Celebi
Judge: Saraibre Ryu

[Neo Emolga]

Noah "Neo" Ashfield
Slateport City, Hoenn
Affected RPers: N/A

Slateport City. Sunny beaches, marinas, dockyards, and the temperature was currently 93F outside. Ha, you'd never think the world was chin-deep in warfare and anarchy! That was until you got to the main part of town, and Hoenn military troopers were stationed left and right, asking for civilian papers and ID cards. I had those forged over a week ago, going by the name "Daniel Smith." It was barely a jump from John Doe.

Hoenn was currently fighting with Orre, although a whole slew of other nations hated this place ever since Hoenn got their hands on the Burst Hearts., bragged about it, and started setting tariffs on a whole bunch of stupid things. Leave it to Hoenn to get pig-headed and stupid after something like that.

I wanted to get a good assessment of what kinds of naval ships they had in the area. Kind of like window shopping, only I had not a single damn intention of paying a buck for these. The other reason I was there was to see if they had an extra supply of Burst Hearts for their navy soldiers. Hoenn tried to keep them off the black market, but the one I already had in my bag was a good indication of how much they totally failed with that attempt, heh.

And then there was another security checkpoint. Boy, these chumps really didn't like Orre, I could tell.

"Papers, please," The guard told me.

"Uh huh, yeah," I told him, showing him the ID card and the forged D7 documents. "Hot day out."

"What's your official business in Slateport, Mister Smith?" The guard asked me.

"Thinking of doing some souvenir shopping, maybe grab a slice of pizza for lunch, grab a chocolate cone afterword, check out the aquarium..."

See, it was my personal mission to ensure I made asshats like this guy really hate his job. You want to regulate that much crap for stupid reasons? Be my guest, but I'll make your life a personal hell for it. So yeah, I began to fantasize how I'd spend the day like a two-bit tourist in front of this guy, hold up the line, and then he just snapped.

"Fine, move on through, we have people waiting!"

Raoooww! I just waved goodbye to Princess Pissy Pants and got to work on my real task at hand.

---

Janine "Angel" Price
AMS Deathwing, Mirage Island, Hoenn
Affected RPers: N/A

We needed projects, and projects cost money, and Aqua needed a way to make big money and fast. And boy, did I have just the thing! And there were enough dumbnuts all over the planet that would fall for this. Little Missy has a cute lil' Eevee and she would just be dreadfully depressed if that lil' Eevee-weevey wasn't so super happy-wappy at all times! Yeah, those were the kinds of people I wanted to royally screw over.

The idea was to create a kind of candy that was actually a drug in disguise. With all of the governments fighting over stupid things, ha, trying to enforce petty food and drug regulations on candy was the least of their concern. They were more out to fight over Burst Hearts, Dracaria, or some other nonsense that they'd overlook the little guys with the big plans. When enemies are looking down at you with big weapons and giant armies, yeah, a little bag of Sugar Tarts ain't going to be on your priority list!

I called it PokéTarts. It was a cute, colorful candy in the shapes of pink hearts, orange stars, yellow moons, green clovers, blue diamonds, and purple horseshoes. They were sweet and sugary, and they had drugs in them that made Pokémon happy and elated. A little like human ecstasy. And the great part was, to Pokémon, it had a very addictive quality, but experienced diminishing returns. Soon enough, one PokéTart wasn't enough to keep a Pokémon happy. They'd need two now to keep up the elation. Then three. Then four. Then entire freaking bags to keep the spoiled brats happy. And if they didn't get their sweet, sugary fix of ultra happiness, they suffered withdrawal, and that included making a Pokémon depressed enough to binge eat! So if little Missy didn't keep spending her life savings on making her little Eevee happy with entire bulk wholesale purchases of PokéTarts, the little runt was going to pig out and become one monstrously obese blobby balloon of lardy lamentation. Ha ha, the governments wouldn't even blink until it became a worldwide epidemic, and it would be too late then. I just needed to make it crystal clear that people on Team Aqua should not give their own Pokémon these PokéTarts NO MATTER WHAT. If they did, they sure were stupid.

But I saved that mayhem for my off-time. Team Aqua wanted me to research and design a little toy they called The Liquidator, using stolen plans of a military railgun. Basically, Team Aqua wanted The Liquidator to be a gatling version of it like some kind of giant, vulcan minigun of death, hatred, anarchy, pain, humiliation, and destruction. Ha ha, sounded like the names I've give to a batch of Growlithe puppies just for fun!

They needed a working blueprint and schematic design of the superweapon. So, it just meant spending a few hours engineering a CAD model and compensating for junk like recoil, overheating, ammo feed, and all the other crap that went into it. Trivial stuff. Then it had to be run through simulation software to make sure the thing works and didn't pop apart.

In the meantime, Team Aqua wanted superior armored vehicles. I came up with the clever idea to just combine tanks, APCs, and AA stuff into one. It seemed stupid that hadn't been done in the first place! Again, it was a matter of starting with some concept art, but once we found a few designs and possibilities we wanted to take further, bingo, we were going to work with that.

And lastly, there was something called Project MEND they wanted me to help with, but they were keeping it pretty under wraps for now. MEND... yeah, kinda makes you wonder what it might be referring to, but I shrugged and figured I'd learn about it in time.

[Akaida]

Zach Pierce
Outside of Rustsurf Tunnel
Affected RPers: None

Zach and his squad of former Hoenn Special Forces had made camp along side the top of Rusturf tunnel which was covered in trees and other foliage that allowed for them to be so close. Zach, who had spent most of his childhood travelling and in cities, enjoyed being in the outdoors. The smell of the trees and feel of the dirt next to the warmth of the small fire reminded him of a happier time, when his biological father had taken him camping. About twenty years later, Zach was a much different person, and any hope of returning to that life ended with the death of his parents. Now he sat in the night, contemplating the parameters of his mission revolving what is now a widely used and popular tunnel. While years had been spent on it, eventually the Pokemon were moved from their cave home to different habitats and construction was finally finished. The tunnel caused trade to flow freely from Rustboro to Verdanturf to Mauville.

In times of war though, it has become a supply line and transportation of military forces from Rustboro to other regions of Hoenn occurs through this tunnel. This made it one of the most prime targets for Zach and his group to strike a blow against the Hoenn army. Zach once served Hoenn, spending years accomplishing death defying missions and putting his life on the life to serve Hoenn’s interest. Part of it was a sense of duty and thanks to his foster father, who had raised him since the tragic death of his parents. The other part was because Zach had no passions in life. With only a military background from travelling with his father there was only one thing Zach knew.

Zach refocused on the mission at hand. According to intelligence, Hoenn military forces were sending a convoy full of heavy armor and supplies through the tunnel. From there they would travel to Mauville. They were fortifying the city due to insurgents known as the Followers of Kyogre running amok along the routes between Mauville and Fortree. Most of Hoenn’s airforce was in use against Orre, and most of its air transporation had been used sending much of Hoenn’s army there. This made the tunnel the only option to send Zach could tell what the Hoenn military had planned. Reinforce Mauville from Rustboro and Fortree and then pincer in on the clearly inferior force.

What Hoenn didn’t know was that the Followers of Kyogre were just bait set up by Aqua while they dismantled Hoenn everywhere else around the region in key locations like Rustboro and Slateport, where the army and navy of Hoenn were respectively stationed. Zach admired the tactics and was always one for providing distractions to the body while you sever the head. Without these supplies Mauville would be sorely undefended and without the heavier tech used to put down the insurgency, Hoenn would be in for a battle of attrition.

By morning the Hoenn military would enter the tunnel. Hoenn hadn’t prepared for any type of trouble, leaving the entrance via Route 116 fairly unguarded, with just regular posts to watch and collect toll as well as restrict passage to any non-military personnel. This made it easy for Zach and his squad mates to plant explosives in the middle of the night. Now they prepared for morning, in which Zach would prove that Hoenn had made a mistake driving off one of their best and finest.

[XaiakuX]

• Lance Harper
• Harper Industries Headquarters in Goldenrod City
• Affected RPers: @Death's Spook

---

A darkness crept upon the screen as the video began. Then a light with a soft florescent glow was turned on, revealing the face of a man known as Oliver Harper.

"Is it recording?"

"Yes," a very familiar female voice replied.

"Good. Lance, if you're watching this, then I fear the worst has happened. Giovanni has more than likely silenced us, and left you to run our company. Which if he has left, means the downfall of Harper Industries," Oliver spoke quietly but clearly. He pause to allow a woman to join him at his side.

"Giovanni held this insufferable weight on out shoulders. It was like the moment we signed with him to be our partner and primary investor, he forever held that gun to the back of our heads. My god, we were such fools. I hope you'll forgive us for all of this. We should have never trusted Giovanni," Mary Harper's words grew shakier every second. Her emotions swelled and tears formed in her eyes.

"I know this man has been like an uncle to you and Alastair. However, this man is a monster who used our company to experiment on innocent people and Pokèmon. All for knowledge on these Burst Hearts. You've already experienced the powers of these stones with Speedy, haven't you? Giovanni sought something even more powerful. An object called the Ancient Burst Heart. There were supposedly 4 ever discovered, but they disappeared from the eyes and thoughts of men. If we are truly dead, it means Giovanni has found the Ancient Burst Heart here in Johto," Oliver began to get shaky in his words, as well, "I don't know how, or what it will take, but Giovanni cannot succeed, Lance!"

"Honey, calm down. There isn't any more we can do," Mary said softly in an attempt to calm her husband.

"Mary, I can't stand being helpless like this. I'm not going to wait around for Giovanni to kill us!"

Oliver Harper stood up and stormed off screen.

"Lance, I know we've been distant these last couple years. But words could never express how much we love you, and how proud we are of the man you have become. It is my wish that you never have to see this video. That we'll grow old and watch you and your brother become great men," Mary paused, and sighed heavily.

"Lance, don't tell any of this to Alastair. He doesn't need to know that Giovanni killed his mother and father. It would devastate him more than anything else you could ever say to him. We love you, and we love Alastair. Take care of your little brother, Lance. Learn from each other and grow stronger, together. Good-bye, Son."

The video faded to black with the sounds of a woman sobbing.

---

In a dimly lit office space on the top floor of the largest skyscrapers in Johto, a young man sat in a black office chair made of genuine leather, and there he rested in a state of deep thought. Before him was a wooden desk of mahogany make. He believed it more valuable than anything else in his building. Though that proved untrue with the evidence resting upon the desk. Upon the desk set just a laptop. A standard model created by the company who owned the chair he sat in, the laptop he was using, and the desk the laptop was displayed on. The company is Harper Industries. Which, until recently, was the economical titan upon which Johto stood for years. That was until Giovanni ripped the rug from under their feet, and sent the business spiraling out of control.

Upon the screen of the laptop, a video window was displayed, it was stopped at the replay request screen. The man in the leather chair had just finished watching that video, and thus left speechless by its contents. The man in the chair wore a worn out red hooded sweater, under that you could visibly see the white t-shirt thanks to the zipper being half unzipped on the sweater. Also resting upon the desk were his new sneakers. They were black with a red trim. The laces were a dark shade of yellow to resemble the colors of Speedy, his Scizor. As such, there was a white silhouette of a Scizor embedded on the outer ankle of each shoe. His eyes were like ice as he stared into the screen of his laptop. Although slightly bloodshot from staring, his gaze never shifted. The laptop created by the company he owns. This young man is Lance Harper.

Giovanni had killed his parents, destroyed his company, and had stolen a powerful weapon that shouldn't be in the hands of human beings. Giovanni needed to be stopped. Suddenly, he felt a turning in his stomach as several thoughts rushed through his mind.

'How do I stop him? What can I do that the police couldn't? How am I supposed to carry this vendetta as well as support my region in this debilitating world war?' Lance had been pondering many questions. When answers came up, more questions surfaced. His mind was in a fog. This was all so sudden, and all too much for one young man to bear. Without his parents or his brother around, what was he going to do?

A young man sat in a dimly lit office room, pondering a great many things. His next step would be the greatest step he would ever have to take. He needed to be cautious with it.

[OoC: Giovanni doesn't actually have the Ancient Burst Heart, it is simply assumed by Lance that he does have it. However, if the rest of you don't mind it.. =P]

[Lord Celebi]

OOC: Please read all of Norb Whitehall's POV posts in the voice of Kevin Spacey from House of Cards.

Norton "Norb" Whitehall
Capitol Building, Evergrande City
Hoenn
Affected RPers: None

The meetings of the Defense Committee so bored Norton Whitehall. The Parliament of Hoenn endlessly bickered amongst themselves, simply trying to settle partisan gains as opposed to actually playing The Game. Everyone was only the lookout for the next election, the next campaign contribution, the next fancy dinner with a lobbyist; no one could see the bigger picture. The world was a chessboard and Whitehall intended to not only play it, but to win it. He was not a piece, but a player.

He did, of course, have a purpose for showing up at the meeting of Hoenn's Defense Committee. Recently, it had been a bunch of warhawks beating their chests over Hoenn's recent military dominance. As opposed to planning for Hoenn's Defense, as the founders of Hoenn had intended for these meetings to be used, these men were instead using it to plan further offensives into other countries. Orre was in Hoenn's line of sights now. Their harboring of militant refugees from various terrorist factions all across the world was finally going to be met with punishment, at least, according to Whitehall's esteemed colleagues.

"Orre will no longer harbor terrorist threats to Hoenn!" Hans Velshtein, General of the Hoenn Armed Forces, bellowed across the hall. The florescent light of the room gleamed off his bald head, blinding the aging Parliamentarian forced to listen to his speech. Whitehall wondered when the blowhard would ever shut up.

"We can't attack Orre when there's a war between Kanto and Johto. It's our duty, as the world's strongest power, to police these conflicts," Orson Barkley, another Parliamentarian, fiercely replied. Whitehall chuckled to himself. He's only deflecting because the Orre shipping industry is paying him out of the nose to keep war out of that country. Barkley and Vehlstein verbally duked it out for a few moments before Whitehall had to intercede.

"Enough! This is the Capitol Building. We are Hoenn's best and brightest. If we cannot resolve this petty disagreement without this constant bickering, then gentlemen, I'm afraid our motherland is lost," Whitehall quipped. "For now, I think it would be best to table this issue until the morning. A night of sleep will do us all some good." The blowhards and egotists surrounding Whitehall nodded in agreement as the men filed out of the room to return to their wives and whores. Whitehall grabbed Barkley by the crook of the elbow as he was leaving.

"What is it, Norb?" Barkley asked, expecting the usually genial Norb Whitehall. He quickly realized that he had instead come upon the vicious Whitehall; a scowl encompassing the entirety of the lower half of his face. Barkley tried to free his arm, but Whitehall gripped harder. He led the man towards the desks. Once he was confident the two were alone, Whitehall retrieved a bottle of Laphroaig 18 from his desk and two scotch glasses. He poured one for himself--all the way up to the rim--and much smaller one for Barkley.

Whitehall brought the drink up to his lips and relished in the firewater rushing down his throat. His body screamed at him to keep what was technically a poison out of his body, but Whitehall was man enough to keep the shivers under control. Whilst Barkley had only drank a shot's worth, Whitehall had downed half of the glass. "Woah, Norb. I know that you've been struggling with abuse, but you should at least wait until you get home to get that hammered."

The alcoholic grabbed Barkley's hand and put it on his side, where his liver was. "You feel that, Orson?"

Barkley's eyes widened in shock. "What the hell? Norb, that's a god damn stone."

"Exactly. I'll be fine. You see, unlike yourself, hiding my vices is much easier," Whitehall quipped. He grabbed a docket from under his desk and put it in front of Barkley. Barkley didn't react--he knew what was in there. "Illegally taking campaign contributions from foreign parties? That's baby stuff, we all do it. This, however. Well, quite frankly, when I came across these pictures, I was absolutely shocked." The photos, of course, had been provided to him by Finch Reynolds: Aqua's Captain of Espionage.

"What do you want?" Barkley asked Whitehall exasperated.

"The kids would say that you're my bitch now," Whitehall told him. "Me? I just would like you take my counsel on the way you should vote very seriously from now on." He finished the drink and slammed the glass onto the ground, shattering it. "Or you'll end up like that."

"But what about Orre? If we go to war with them, I'll have no money to keep running for office," Barkley tried to argue.

"Let me worry about that," Whitehall reassured him. "You can go now." The politician scurried away, unwilling to expose himself to any further political torment. Whitehall sat there for a moment as he finally started to feel a buzz overtake him. He nestled the bottle of Laphroaig away for later and checked his phone. Using his 4G connection, he logged into a secure VPN and accessed the Deathwing's servers. Whitehall liked to keep a close eye on Aqua's R&D department. Restricting Raidon's toys seemed like the only way to keep control of them these days.

A smile wrapped its way around his cheeks when he saw the Liquidator, a Gatling Railgun. Those Railgun plans that Whitehall had leaked to Aqua seemed to have come in handy. It appeared that Angel Price had modified the designs to distribute the masses via the gravitational turns of the Gatling gun as opposed to forcing a manual load. It was absolutely ingenious. He couldn't wait until he could turn that intellect towards Hoenn... when he ran the country, of course.

However, his smile turned to a frown once again when he saw Project MEND. Tyrus Hale's clandestine research group, whom Hale lovingly referred to as his "skunkworks," had been sicced onto this project. Once he had pored over the details, Whitehall decided he needed to pay Raidon Makoto a visit. He hadn't behaved well enough for a toy like that.

[Neo Emolga]

Noah "Neo" Ashfield
Slateport City, Hoenn
Affected RPers: N/A

Pirate's Gambit.

It was a ploy I liked to use against chumps like these. When I scoped out the situation with the naval ships, sure, there were enough sailor boys running around, but I looked harmless. I knew how to blend in with dimwit tourists and not be suspicious.

The real plan was to rig three of their ships I could do without, and pluck the one I did want out of their hands. You see, the plan here was Hoenn was going to give me this ship. If they allowed me to sail away, free as a Wingull, without shooting me, well, I wouldn't blow up their other three ships then. But if they attacked, they'd risk killing the captain, who I was going to take hostage, and they'd get to watch a really expensive fireworks show.

I hoped they brought lawn chairs for just such an occasion.

The first ship I came across was the HAN Enforcer. It was another run of the mill destroyer that just didn't catch my fancy. So, I didn't feel the least bit sore about slapping one of my Firespike explosive charges on it, hidden just underneath the water. If this little baby got detonated, the concentrated blast would be directed right into the hull, busting open a nice big hole. The bay would do the rest of the work for me, and I was sure the Shellders, Tentacools, and Clamperl would really appreciate it.

Second one was a cruiser, the HAN Paladin. Gawd, I hated this boring names they came up with these ships. Again, nothing special. I mean sure, I'd love to take off with all four of these ships, but there was only one me and none of my Pokémon would be able to commandeer one of these. Plus, I'd have the whole Hoenn Navy on my ***. Couldn't be too greedy. Again, I managed to slip another explosive charge just under the water, where no one would see it.

Ship #3, another cruiser, the HAN Legionnaire. Yawn. Rigged.

The fourth and last ship was the best, I felt. The HAN Entourage was a heavy battleship with a lot of guns and seemed expensive enough. Boring name, but I figured I would devise something classy when I sailed this thing back home. I just needed to rip out the AIS transponder and drive it back home.

With my sights on the Entourage now, it was time to get to work.

---

Janine "Angel" Price
AMS Deathwing, Mirage Island, Hoenn
Affected RPers: N/A

PokéTarts could very well be the doom of all Pokémon. Or just Pokémon with trainers dumb enough to give it to them!

By the time figured out the truth behind PokéTarts, it would be way too late. The only real way for a Pokémon to get off PokéTarts and not binge feed like a furry (or scaly) Mr. Creosote was to lock 'em up for two weeks and not get anywhere near the greedy, little monsters. You wouldn't even be able to keep them tucked away in a Pokéball. Ha, ha, but most trainers wouldn't do that to their Pokémon. So I figured it would make for a great epidemic.

Designing the formula itself wasn't a biggie. I just needed a recipe that really triggered the heck out of a Pokémon's dopamine response. Natural adaptations would treat these receptors like germ invaders, so over time, the receptors wouldn't give a Pokémon a strong enough fix. So they'd eat more to get that! The diminishing returns would be brutal on a trainer's wallet. Ha, ha, I could just see all those trainers right at the poor house!

In the meantime, I had finished a successful CAD version of the Liquidator, which they were already building into a prototype. It was what they would call... "badass," and I was glad my version was the one that got the final approval. It even just looked intimidating, like it was giant, angry claw ready to pick up something and shred it up into bits! But hey, if it did that, it wouldn't nearly be as bad as what it actually did. 3,500 railgun shots in a single minute. You were looking at a lot of dead things with that! Problem was ammo was expensive, so I figured it could really only fire for a few seconds, but boy would it rip up a lot of stuff quickly!

The new tank model was called the Shadowfall, which would be superior to normal tanks in just about every way. In large droves, well, there really wasn't too much out there that could stop 'em. These babies were made to be ready for anything. The engineers were busy making the prototype right now, based off of some concept designs and CAD models that already seemed to pass the simulated environment test. The prototype would help us decide if mass production would be a cool idea, but hey, if it were up to me, I'd just go ahead with it right away.

Lastly, Project MEND was an under-wraps project. I had gotten the research project plans and read over them. Lots of dry, sciencey stuff. I understood it, but it wasn't the kind of material I'd remember for an open-mike night at the Split-Sides comedy club. It was one of those ace in the hole kind of things that could really help Team Aqua a lot, and no one would realize it until long after we had won. It was kind of like cheating. But that was totally okay in my book. Playing by the rules was boring.

[The Nonexistent Tazz]

Yarvick "The Raticate" Xelsez
Team Aqua
Outskirts of Slateport, Hoenn
Affected RPers: Neo Emolga
Introducing the Raticate...

Yarvick "The Raticate" Xelsez. Most famous for his murder of colonel Salvador Brillo to the men and woman of the everyday, and especially to the army, but more famous for his brilliant stealing power amongst the black market and the more unscrupulous types. His failures were rare, his performance high. Aqua's possession of a master thief was almost a must, after they got him some gun training. It was his well-defined duty to hack, sabotage, and most importantly steal the assets of anything that happened to oppose Aqua. In this case, it was the Hoenn Navy, arguably one of the most powerful in the world WITHOUT Burst Hearts. Having them was, in some circles, considered overkill. Being a nation that had half of it's cities on the water could do that.

The mission, his first 'official' mission in Aqua, was to help nab a ship. However, One "Noah 'Neo' Ashfield" was in charge of the actual theft of the actual ship. Yarvick's role in this operation was a bit different: cause chaos in whatever way he saw fit to take heat away from Noah and allow him to take the ship easier. How he would do it was entirely up to him, as long as it was big enough of a ruckus to attract attention. It noted that any spoils he steals in the process are his to keep. They didn't even assume well-placed flashbangs, stirring up riots, or anything like that-oh, no. Aqua's higher-ups knew EXACTLY what Yarvick's job was, what he liked to do, and what he excelled at, and they knew better than to think he would be any different. It was his duty to steal, and he liked doing his duty as much as possible.

He was still nervous, though. He may not have gotten the big, important job, but he was still nervous. This meant directly dealing with the armed forces of Hoenn, a direct consequence of taking heat away from Noah. He could run. He always could. He was faster than most anyone. He even had a Burst Heart-in case those millitary types tried bursting to kill him, he'd show them a cruel surprise when he could do it as well, and use that to get away. But the last time he wound up even unintentionally involved in military men was when he met Colonel Brillo. The thrill of stealing was what he liked doing, narrowly evading the law and retribution. Being held in a pin by a Swampert readying up a Hydro Pump guaranteed to make his head a red paste was NOT part of that definition. He very narrowly escaped due to sheer luck, and nothing else. His luck was naturally bad-he used planning and precision helped along by Hyperion at times, so if luck got involved it was typically against his favor. He did NOT want repeat incidents. In any case, they weren't trained to stop intruders, they were trained to kill people. He hadn't broken out of jail yet, but he'd LOVE to try that instead of getting killed.

But, that was going to change today. You had to live up to your fears one day, as many would say. Working with Aqua would demand that he deal with these kinds of people, and he was well-aware of the cost when he joined up. Better thrills meant bigger consequences.

He had it planned out what he would do after reading a tour guide for the city itself: he'd hit the Museum. It was an aquatic and naval museum, definitely not the kind he liked to pilfer from, but they would probably have some important knickknacks that could fetch him a pretty penny and be important enough for people to worry their heads over. It was hard to say for sure, though, but even then, just setting off the security systems would be enough to get heads turned away from the naval ships, even if it was a false alarm, and he could leave without taking anything at all-cause the distraction without doing anything that would get him in any more trouble than just for trouble-making with Atlas. Yet, at the same time, the navy troops stationed would be drawn to the chaos, giving EXACTLY the distraction Noah could use.

It was like Jaws and the kid with the fake shark fin. He'd steal an unimportant thing or two while Noah would steal a really BIG thing.

But first...To actually get INTO the city.

Yarvick hadn't gotten into position to do anything. He was still in line, waiting for his ID card and civvy papers to be checked. They were forged, of course, as his actual name would likely get him hauled in for multiple cases of Larceny and the murder of Colonel Salvador Brillo. His 'name' for today was Carlos Sanchez. It definitely wasn't a name so distinct as his own. It took twenty minutes of waiting, but finally, he was at the gates.

"Papers, please." said the navyman. Yarvick could tell at a glance that the dude was pretty angry at something, though Yarvick couldn't really figure out WHAT. Yarvick wordlessly handed him the ID card and the civvy papers. Screwing around with an angry soldier was not in his agenda no matter what.

"What is your official business in Slateport, Mr. Sanchez?" the guard asked, skimming the papers.

"I'd like to visit the naval museum." Yarvick responded. Might as well tell the truth, he WAS going to visit the museum.

"He looks pretty poor..." Another guard commented, as the first one gave back the ID card.

"I've been saving up." Yarvick said.

"Move on through." the first guard said, handing back the D7 with a slight bit of acid in his voice, not aimed at anything Yarvick could guess.

Yarvick was walking off towards the Museum without looking back. So far, so good...

[TheProtobabe]

Helena Gray
Harper Industries Headquarters in Goldenrod City
Affected RPers: @XaiakuX

"Is it recording?"

The muffled tones of a voice reached Helena Gray's ears as she ducked into the shadows of the air-conditioned building, her tiny body adapting to the corners. Her breath was expertly suppressed as she watched and listened carefully. At the moment, she only saw the back of a young man's head, illuminated slightly by the bright glow of his computer screen. Voices came through the speakers, sounding slightly tinny--a recording. Dancing lights indicated movement onscreen; a video. Her oceanic eyes narrowed. She'd need to get in at a better angle to see it... though she wasn't sure if that was even necessary.

She knew who the young man was--pretty much everyone in Johto did. He was Lance Harper, the orphaned child of Harper Industries' former owners. Rumor had it that foul play was involved, but they were never confirmed. Helena knew better, though--one got to hearing the dark truth of people on the streets. Giovanni was far too crooked to have let them go untouched.

Helena had followed Lance quietly, sensing he had some sort of mission or important thing to do. His face had said it all. As her only connection to Giovanni--and therefore the Ancient Burst Heart he allegedly had--she couldn't help but follow the young man here. And now she listened with him as he watched the video of two people talking to him beyond the grave.

She stayed put as the video ended, frowning. There had been no mention of Giovanni's whereabouts or future plans, though it was confirmation of the man's status as a murderer. This was hardly useful, save for furthering Helena's caution if she ever faced the man. He was deadly, and obviously was a dirty fighter. She flicked her gaze to the back of Lance's head. Would Giovanni go after the boy, too? It was something to ponder. Helena wondered vaguely if he would take precautions to protect himself. Although, with the company destroyed, maybe it wouldn't be worth it to the haughty, crooked man...

But her bitter disappointment in failing to glean any information harmonized with Lance's melancholy, thoughtful mood. Helena gripped the Pokeball containing Natalia, her Lucario--more out of habit than anything else--and wondered if maybe Lance would want to find Giovanni for revenge. Would it be worth the gamble of revealing herself, or should she stay hidden? Helena decided to gauge his demeanor for a while before coming to a decision.

[Akaida]

Zach Pierce
Outside of Rustsurf Tunnel
Affected RPers: None

Zach awoke early for the final shift that would wake the rest of the squad and prepare for the strike. He radioed in to each member, many of whom were spread out, to hit from all sides.

“It’s time everyone, Talonflame has let me know that they won’t be far off. Remember, wait to detonate until the armor passes near the explosives. Once you set them off, Michaels, I want you to start gunning down the escorts. The rest of us will burst with your choice of Pokemon and hit any armor that was untouched and the convoy supplies. You will leave the escort troops to Michaels. I will call for the retreat and we will all throw smoke out and regroup at the rendezvous point. Is this all understood?”

“Aye Commander, we’ve only been over the mission plan a million times”, came a reply from John Michaels, the designated sniper and marksman of his squad. He was one of the only people from his squad that was caught up in Zach’s escape from the Hoenn government. Michaels had more loyalty to him than the group of men that had been chasing him, and he dispatched them and aided Zach. John Michaels had entered the same academy as Zach, and Zach’s accomplishments enthralled Michaels. The thought of his idol in academy being an enemy of the state did not sit right with him and followed along.

“Stop flirting with your dream boy Michaels and get your crap together. I don’t want some chump with a gun taking me out because you were crushing on the Commander.” This voice was easily identifiable as Ted “Slaughter” Pratt. He along with everyone else in his squad were an assortment of mercenaries and in some cases bad apples of the Hoenn military. Ted was especially brutal, but effective. Some of his antics of killing and torture were so gruesome that the details had been limited. His nickname was well earned. To Zach, he was too flamboyant and drew too much attention to himself. Now he was fighting alongside him.

Restraining Pratt as well as the other men in his squad that didn’t have as much discipline as his former team always added another element to the mission. Would anyone go rogue, or let their personal desires and habits override his orders? What would his plan of action be then? Zach had always told himself he would put them down himself, but in the hectic of battle and war, how would he be able to accomplish both. Eliminating an asset endangered the mission, something he always put first. Thankfully, it had never come to that. Pratt’s comment elicited chuckles and laughter from the rest of the squad.

“Maintain your composure, and commence radio silence. I will fire a green flare to signal beginning the operation. I will issue orders throughout the operation. Let’s make this simple and clean”. Zach never had to raise his voice too high. Everyone on that squad knew his reputation and what he was capable of. They knew that when Zach was calm, he was at his most dangerous. Zach prepared his Pokeball and Burst heart. Draglage was known for using its poison to bring down ships, making it adept at eating away at armored tanks, and convoy trucks. And if any of the escort troops proved a problem, its set of dragon moves would quickly dispatch them. While normally a Pokémon that sticks to water, Bursting with it had allowed him to alternate between both swimming and traversing land.

The trucks and tanks caused the ground to rumble beneath his feet, he readied his Pokeball and Burst Heart in one hand, and the flare gun in the other. The convoy had just begun to enter the cave, meaning much of the armor was right around the explosives set in. He pointed the flare gun and pointed the trigger.

The shaking of the ground from the tanks was nothing compared to the thunderous explosions that blew up entire tanks and set men alit as a series of deadly explosions rocked the convoy. Gunshots were muted under the sound of chaos as escort troops lives were plucked away. Panic ensued, just as Zach had opened.

This was only the beginning as him and his squad charged into the convoy, clad in the power of their Burst forms.

[Homura]

Jans "Agricola" Hanson
Harper Industries Headquarters in Goldenrod City
Affected RPers: @Lord Celebi, @Death's Spook

Jans continued to type on his laptop, each click of the mechanical keyboard felt heavy to him. However, this was one of his most interesting times. Johto and Kanto were, in effect, at war, and the world stage was set for a grand melee. He was one not to care about it all. He was much interested in his own self interest. In the end, he was an employee of Harper Industries. However Oliver had been, he is now dead. His death made his son, Lance, the one to inherit the company, however bad shape it was in. Giovanni, on the other hand, had disappeared from the surface of the Earth.

His little office was unmarked, and hardly anybody would venture into that area of the building. It was a fantastic hiding spot for Jans himself, and certainly he would have no other qualms about it. He could conduct his "research" in peace. He looked to his left; the printer continued to print sheets upon sheets of paper, with its printing sounds drowned out by the humming of the computer and machinery he had in and around the office.

He had watched Lance enter his office a few hours ago, and yet that spoiled brat hasn't come out of that office yet. He was certain that Lance was a great target. He had a lot of dirt from his past and present that most certainly Jans could use to make him more money. Lance was an interesting proposition that he may pursue at a later date. But for now, he would bide his time with this boy.

He was looking into a man named Norton Whitehall, and prominent politician, the Senior Representative for Fallharbor in Hoenn. This man was elusive and shrewed in his methods, and much of Jans' knowledge of this man was still cloudy at best. He made a note to keep tabs on this man. He would certainly need eyes in Hoenn, somehow.

To do this, he'd need to track the man, and his shadows. Jans knew that incident 731 was a political setup, but he didn't know what it was that he was trying to do. In addition, it made no sense that Whitehall would simply do political retribution on others without a secondary or tertiary plan. He needed to find out what was going on in there. That was, perhaps a threat to his way or life, or perhaps an opportunity that he could capitalize on. In either case, he needed this work to be done.

How would he be able to track this man in the first place? He searched rumour site after rumour site. The rumour has it that Whitehall had a team of military leaders behind him pulling strings within the military itself. If that was the case, the most obvious thing to do was to have some sort of an armada or military power under his solid control, in case of a need for a coup. At any case, the most obvious thing to do was to track their military weapons, while monitoring Whitehall's movements. He needed a satellite.

Pulling up the map of Hoenn and all of the telecommunications companies there, Jans noted at least 15 different companies, the largest of which was in Slateport: Funk Telecom. He'd need to go there. He made a quick phone call and left a message, "Alastair, Agricola here. I need a favour. I need a few men to get to Slateport for some...work related issues. Call me back."

All he needed to do was wait.