[PXFIRE] [RP] PXFIRE Roleplay - A Game of Storms

[VeloJello]

Jones Sandstrider the Heliolisk
Prankster Platoon
Scheme City Central, Platoon Training Field
Affected RPers: @LKWayvern (Laura)

((This post has been bunny-checked by LKWayvern))

The target was quadrupedal, small, dark-furred. Weak, by the looks of it, but looks could be deceiving. Jones glared at her and circled, body low to the ground, holding her half-expanded spear in her left hand. The tip of her tail twitched periodically, and the frill on her neck itched to be lifted, but she kept it down. She wanted to give no indication, no warning, as to when she would attack. This wasn't time to show off; it was time to fight. She stopped periodically, like she was preparing to do something, then resumed her circling. As a result, she expected the Thunder Wave she shot at Laura the Umbreon’s flank to come as a surprise.

Jones didn’t stop with the Thunder Wave, though. The Pranksters watching let out a series of cheers and gasps as Jones threw out her frill, and with it, a massive amount of sand. Even within the confines of Scheme City, where buildings, brightly-colored roads, and vehicles of all shapes and sizes were strewn about seemingly at random, Shadysands Desert was the perfect place for a Sandstorm attack.

Without skipping a beat, Jones lunged into the Sandstorm. If the Thunder Wave had connected, then Laura should be paralyzed and easy to bring down to the figurative mat. Even if not, Jones was pretty sure that the Umbreon would have difficulty seeing, even breathing, in the maelstrom of grit. On the other hand, sandstorms were familiar territory to Jones, and it helped her tighten her focus on her opponent.

Now was the time to strike, and strike hard, making sure to put her opponent down. Taking hold of the spear with both claws, now, she channeled her best Thunderbolt into the metal and struck out, aiming at the blue-eyed umbreon.

Mazer Pratten the Greninja
Prankster Platoon (De Facto Leader)
Rhondul
Affected RPers: None.

As expected, the fiftieth Tempest Festival began with a bang or seventy. Well, there were probably bang sounds. The restaurant TV had been taken off of mute for the occasion, but the only sounds coming through were the audience cheering. “DEATH, DEATH, DEATH!” “We love you, Queen Taiya!” “This! Is! Awesome!”

Sheena, the Chesnaught that Mazer had brought along as extra muscle, sat next to Mazer, delicately holding a glass of nectar-water in her huge paws and sipping from it. Mazer had already withdrawn his tongue - he needed to be able to talk for this meeting, and that was rather difficult when one was using one’s tongue as a scarf - but he wasn’t drinking from his water, instead focusing on watching to the TV and rolling his Blaze Jewel around the bottom of his mouth.

There was a quiet thunk as Sheena set her glass down. “They’re doing that on purpose,” she said matter-of-factly.

“Oh, the audio thing?” Mazer asked as Queen Taiya herself, that mythic b*tch, appeared onscreen, a honey-sweet smile on her face. “Definitely. It’s -” he was ready to comment on how Taiya’s publicity would shoot up from the audience’s babbling alone, when a Toxicroak appeared on the screen with a sword in hand and, with no preamble or warning, sliced at Taiya. As perfectly as if it had been choreographed, Taiya dodged the attack and sliced open the Toxicroak’s throat. “Holy s**t,” Mazer muttered, but his voice was lost in the clamor as the other restaurant patrons began muttering and mumbling among themselves. There were even a few laughs and cheers, because really, who was dumb enough to publicly try to assassinate the most dangerous known single Pokemon on the face of Xia?

A Salazzle unceremoniously sat down at Mazer and Sheena’s table. “Well,” she said, a wry smile on her face. “What a way to begin a Tempest Festival.”

Mazer had definitely been surprised, but his voice didn’t show it. “Meh,” he said, “the fortieth Festival had way more exciting fireworks.” Now, he took a drink of his water, though he was careful not to let his Blaze Jewel hit his esophagus.

The Salazzle placed her chin in her hands. “Then your time away from the Tempest Festival has dulled your memory,” she said matter-of-factly. “Listen, I’m a very busy woman, so I’m going to make this short. I’m pulling your sponsorship.”

Next to him, Mazer could feel Sheena tensing up. He leaned forward, “Janine, ma’am, sweetheart, darling, can you please explain why?” The words oozed from his mouth like honey, but his stomach was rolling with nerves. Janine - an opportunist businesswoman who had gotten rich changing her pheromones into drugs rather than perfumes - couldn’t make or break Mazer or the Prankster Platoon’s participation in the Tempest Festival, but her massive amounts of money could definitely give them a leg up, and they were going to need it.

“Love, I’m sorry, I truly am,” said Janine, her cadence matching his pleas in an almost mocking fashion, “but I’ve had a change of heart. Your little prankster group is weak and the Black Lotus Empire will put you down soon enough, but there are plenty of others who are going to do well in these games. Others who I will, quite frankly, see better returns on.”

As Mazer had instructed her, Sheena didn’t say anything, but Mazer could see her clenching her paws. He had to sort this out. “My most gorgeous, lovely, elegant Janine,” said Mazer, fully aware that he was brown-nosing and doing it anyway because Janine normally ate it up, “I haven’t partaken in a Tempest Festival in many years, but I can assure you that I have not lost my edge. Is there anything I can do to change your mind?”

There was a sudden predatory gleam in Janine’s eyes, just enough for Mazer to realize that something was quite wrong. “Prove it, dearest.”

The Thundercrash Gang. That pack of absolute idiots was, Mazer was almost certain, the origin of the Electivire that suddenly grabbed hold of him from behind. He felt a pang of panic, room I need room I need room I need room, and aimed a Low Kick behind him. It was sloppy, poorly-executed, and panicked, but it had two effects: one, it loosened the Electivire’s hold on him and most likely interrupted whatever electric attack the Electivire would be preparing to launch; two, it sent a change shooting through Mazer, his Protean ability giving him strength from the attack.

“Dirty, rotten coward!” Sheena shouted as the other restaurant patrons began hooting and hollering. This was supposed to be a fairly high-class place, but given that these same people had eagerly watched a Lilligant slice open a Toxicroak’s throat on live television, they seemed more inclined to watch the fight than stop it. “I’ll rip your arms off!”

With a little more wiggle room, Mazer was able to use Waterfall, kicking at the floor and shooting jets of water from his heels and launching himself halfway across the restaurant. “Don’t interfere, Sheena!” Mazer snapped. He was confident that the Chesnaught would be able to handle this fight, but based on Janine's words, she would be much easier to win over after this if Mazer finished this alone.

“She won’t have the time,” the Electivire huffed, raising one hand.

Too slow; Mazer’s reflexes and senses were built to keep up with a ridiculously quick body. Another Waterfall jet sent him across the restaurant again; this time, however, he grabbed the Electivire by his fuzzy chest and slammed his fist into the Electivire’s face. He almost lost his grip when the Electivire reeled, but he kept a firm hold with one hand and, with the other, readied a Water Shuriken and shoved it forward as hard as he could.

It wasn’t quite as elegant as Taiya’s epic throat-slit, but a Water Shuriken to the brain did the job. The Electivire fell, bleeding from the hole in his head where the water had melted away. By the time Mazer removed the sticky pads of his fingers from the Electivire’s fur, he’d stopped breathing.

Mazer looked up at Janine. He couldn’t cock his eyebrows, but he tilted his head to achieve a similar effect. “The Thundercrash Gang, darling?” he asked. “Really, you thought you could pull a fast one on me with dumb muscle?”

Janine’s smile had never left her face. “If he’d killed you, I would’ve known you’d lost your edge. But seeing you fight just now… yes, I’ll return to sponsoring you.” She offered a hand to help Mazer up, and he took it. “I look forward to seeing you fight, dearest.”

She walked away, her tail swishing. Now that the fight was over, people in the restaurant were starting to get antsy. Mazer glanced at Sheena. “See, lovely?” he asked, though the term held no romantic connotations between the two of them. “I had it all under control.”

Sheena sighed. “Come on, you psycho,” she grunted. “Let’s get out of here before someone calls the cops.”