Mazer Pratten the Greninja
Prankster Platoon (De Facto Leader)
Connive, City Center -> Liaocrack River
Affected RPers: @LKWayvern (Laura), @Morzone (Theo).

((Spitland Raichu: an Alolan Raichu; their surfboard tails have been adapted for the watery environment of Spitland Lake))

“Mazer? What are you doing?”

Truthfully, Mazer had no idea what he was doing - one minute he was lying on his belly, watching the Bloodpit Arena play out; the next, he was on his feet, holding Water Shurikens in both hands. With great effort, he managed to dismiss them, though his hands were still trembling with anger.

“That Tsareena,” he said to Sheena, gesturing to the television, where a beautiful but crownless Tsareena was executing a Vikavolt, “that Tsareena is trouble. Where in the name of everything is Jacobin? I need to talk to him.”

Sheena shifted uncomfortably, “Mazer, there’s nothing we can do for them; we just have to hope they survive -”

“I need to warn them,” Mazer interrupted, snappish. “The Grand Lady hates me, personally, and she’s aligned against the Prankster Platoon. She’ll go after our people, and I need to warn them now.” Before either Sheena or Bella could protest, Mazer walked off, boosting his speed with jets of water under his feet.

It didn’t take him long to find Jacobin, a Beheeyem who was constantly tapping away at his phone. “Hi, Mazer.” Because he had no mouth and couldn’t broadcast telepathy to a Dark-type, he typed the words into a text-to-speech program on his phone. “Apparently some Black Lotus officers were spotted with what looked like some kidnap victim leaving Sabinal and heading up the Liaocrack. Must be something important for them to leave someone alive. And then there’s -”

Mazer held up a hand to try and stop Jacobin, but the Beheeyem was too busy staring at the screen to register the gesture. “Now’s not the time. Need you to get a message to Kirrun, dear,” Mazer said, exasperated. “I need you to have him warn everyone on our side that The Grand burning Lady is on the field.”

“The grand who wha -”

“A Tsareena!” Mazer shouted, his voice escalating. “A Tsareena with no crown and a penchant for deep carnage. Oh, and she f**king hates me and the rest of the Platoon, and since Laura is quite visibly one of us, she and her flock will try and murder our squadron on sight. Tell Kirrun to tell our party to either stay away from the Tsareena or kill her as quickly and decisively as possible, or they’re not going to come back.”

When he was done, Jacobin gave Mazer a blank stare, the only sign that he was even conscious being his idiotic nubby fingers blinking. Mazer was severely tempted to jolt the Beheeyem out of his reverie with a nice Night Slash, but then Jacobin made a beeping noise deep in his throat. “It’s done,” he communicated, fingers flashing across the screen of his phone. “I’ll let you know when Kirrun replies.”

Mazer shook his head, “You’ll let Sheena and-or Bella know, dear,” he corrected. “Don’t call me unless the Black Lotus are burning Connive to the ground.” He sighed and scratched his chin. “This is an unholy mess, but I think I can salvage something in it. You said Sabinal and heading north, right?”

Jacobin tilted his head, “Sir?”

“If I have to remind one more person not to call me ‘sir’ I will absolutely go berserk,” Mazer remarked calmly. “Sitting here worrying won’t do me any good. Call up my crew members and tell them that if they’re not at the harbor within half an hour, I’ll make them swim the Devil’s Tide.”

Sure enough, an irritable-looking Feraligatr, Dusknoir, Dragonite, and Spitland Raichu were assembled at Connive’s harbor within a few minutes. As soon as Mazer was in sight, the Dragonite turned toward Mazer, baring formidable fangs. “This had better be good, Maze. I’m running bets with this idiot,” she gestured to Umber, the Dusknoir standing next to her, “on the Derby, and we’re missing the whole thing.”

“Oh, please, darling,” said Mazer with a smile, “you all need to get some spontaneity in your life.” He gestured to one of the boats - not the lovingly crafted vehicle that Mazer was holding ready for the Devil’s Tide, but still a formidable vessel in its own right. “Come on. Why watch action when you can join in it?”

---

“I still maintain that this is a terrible idea,” said Mellie. The Spitlander definitely looked irate, though she was better than Tatia; the Dragonite was still growling. The only one who hadn’t complained was Krum, and that was by and large because the Feraligatr averaged about three words per day.

While Mellie was at the helm, Mazer knew that so long as he kept walking the line between authority and equal, she would keep listening to him - though she would probably still keep complaining about it. “And I still maintain that we’re getting good practice for the Devil’s Tide proper and throwing a spanner into whatever the Black Lotus is doing here,” he said calmly. “Settle down, love. Let’s make a day of this!”

Krum emitted a series of rapid-fire growls, which, for the borderline-feral Feraligatr, passed for laughter. “See?” Mazer asked, grinning, “even Krum is excited!”

Umber physically had no reason to sigh, but she did it anyway. “Krum is always excited about getting a chance to eat fresh meat. We should - “

There was the sound of Tatia’s heavy tail thumping down on the ship’s floorboards, “Excuse me,” she said, “but I see a boat.”

Sure enough, there was a faint silvery shape in the distance, speeding along on the river. Mazer smiled. “Full speed ahead, love!”

Mellie obliged, and Mazer ran to his position - he hauled himself over the ship’s railing and lowered himself down, sticking himself onto the hull using the pads on his hands and feet. His heart began to pound with anticipation; this felt familiar, as he’d played the unique and challenging role of boarder in the Devil’s Tide event many a time. While the ship came equipped with guns, he wasn’t sure they’d be needed. The closer they got to the other ship, the easier it was to see that it was a lightweight speedboat, and between himself, Tatia, and Krum, Mazer was pretty sure that the group would be able to deal with that ship with ease.

However, the other ship saw them, too, cruising at them from the north at top speed, too fast to be evaded. “Incoming!” Umber warned, and a second later, an Infernape on the ship’s prow let loose a Fire Blast that was truly a sight to behold. Mazer, quick as light, peeled one of his hands off the ship’s side, then threw up a row of green tiles. The force field was a little sloppy, but it got the job done - the worst that got through was a roil of slight heat that washed over the ship’s crew like a desert breeze.

“Mat Block, love!” Mazer hollered. “Boarders forward! Krum, the monkey is yours! Tatia, make sure they don’t run away like the cowards they are! Let’s show these worthless vermin why they’re afraid of the Prankster Platoon!”

Mazer didn’t wait to see if his orders were being carried out; he knew that they would be. Instead, he lunged off the side of the ship and into the water, where sure enough, he passed by Krum. The Feraligatr’s slitted eye fell on Mazer and for a moment, Mazer wondered if today would be the day he would have to put the reptile down. However, the moment passed quickly, and soon Mazer and Krum were climbing out of the water on opposite sides of the boat - more of a little skiff than anything; barely worth calling a boat - and there was the sound of an Infernape screaming in pain as Krum’s jaws closed around his shoulder.

Without pausing to watch, Mazer made his way into the hold, slicing through the locked door with a Water Shuriken, and cutting down the Machamp standing guard with another of the same. “Must’ve been relying on sheer stealth and reputation,” Mazer muttered as he walked deeper into the hold, looking for whatever or whoever the Black Lotus had been grabbing. It didn’t take him long to find a black bag.

“This had better not be a corpse,” Mazer muttered, “or else I shall be very cross that we got gussied up and came all this way for nothing.” He patted the bag once to make sure that he wouldn’t accidentally lop off its occupant’s head or something, then deftly sliced it open. Inside, he saw a rather bedraggled-looking Quilava, who seemed to be quite alive.

Mazer didn’t recognize him, though; what could make a half-evolved fire ferret so important? “Wake up, sparkler,” Mazer said bowing graciously and making sure that his neon jacket showed, “I am Mazer of the Prankster Platoon, and your salvation is at hand.”