4.0 Dedicated to its Members and Fans of Pokemon A Pokemon Sandbox RP
Pokémon Dubstep (ft. Lindsey Stirling)
W
elcome Adventurer to EPOCH! A Pokemon Sandbox Rp set in the original region of Nue. Everything you need to know will be in the Guidebook and PokeDex 101!
EPOCH uses the Manga and is built on the Original ideas suggested by our members.
We are more than just a Pokemon RP, we're a friendly community with a goal on being a memorable experience for those that look in.
Golden Rule: Treat others as you wish to be treated. If you find yourself content with being an asshole EPOCH and its members will not tolerate you.
RULES
Understand We're All Human. Respect the staffers as well as your fellow members and guests. We all have flaws, tempers and quirks. Be patient with one another, but if issues involving other members come up please don’t just grin and bear it. Contact a staff member, informing them of what's going on so they can address and resolve the situation. The staff won't know what's bothering you unless you tell them.
EPOCH is PG-13. Proboards’ Terms of Service:
Sex; When you get under the clothes, fade to black.
Violence; Do not go into extreme nauseating detail.
Cursing; This is so fucking allowed, but don't go overboard.
Suggestive Content; In avatars, signatures and templates can attract the wrong kind of attention. So be careful.
Post by Engel Werner on Nov 29, 2014 18:01:10 GMT -5
Welcome Convention Guests!
The holidays are coming, and with that, so are the sales and excited new trainers on the look for filling out their Pokémon wish list! To prepare for the upcoming season, the Golden Egg Society (G.E.S.) has contacted the very high class five star hotel Hotel Richissime in Lumiose City, Kalos, to host their next convention. This formal event is open to the public, but we would be especially excited to have your company as well! At this convention, breeders from around the world will gather in one spot to show off their best Pokémon, bred for battle, show, and/or friendship. The eggs that will go on sale at this convention will be nothing to scoff at as years of selective breeding have gone into each egg to produce the top-of-the-line. Trainers, coordinators, and collectors alike are expected to flock to the Convention in hopes of getting their hands on the finest eggs they can find.
However, we are obligated to warn our guests that there have been many threats directed at our convention grounds. It seems the high quality ware that'll be displayed here has also sparked the attention of some unsavory folks. Do not fret though as Hotel Richissime features only the top of the line security, local law enforcement has been contacted, and to ensure no team activity interferes with our fun times, the International Police have even been contacted to help secure the event. Rest assure, if anything were to happen, you will be safe.
Rules of Conduct!
If you cannot reply within 3 days of your thread-mate's last post, you can be skipped.
If your thread-mate vanishes from your thread and you are on your own, you will have the option to join another group.
If bickering begins OOCly regarding battles on multiple occasions, I will force your battle to end prematurely and move your group along.
In order to claim any Reserved or Free Game egg or Pokemon, you must write out finding the egg or Pokemon at some point in this event.
Free Game can be stolen from you, but once you have claimed your Reserved egg or Pokemon, it is your's to keep.
If a Free Game egg is taken from you, you have the chance to ICly take it back. If you can, it's your's to keep.
You can only claim up to 4 eggs total in this Event.
These rules are liable to change, and all participants will be contacted if there has been additions or edits to these rules.
Engel and Jason will start out in the bottom left gray area of the Level 1 Map, the SECURITY, STORAGE, and LOADING DOCK, areas. Eileen is all safe and secure back in her temporary office in the Kalos Head Quarters. The SECURITY room is tucked neatly out of the way of the heavy lifters that flow from the LOADING DOCK to the STORAGE area, but the occasional Interpol officer will wander out to make sure the workers are doing their jobs. The SECURITY room is as high tech as the Pokémon world gets, such a high class hotel not sparing any expense to make sure their state of the art system is highly functional. The STORAGE area is definitely ancient in comparison to the high tech SECURITY room. With cement walls and no insulation, it’s colder than most of the hotel as a result of the fact the doors to the LOADING DOCK are almost always left open. In the STORAGE room there are various crates of food, training gear, and supplies being stocked. Items are constantly being moved out to the convention areas by other employees. It’s a very busy area with only small breaks for the workers coming in between trucks. During these breaks, the workers hover around a heater that’d been set up by Engel near the hall the Interpol Agents actually drift along.
Area Information!
Objectives
Introduce your characters
Mingle with your thread-mates
Optional: Use this as your chance to claim your eggs.
Reserved Pokemon
Elgyem EMs: Teleport & Disable
P O R Y G O N x 2 Gender: Genderless Ability: Download Moveset: Conversion, Conversion 2, Recover Discharge
Post by Jason Tham on Nov 29, 2014 19:59:02 GMT -5
NO LONGER WILL I HAVE TO REWIND THE PAST
People tended to say that little else beat an honest day's work, and while Jason didn't quite understand the meaning of the phrase before - for a large multitude of reasons over the years - the man couldn't help but feel that he was beginning to finally comprehend the meaning of the phrase. For nearly as long as he could remember most of his work had been stressful to the extreme, focused more around the idea of waiting for a singular moment while otherwise keeping hidden and simply hoping that nothing went wrong. This, though? This was a welcome change, even considering his thankfully legal jobs since last summer in Sevii. While Jason wasn't the strongest person you'd likely come across, the job he had managed to pick up in the Richissime Hotel's shipping and receiving crew was still well within his comfort zone. A relative oddity at that, actually - while Jason himself had long been used to having to deal with unpleasant climates and conditions with minimal discomfort, something that made the Kalosian winter trivial, it was working with other people at length that seemed to make it that much better, although in ways that Jason couldn't quite explain. The hours seemed to go by faster, the cold didn't seem to bite as hard, and the more time he spent on the job the happier Jason found himself that the Hotel didn't reject his job application out of hand, both for relative lack of work history (or much of any history at all) or for not knowing the native language. That, and the fact that he finally had a steady, dependable paycheck didn't hurt, either.
That being said, the one downside to it all was that the Hotel effectively owned his time, and it was that new revelation that made Jason realize exactly why Ricki had decided to start her own small business instead of finding a job elsewhere. With the holidays coming up and with Lumiose being the tourist city it was it almost felt like Jason lived at the place now, save the hours spent at the apartment cooking, eating and sleeping. Something that the man had admittedly not counted on or accounted for when he had first taken the job. On paper it had sounded all but perfect, at least for the short term, especially the benefits package that came with it. In practice, however, it was an entirely different story, and with the current event being held for the Convention the entirety of the last several days had more or less been spent more or less living out of the loading docks and the Hotel's storage center. Thankfully he wasn't alone in this, but given the last few weeks he had spent working at the Hotel he was surprised that a few of his coworkers hadn't started asking questions - nothing malicious in that as it seemed to be almost a rite of passage where the newer workers acquainted themselves with the older ones and vice versa, but Jason wasn't sure if his usual creative interpretation and wording would hold up here. The way he usually made it sound was like he had come from a management position, and people at that pay grade in most companies didn't suddenly start working at the bottom of the ladder in their next jobs.
Regardless, however, for the time being Jason was merely content to sit and listen as one truck pulled out of the bay and left it momentarily empty. Dressed in the heaviest clothing he had to ward against the cold, his old work clothing - black sweatshirt, pants and coat - Jason would step back from the edge of the cement platform to head towards one of the many building entrances, albeit one in particular. With the new security that had been layered on top of the Hotel's already impressive system, even by Jason's own standards, there had come a whole new retinue of... employees? He wasn't quite sure yet where things stood on that, but in any case the people from the new group had been assigned to the building's loading docks as well, and often times they had brought their own space heater, something that had won them the instant gratification and respect of Jason's own coworkers, and even as he began to make his way over the man could see several of his compatriots already beginning to do the same for the brief period of time before the next delivery came in.
NOTHING I'VE EVER DONE RIGHT HAPPENED ON THE SAFE SIDE
When had she been in Lumiose last? Awkward brunch with Mom and Joss, probably - Eileen downing her fill of pastries and the funny flavored coffee and subtly (or not so subtly) dodging Joss' polite inquiries about conversational things like work and friends and future plans while her mother looked on skeptically. A decade or so later and she still hadn't quite picked up on her daughter's inherent distrust of her new husband.
Eileen dropped in to see them almost every time she made a trip out to the Badlands, but she hadn't mentioned her arrival this time around. For one thing, this was all Official Business and stuff so it was excusable not to, she was pretty sure. Can't make small talk while you're manning a hotel worth of security cameras. And then she didn't want to have to deal with them inviting her and her friends out, because she could see it now. She could totally just see it. Kind of. She wasn't sure what she could see but she was absolutely certain whatever it was would be horrible. Just trying to imagine Engel sitting across from Joss talking about - well, things people talked about - she couldn't. It was like her mom and Joss and her Interpol friends and coworkers existed in two different universes and if they intersected a cosmic apocalypse might be triggered. Come to think of it that was why thinking of her dad and Joss in the same room made her skin crawl, too. Maybe she was on to something.
Whatever catastrophe she may or may not have averted would have to be pondered later, anyhow. Eileen was currently occupying a glass-walled computer office in Lumiose's Interpol Headquarters, with a dozen or so monitors within arm's reach and another small army of them beyond the walls of her classy temporary enclosure, where the rest of the department's resident tech experts were humming along their assigned duties. Eileen for one was on "Rich Is Me" patrol, the whole of the Hotel Richissime's security system at her beck and call remotely for the duration of the night's events. She couldn't argue about the office set-up, especially after she had pulled down most of the blinds over the glass, but the hotel's security left something to be desired. It wasn't awful, in fact like the hotel boasted it was pretty much Top of the Line, but it wasn't anything she would have built either. But then, Eileen was skeptical at best about most computer systems she didn't have a close relationship with, so that wasn't saying too much.
Swiveling gently back and forth in her seat, with her Mime Jr, Boo, and Whimsicott Tuff making themselves at home on the desk, Eileen let out a sigh and bit another Twizzler out of the pack in her hand. Usual playlist playing, though not as loud as it would have been were she back in her office, Atari and Joy were scooting around from monitor to monitor playing tag and presumably checking the systems for anything suspicious. Scrolling through the monitors herself and doing all her periodic check and confirming that everything continued to be on the up-and-up, she eventually pulled up the feed through which she could see Engel near the security station, and patched into his headset.
"Engel, are you allowed to, say . . . buy eggs while you're there? Like, cute, fluffy baby Pokemon eggs by any chance? Because I'll totally pay." She gnawed on the Twizzler. "Also, besides some hats that should be illegal or have their own air space, no crimes or bad guys so far. Because that is totally my utmost concern, not the possibility of precious fluffy babies. Pshaw."
Seriously though, rich people and their hats. She was pretty sure this one lady was wearing an actual patrat on her head. An electric blue patrat, with a little gold satellite dish and some beads. Maybe she didn't even realize it. Maybe she just picked up this hat with a sleeping little angry rat monster in it and she didn't even notice because all her hats are so insane that it seemed like it belonged there. Or maybe the patrat was supposed to be there. Maybe Lumiose was doing the whole living clothes thing.
CODED BY SYLVIE
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[attr="class","lostandscroll"]Leaning against the back corner of the security hub, Engel couldn’t help but admit he was definitely a bit out of his comfort zone. Not so much with the task of playing guard the fort, or leading a large number of agents in a large environment, he’d done it before after all. He was comfortable with the ear phone he’d gone and taped to his ear to keep from falling out as it’d done before, and he was content with that satellite phone in his pocket Eileen had upgraded or something for him. He was fine working with these various foreign agents, he’d worked in multiple regions, you see? No, the thing that was currently unnerving Engel Werner was the numerous screens and computers and monitors and super high tech set up he was surrounded by. It was something straight out of a sci-fi movie as far as techno-loser Engel was concerned. He hovered in the back, not really opting to try and even tinker with the delicate controls of the cameras and doors. He was in the mother board of the hard drive or… No, that didn’t sound right.
Putting on a perplexed face, he gave that metaphor a moment of thought, before figuring it was out of his league and dropping it. Pressing off the wall, and daring himself to get closer to the various technicians watching the screens like hawks, Engel began to do another pacing stroll through the room. A few other Interpol Agents and Hotel Richissime’s personal security guards were amongst them, also keeping close eyes on monitors and system’s status. All was relatively calm as it got, Engel spotting some of even his own agents following their orders and sweeping across the floors, all well dressed much to his amusement…
Well almost all of them. He’d paused to try and study one of the cameras directed on the Convention Floor when he saw Ace Venchurro sticking out like the one dead pixel on a monitor. He leaned over to try and just simply comprehend what he was staring at, but he already knew full and well just what this was. Despite being told this was a formal event and that the agents would have to dress appropriately for it, there he was in his jeans, his t-shirt, and bright yellow mother fucking vest. Glare fixated on the screen, he reached into his pocket to pull out his phone so not to hog the air ways with this nagging he was about to do. He dug through the contacts and swiftly called up Ace, phone to his ears and eyes still on the screen watching the casual wardrobe wearing moron with utter annoyance. Luckily the technician working the screen Engel was glaring down was content to back off when they picked up on Engel’s frustration.
He watched Ace press his finger to his ear piece, and immediately heard the click of the call being answered. Before the younger agent could even open his mouth, Engel snapped “The hell do you think you’re wearing, Venchurro?”
“Ve—Engel?” the tracker spoke, understandably surprised. Ace was obviously caught off guard judging by the dumbfounded look he had on his face. “I’m wearing clothes?” he answered hesitantly and Engel could almost hear him saying ‘I don’t know what you mean’ but Ace never said it. Many would have assumed this was Ace being a smart ass with that kind of answer, but over time, recruit trainer Engel Werner had come to realize Ace answering with the obvious was because he was a rather daft individual at times.
“I want you to stop right there where you are and look around you at everyone else that is there, and tell me if you notice something” he instructed, watching Ace coming to a stop. “I’ll give you a hint, one of these things is not like the others.”
The way Ace’s head just timidly turned to scan the crowd almost made him laugh, but he kept a straight face as he watched the boy on the monitor. He finally spoke up again after seeming to gather his thoughts to answer this difficult riddle. “Would that one thing be me?”
Oh look, progress. “Yes, Venchurro. That one thing would be you” Engel assured. “Do you know why you’re not like the others?”
At this point he almost expected some attempt of optimism by Ace describing himself as some special snowflake but the boy answered in honest as he should. Judging by the expression on his face, he already knew he was in trouble. “I’m not in a suit?”
And then it slowly dawned on Engel that Ace was answering these questions rather well, almost as if he’d given this whole thing a good portion of thought. The little shit knew he fucked up. This is what happens when he let Venchurro out of his sight of just one big mission, the kid forgets how to properly dress himself. After a pause to make this analysis, Engel said “See, you knowing the answers to all of my current concerns just makes me wander what the fuck you were thinking when you came dressed like that?”
“What?” came a rather quick response, Ace seeming a bit distressed but genuinely puzzled. “It’s not like I’m part of this event.” Except he was. “I’m patrolling and watching like a Rufflet.” See, part of the event, idiot. “Besides, suits are uncomfortable and I’m not standing behind a booth.” Neither is that man in a suit that just walked past you – argument invalid. “There’s so many people here anyway, I blend in fine.”
The flattest of deadpans crossed Engel’s face as he leaned back from the monitor, rather done at this point. Pressing his hand to his face, he was ready to rip Ace a new one, honestly. “Dress pants and a dress shirt would’ve been a hundred times better than coming in your current clothes. You don’t blend in, you stick out like a sore thu—” No, there was no use going into the whole ‘you fucked up speech’ because a simple glance at the monitor let Engel know Ace was well aware of that. With a heavy sigh, he was quick to just wrap this whole matter up. “If you come to the event tomorrow, dressed like that, I will personally kick your ass so hard you will fly out of the building and into the nearest clothing store to get yourself some proper Arceus damn attire.” There was a brief pause as he saw Ace’s terrified look and he quickly added on “And at least use like a head band to get your bangs out of your face or something.”
“Will do En—Werner” Ace quickly responded with some curt nods as he fled from the camera’s view. Message successfully delivered, Engel gave a short ‘you better’ before hanging up and heading out of the security office to try and get some of the fresh air flowing from the Loading Dock into the halls of the Storage and Security areas of the hotel. He probably should be a fair bit easier on Ace, but with his fellow officers and commanders mentioning Ace having potential for promotion, little mistakes like that could seriously cost him. Engel had been pretty much babying Ace since he was recruited, it was time he really just started to back off. With that in mind, it’d be as he started making headway for the coldest parts of the Hotel that he’d hear another voice suddenly chime in his ear.
“Engel” the familiar voice of Eileen began with what he could only assume to be a peculiar question judging by her tone “are you allowed to say… buy eggs while you’re there? Like, cute, fluffy baby Pokémon eggs by chance? Because I’ll totally pay.” He looked up at one of the security cameras he passed as if to shoot a small look at Eileen but he couldn’t help but give an amused smile as she rambled on a bit further about some of the ridiculous hats she’d seen. When she came back to her point about the eggs, Engel gave a slow nod as the space heater he’d dragged from Kalos HQ to the hotel came into view. He brought a black gloved hand up to his ear to lightly click on the mic of his radio in his ear.
“Yes, sweetheart. Your shopping wish is but my command” he playfully retorted as he patted one of his pockets and began to work out a package of gum. Nicotine gum to try and hold off that strong desire to light up, he had to make do in the no smoking areas of the hotel. “What cha need? I’m basically in the stock room; I’ll just ask one of the workers to go talk to the owner if I find it and set up the deal” he explained, pulling his hand back from the ear piece to wait for her answer. Coming to a stop by the space heater, Engel popped the nicotine gum in his mouth and silently prayed for it to be just a bit stronger. He’d almost considered buying a box of patches, but this was cheaper at the convenience store he’d gone to. Hands being shoved into the pockets of his thick Interpol uniform jacket, he relished in the warmth of the heater against the overall chill of the area. With the sound of another truck pulling out, Engel glanced up from the heater in time to see the workers were starting to come back. He eyed them curiously, having made it a small effort to try and talk to some of them for various reasons. Most of them were men with hungry families back home; a couple of college students but all of them that he’d met had the common goal of just trying to make ends meet.
As they approached, he slowly slid back to stay out of their way, idly chewing on his gum as he eyed the crew members that approached. He’d managed to talk to pretty much all of the ones in this little gathering except the last one to join the herd around the heater. Black hair, blue eyes, tan from being outside often, he was fairly tall and wore a rather interesting trench coat unlike the others whom wore just common heavy jackets for the weather. He supposed you had to make do with what you had, and for this guy, that odd coat was it, he figured. Or maybe he just had a peculiar taste in clothes, like Engel was one to talk. Despite being a police officer, his style outside of uniform was more of the punk and grunge persuasion. Either way, as Tham and the group approached, one of the workers would recognize him and call out “Good afternoon, Engel!”
“Afternoon” Engel greeted back and nodded to the heater. “Don’t mind me, just keeping an eye on the heater for you guys” he joked with a light chuckle, some of the workers chuckling a bit as well as they settled down around the space heater. He continued to idly banter with a few of the workers, glancing occasionally to the quieter ones before figuring he might as well introduce himself to the one in the crowd he hadn’t yet. Looking over at Jason as another laugh trailed off, Engel inclined his head towards him in silent acknowledgment. “I just realized, I don’t think I’ve gotten your name yet, actually” he began, pulling one of his gloved hands from his pocket and offering it to Jason. “Engel Werner, I’m one of the Interpol agents working here for the duration of the convention” he said. “You one of the volunteers or you actually work for the hotel?”
Might as well make some small talk to pass the time.
NOTES
Engel is wearing his uniform since he doesn't have to be out on the convention floor.
Sorry about the wait you two, and the text wall of a post.
Approaching the heater, it seemed like the dock workers weren't the only ones who'd gotten it into their heads that it was a good place to be. Granted, Interpol's people had been the ones to set it up in the first place, but somehow Jason had gotten it into his head that it was probably far warmer inside the hotel than it was out on the loading docks. Not the storage units, obviously, as those doors were left open to the receiving area practically all day. And all night. The hotel had odd hours, Jason gave it that much, and while it made sense to always have someone up front at the reception desk in the lobby he really didn't understand some of the delivery hours. In any case, though, it seemed like the security center inside probably wasn't much warmer than it was outside, and in a weird sort of way that made Jason appreciate his current job that much more, however he might have silently complained about it. At least in the shipping center he was moving - being forced to basically sit and watch a dozen screens or so for the slightest hint of trouble both seemed extremely uncomfortable and asking for a screw up in conditions like that. That did bring up an interesting question, though - was the hotel trying to cut back operating costs with their heating, or did someone up in management just have it out for Interpol being as conspicuous as they were? Can't have made a few of the guests feel easy with their every move watched, and the same went for the workers, Jason himself in particular.
Well, at the very least it wasn't like Jason didn't know how to stay under the radar, and as much as he might have loathed his first actual job - for lack of a better word - it had taught him a few things. That and, truth be told, there was a certain irony here. Virtually all of the challenge from that work came from either one of two places - private security firms who knew what they were doing, or Interpol itself who had probably been devoting the vast majority of their time and effort to dealing with Rocket. It was only once or twice that Jason had crossed paths with them back then and he'd thankfully managed to avoid being identified or even meeting face to mask, so to speak, but if there was anything Jason had to give them it was that they were organized. Unfortunately, that also made you predictable. Any logical system was, but anything less than that left holes in the net left and right. Granted, such a show of force was probably going to deter anyone from doing anything, at least from an academic standpoint, but it was almost a mental game of sorts that Jason would find himself playing from time to time, looking at setups like this and figuring the quickest and most efficient way to dismantle it. In this case? Lock down the security room to cut Interpol out of the system, use that to separate and lock down individual sections of the building and then deal with each cell while it was isolated and disorganized. Special consideration being given to the operational head of the group, more specifically one of the very men sitting by the space heater at that very moment, and as Jason moved to sit down he found himself pausing slightly mid thought as the man spoke to him.
"Sorry, I'll admit that I don't really spread it around much. Jason, and kind of the latter? It was originally just meant to be an in between jobs thing, I didn't really expect to still be working here a couple of weeks after the fact." Jason replied, glancing down at the man's offered hand for a moment in silent debate before awkwardly taking and shaking it slightly. Werner was definitely not from the usual mold as far as Interpol went. Generally speaking it was only the gofers and other menial taskworkers within the organization that often bothered with talking to the help, especially on field operations like this. More often than not that was how he'd managed to slip by them before - getting hired as wait staff or a room cleaner, people with easy access to entire buildings like this and who were rarely questions with little to no documentation beyond a basic employment sheet with a name and numbers, all things easily faked. In this case, though, Jason was honestly perplexed - half of him wondered if the guy was really that unorthadox to the point that he was checking on each and every possible security breach and evaluating them himself, or if he was just that friendly. Jason knew which part of his mind had come up with the former explanation, and it was that same part that warned caution. Too much of which would only draw Interpol's attention to him, so for the time being Jason would go with the latter. He had no quarrel with them, and as long as they didn't know who he was they had none with him. Everyone could mind their own business and end the day on a happy note.
[attr="class","runawayinfo"]Claiming the two reserved pixel ducks. And then hell did rain down.
NOTHING I'VE EVER DONE RIGHT HAPPENED ON THE SAFE SIDE
Eileen waved slightly at the monitor as Engel looked up at the camera, a habit though he couldn't see it. Her pixel duck toddled across the screen between them as she followed his progress toward the space heater. The tech goddess perked up a bit, glowing at the playful response as her eyes flickered to a different monitory momentarily to check on things. All quiet on the eastern front. She looked back at Engel, squinting to see what he drew out of his pocket. Satisfied that it wasn't cigarettes, she went about checking screens again.
"My top criteria is adorable," she chirped. Honestly she had been half-expecting a "no," so she hadn't expected to get this far. "Maybe like a baby Clefairy, or a skitty. Skitties, Engel, they're like gifts from- from above, but not like space above. Though I have a lot of opinions on alien cats. But puppies are cute too . . . or foxes. Maybe you could surprise me . . ."
Her eyes drifting to a corner screen up on her left as what she thought was just her pixel duck again caught her eye. Only.
Wait. Wait just one minute.
The pixel duck bobbed out from behind an open camera application, and it would have been all peaches and cream if that had been it, but it turned, beeped, and nodding forward, and then bobbing along behind Primary Pixel Duck came another pixel duck. And before she could rub her eyes and squint up yet again, came another one. Three pixel ducks, hovering on the screen, beeping at each other.
"You don't know Double Team," she muttered, mouth away from her headset. She watched the trio of Porygon stop beeping amongst themselves and in a frantic little ducky row began to swarm down toward one of the closer monitors. This wasn't right. Something was not right.
Forgetting Engel, Eileen's focus shifted entirely toward the security system, a flurry of keystrokes beginning, her eyes darting over the various data sets and diagnostics that flashed over the monitors. There shouldn't have been anyone else in the system. Her Pokemon were definitely the only ones that had been inside when she started. And if any others had entered, she should have seen it, shouldn't she have? The Porygon meanwhile had stopped on the monitor just to her right and were doing panicked circles, trying to convey a message she would try to decipher by pouring over the code. It had to be nothing, right, a fluke? No. No it couldn't be. Where had they gotten in? What-
No no no no . . .
She brought her fingers up from the keyboard, scooting back a couple of inches in her seat and looking up at the monitors. She didn't know how she had missed it. It must have been so well hidden. It must have been there before they gave her the system, for days, weeks even, waiting to get triggered. It was inside already, it had taken everything, she couldn't . . .
She was too late.
"Engel? . . . Engel. There are too many duckies."
CODED BY SYLVIE
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Post by Engel Werner on Dec 6, 2014 17:28:59 GMT -5
Enter Luxury!
During a break, another truck has come in and a few of the NPC workers volunteer to go ahead and take care of it, leaving you and a few others to huddle around the heater. Several minutes after leaving the STORAGE area to start gathering the contents of the truck in the LOADING DOCKS, a few of the other workers begin to pull on gas masks. The room is suddenly, without warning, overwhelmed by a cloud of Sleeping Powder. Before passing out, the workers and Interpol agents present begin to see the beginnings of the Hotel Richissime take over. Luxury NPCs start to file in and begin to move the bodies aside and take to restraining them, a section break off to go through the KITCHEN connected to the STORAGE room to begin spreading throughout the convention. All Interpol agents that try to call out a warning are quickly overwhelmed by the number of Luxury NPCs present at the time. All occupants of the STORAGE and SECURITY section not of Luxury alliance find themselves unconscious within minutes.
Eileen has witnessed the whole scenario and will already be notifying the remaining agents at Kalos HQ of what is happening. Help is on the way, but not fast enough to prevent Eileen from getting locked out of the system.
When the occupants awake, you find yourselves now trapped in the STORAGE room. It’s significantly darker, with only the dim glow of the emergency backup lights keeping the place lit. It seems the power has been shut off, the hotel is now only running on generators, now. A startling crackle of static from the intercom system stirs you awake before all fall silent again. Looking around, the STORAGE room is in the process of being emptied by the Luxury NPCs hard at work unloading supplies into the waiting empty trucks outside. The Interpol Agents and innocent workers have all been lined up against the wall farthest from the door to the LOADING DOCK. Trying to move, you’ll find your wrists are being restrained by zip ties and when looking over your persons, all Pokémon, pokéballs, gear and expensive items have been taken from you. “Testing, testing” a man’s voice with a thick Kalosian accent suddenly came from the speakers. It helps stir you enough to see that all of your supplies are on a few crates across the way being guarded by a couple of NPC Luxury guards. Another brief moment of silence followed before a woman who spoke with a lighter accent would suddenly speak up.
“Hello ladies and gentlemen and welcome to the Golden Egg Society Convetion’s second day. Sorry to interrupt or well, no that’s a lie” she explains, her voice sounding calm, pleased and confident. “We’re not sorry at all, in fact we’re quite pleased with the fact we were able to actually pull this off… Oh, yes, I suppose I should explain.” She clears her throat “As of this moment, Hotel Richissime is under the total control of the magnificent Team Luxury. You may not have heard of us, but we’re here to fix that and make sure you never forget it.” She laughs, before stating “All exits have been locked down and to try and nip any acts of rebellion in the butt now...” You can hear a few shouts of surprise from down the hall, sprinkles of the powder that had previously knocked you out begins to shimmer in the light around the ventilation ducts you can see in the STORAGE room.
“You are in confined areas, and it wouldn’t be wise to start throwing stones in glass houses, if you catch my drift. Let’s not make this a blood bath boys and girls, there are children present after all. Just meet our demands and this will be over before you know it. Now, those that are not members of Team Luxury, please take a seat because you will be here for a while. Those who are part of the Luxury club may now begin to gather your chosen loot, which will be handed over without a fight, please and thank you.” The announcement ends and you find yourselves are undoubtedly being held hostage by Team Luxury. Take a moment to gather your bearings before you proceed.
Check on the status of your threadmates, you're gonna need their help to get moving
Escape your zip-tie restraints and take cover without being caught (There are few Luxury NPCs in this area but it's a tight space. The STORAGE room still has plenty of boxes and crates to take cover behind to allow careful navigation through the zone.)
Get your gear, you’ll need Engel’s Satellite phone to get back in Contact with Eileen
The rest of your prompts / objectives will be covered in your Group PMs.
Continue to attempt to regain access to the Hotel Richissime security system, however you may keep getting hit with this stupid error.
Once tweedle dee and tweedle dum finally call you back, update them on the situation as best you can.
The rest of your prompts / objectives will be covered in your Group PMs.
Final Notes!
Do not leave the area you have been trapped in, yet. You are free to decide where your items are located, if you get spotted, start up a little conflict, etc. This is your story with merely me giving you ideas to build off of. However, if I suspect you are making it too easy for yourselves, I am going to cut your story short.
If you are in need of NPC info, tell me how many NPCs you need in your group PM and I can send you the details of a few of the NPCs.
HELPFUL HINTS: Interpol agents have already been trained in how to escape from zip tie restraints. It's going to hurt, but just follow this video. For those with no experience escaping zip ties, you can go ahead and try to get your stuff back so one of your Pokemon can help you.
[attr="class","letitscroll"]“My top criteria is adorable” he heard the ever bubbly Eileen Paulsen decree. Adorable, huh? Shouldn’t be too hard, especially as the pinkette would continue to ramble on about the suggestions of what she’d be interested in. At least this was one person he wouldn’t have a hard time getting presents for this Christmas. She was an open book about her wish list and no matter what item he chose to give her from aforementioned list, she’d be just as surprised and excited about it. “I’ll see what I can do” he assured before his focus was solely on the workers he’d come by to check up on. As mentioned before, Engel had taken it upon himself to try and at least introduce himself to all of them and get an idea of who should be out here and who should not be.
In the process of introducing himself to another face he’d yet to notice, Engel took the brief moment to memorize Jason’s name as the other would hesitate to take his offered hand. From the awkward grip, hand shake, and the way Jason had begun his introduction, it didn’t really take much for Engel to realize that this worker was a bit more reclusive than the others there. A handshake told a lot, and Jason’s reaction to it gave Engel a good base to build off of in observations with this young man in particular. He let go of his hand shortly after the slight shake and once more pocketed his own hands again. “Temp job turning long term?” he questioned, before cracking a small smile. “Yeah, I know that feeling. I used to do a bunch of jobs like this myself when I was younger. Some I figured I’d do a couple of days, and then before I know it, I’ve been workin’ retail for a month or loading moving vans for the whole summer” he remarked with a sigh and shake of his head. “But just inbetween jobs for you then, huh? What’s the next job you’re aiming for?” Engel inquired, part of that recruiter in his brain habitually wanting to tack on the mention of Interpol always having open positions. However, he withheld that comment for now to see what kind of jobs Jason was considering for after this set up.
However, he’d never get his answer because that’d when things begin to take their turn for the unnerving. Another truck pulled up, and a few of the workers started to get up but a few of them were told to just sit back down by some of the others. Engel looked around at the crowd curiously, before he noticed a few of the workers look his way. One or two stared longer than he was comfortable with and there was suddenly a tense feeling in the air for him. Several years on the force and you could start to pick up on this kind of calm before the storm, and his eyes slowly trailed over the remaining workers that blissfully resumed being settled around the heater. His hand began to rise back up to tap into the Interpol line to get a status report when suddenly he’d hear a rather… Odd final message.
“Engel?” He didn’t like that tone. “Engel. There are too many duckies.”
He tapped down on the button immediately, knowing what duckies referred to after enough time of coming to learn Eileen lingo. “Talk to me, what are they doi—?” his question was cut off when he saw there some of the workers in a group away from those huddled around the heater were beginning to pull on gas masks. Immediately he dropped his question to grab at the collar of his turtle neck under shirt and pull it up over his mouth and nose – unfolding the cloth to show the collar of his shirt had been specifically designed to be capable of covering his face. However, that’s all it was meant to do, the little filtering it did with the air wouldn’t be enough for what was about to be unleashed on them. He shut off the heater suddenly to get the focus of the workers who’d immediately cease their chatter when the loud source of heat was silenced. “Get inside and start a lock down of the storage area now” he ordered, the confused workers trying to ask why, but Engel wasn’t sticking around to explain. He was grabbing the heater and yanking it out of the way so the door could be shut without the distraction of the warmth. Turning swiftly on his heel, he tried to make his way back inside and back to the security zone, but he’d only manage to get a couple of steps before he’d see the path was already blocked by a few men and women wearing gas masks.
It was too late.
He reached for his ear, but the moment his arm went up several of the gas mask wearing individuals would overwhelm him. Each arm grabbed, Engel was immediately lifted off his feet and thrown harshly to the ground. The impact was hard enough to knock the wind out of him, spitting out the gum in his mouth and briefly his mind would go on the fritz from the impact with the unforgiving cement. The workers whirling around to see what the hell was going on would be distracted long enough for the thick cloud of Sleeping Powder to begin to sweep its way through the area. Engel’s brain clicked back into gear and he’d fight to reach for his headset, fingers just barely brushing the button before a foot would suddenly stomp down on his hand with no remorse and signal a loud shout of pain to escape the commander. He quickly swung up a leg to kick his hand free, but in the process would lose the precious cover he had made for himself. The cloth covering his face was ripped down, nails scratching his face, and he desperately held his breath as he kicked one of the grunts off of his other arm but the badge proudly displayed on his chest was nothing more than a target at this point.
Another stomp down on Engel and he lost hold of his breath, sucking in a sharp gasp of air and powder. Kicking off another grunt and trying to get up, the ability to keep his eyes open was shaky at best. The world tilted left and right, leaving him looking like a new born deerling trying to stand up for the first time. He grabbed slowly at the heater as a means of support to help him get up, but his body was already shutting down as a result of the huge huff of powder he’d already taken in. The sounds of bodies hitting the ground started to become unnervingly clear in his fading consciousness and he’d manage to get up to his feet only for one of the Luxury agents to push him right back down with ease. His head slowly rolled to see the workers dropping around him and with a labored breath he remembered just before he lost the battle against the powder… He really fucking hated the sight of people sleeping.
A harsh coughing fit would be the unfortunate means of pulling Engel from his slumber, rocking his body back and forth with enough action that a few of the Luxury guards turned to stare him down in silent anticipation. However the sleepy Commander wasn’t ready for action, yet. Eyes still glazed over, the world didn’t seem to register for him as his head slowly craned back until it rested against the stone wall he was rested against. His body shivered with the cold chill of the room and a gradual look down at himself would reveal his turtle neck sweater, belt, and vest of gear and pokéballs were gone. A soft scoff of annoyance escaped him and he rolled his shoulders slightly, the motion just enough to alert him to the fact his hands were bound behind his back. Fantastic, he mentally remarked before a crackle of static would rip his attention from his inconvenient moment of being a hostage to some unknown team.
“Testing, testing” an unfamiliar voice resounded and Engel slowly bowed his head as he realized what that voice alone implied. Before the woman would step forward to announce the fact, Commander Werner was well aware that he was no longer in control of this situation. His comrades in the security room, the Convention floor, Dining room, everywhere, were probably all likely succumbing to the teams now. A glance up towards the loudly operating ventilation and he could see the remnants of sleeping powder slipping out of a few cracks in front of the emergency lights poorly illuminating the room. His senses were start to come back to him more properly now, and a crane of his neck would reveal to him that he’d been set apart from his operatives that were still out cold in against a different wall. The room was cold enough that he could see his breath, and the sound of an engine rumbling, crates being moved, things were still rather active in this area of the building. A dull ache in his throughout body would alert to him that someone had taken the time to rough him up some while he was completely out cold. Cowardly, but not worth harboring on right now, he needed to get back control of the security room as soon as possible.
His head slowly came back up after some silent processing to see beside him was the worker whom he’d been talking to before the shit hit the fan. He was starting to wake up, which meant the other workers were likely to wake up soon as well. Engel watched… Jason, was it? Yeah. Jason start to stir and he leaned forward to try and get into his field of vision. “Hey” he softly called out, and paused to shoot a look over towards the Luxury agents in the area. It seemed the activity and likely the woman giving her speech was just loud enough to cover their murmuring for now. Looking back to Jason, he did a quick scan of the other man to get an idea of what he might be working with and – now that his coat had been taken from him – Engel took notice of the build he was sporting and a look at the other workers would show that Jason was a bit more on the lithe side rather than built like tanks like most of the storage workers. It’d be easier for him to maneuver through this area of boxes and crates. If he didn’t have a panic attack upon waking up, he’d work for now until one of the other agents woke up. Engel glanced back over at Jason and quietly asked “Jason, right? You okay?”
Kind of a funny question coming from a man who had a bit of blood on him from the beating he took while unconscious and those scratches, too, but whatever.
Post by Jason Tham on Dec 10, 2014 22:45:01 GMT -5
NO LONGER WILL I HAVE TO REWIND THE PAST
If there was any one thing in this world that Jason was able to appreciate above all else, it was admittedly irony, and that was never more apparent to him the moment a few of his coworkers, people that Jason had believed he'd known, began to pull on gas masks after the next truck pulled in. Jason had never known himself to have told a lie, but the art of deception was something that had been integral to his very survival at more than one point - and the fact that more than one person had pulled it off at once and fooled him of all people couldn't help but ring of a twisted sort of humor. As did the fact that if anyone there knew who he actually was and what he'd done, chances are he'd have been the among the first to be targeted as soon as the sleeping powder hit the bay, and that they likely would not have left him alive, or at least in any shape to move. More than anything it was that one tiny fact that Jason took solace in as his body grew heavy and his eyelids began to fall on their own - it meant that there was still likely going to be a way out of whatever was happening.
At the very least, however, the return to consciousness was far more pleasant. Having been sitting on the chair by the space heater and not made any move to get up or resist, both out of confusion and realizing that the invasion was already over by the time he pieced things together, Jason had thankfully been spared what he could only assume were rather painful falls to concrete, at least judging from the sparse moans and groans of pain and annoyance from the rest of the dock crew that had been uninvolved. What had woken Jason up in the first place, though, was far less pleasant as a voice that Jason didn't recognize as belonging to any of the hotel staff began to make itself known over the intercomm.
Luxury, bluntly put, was a name that Jason had never heard before, either back during his previous line or work or since arriving in Kalos. At least not in that context, anyways, and that more than anything else confused him. Where did people like that come from if they weren't already affiliated with the last well known Team in the region? Splinter faction? Maybe, but that didn't really change much, Jason's distaste for the situation overall included. This, frankly, was supposedly the whole reason Ricki had made that deal with her Rocket associate - to keep people like this out of their lives, and while Jason had always known it was a possibility that her past might catch up to her as it did with him Jason had never really considered the possibility that either one of them would get caught in a crossfire like this. Considering that he'd deliberately been going out of his way to actually avoid complications like this... if these kinds of problems were going to find him anyways, he definitely wasn't getting paid enough to work the receiving center as much as he did.
Still, again with that silver lining from before. At the very least Jason himself was all but unharmed. Still a little unfocused, but that just came with waking up after being drugged into an unconscious state - he could look like the next guy over, and probably one of the many situations where wearing a uniform didn't help. One of the major reasons it paid not to look like a threat, but the question was what to do now. Sitting in here was definitely an option, but Jason had a feeling that Interpol wasn't just going to sit this out. Their people were nothing if not tenacious, and if Luxury was only just now getting the show started they were either very far behind schedule or someone in charge had a flair for theatrics, not a good trait when working underground. Nor was it a smart idea to use only a single zip tie on a person's wrists if you planned to keep them out of the way - at least three there to keep someone from simply snapping them off, and bind the ankles, too. There was literally nothing to stop Jason or the other workers from getting up and wandering the storage area if they really wanted to, and that led to problems for any prospective captor.
With the Interpol agent that Jason had been speaking to earlier already awake, however, the man had conflicting feelings about being spoken to again. The words were right, but the tone... Jason didn't like that tone. Nothing malicious about it, quite the opposite, but there was something in the guy's voice that spoke of improvisation based on opportunity, and going off of Jason's earlier assumptions concerning Interpol's response to this whole mess... he had a feeling that he knew where this was going to go, regardless of the words used when he responded. Then again, another thought also occurred to Jason, one that boded far worse for the hotel in general if his timing was off or if a certain someone got home earlier than anticipated. With that in mind, any real thoughts of trying to talk his way out of the Interpol commander's intended plan - assuming, again, that Jason was right on that count - vanished. Far better to deal with a few bruises and cuts trying to solve the problem before things spiraled out of either faction's control - at the very least he was likely considered a hostage since he hadn't been beaten as the Interpol officer was, which meant the worse he'd likely get were a few kicks and punches before being thrown back here with better restraints until this was over.
"Yes, I'm fine. Nothing broken?" Maybe not the best question, but at the very least Jason wanted to make sure that either of them had a shot at this before agreeing to anything. To be completely honest? On his own Jason could very easily break his restraints, free the other workers and get off of the property while they fought back, and while that was arguably the most sensible thing to do, something about it just didn't seem right. The idea of dealing with the situation quietly appealed to him far more, although whether that was because of his old training or just personal preference not to involve anyone else was up to debate. Problem was, that wouldn't work unless he was able to move unimpeded, which was either going to be on his own or with someone else who wasn't trying to work through a broken or cracked bone.
NOTHING I'VE EVER DONE RIGHT HAPPENED ON THE SAFE SIDE
Error messages swarmed her screens, command boxes force-closing and streams of data she didn't recognize flashing into view before shutting again, leaving her back on the home screen of the ICPO desktop, not that of the hotel. She gasped as though she had been hit, the Porygon flowing out of the monitors to do their frantic dance around her desk.
“Talk to me, what are they doi—?” He stopped, and a quiet whimpering tore its way out of the back of Eileen's throat as she scrambled to try to get the communication back, but it wasn't dead. Not yet, anyway - Engel just wasn't talking, and she amped the volume up on her end as she swung her focus back to the computers. She had to reestablish a line inside, jam something in before the whole thing closed up on her - the access codes repeating over and over in her head to get into the hotel security as her fingers hammered the keyboard.
She could hear fighting. No, no no no no please no not Engel . . .
The comm line clicked off. Really off this time. She couldn't hear Engel, she couldn't hear what they were doing to him. The slow build of fear splintering out, clawing her at all sides and her fingers stopped, Eileen ducking her head over the keyboard, the quiet, strangled plea of, "Come back," prompting the trio of Porygon to dive back in the computers to try to help. They poked at the error windows, their bodies going staticky each time they did.
This could not be happening. They were supposed to have been ready for something like this. She was supposed to have been ready for something like this. No one was supposed to get hurt. They were supposed to get the bad guys before they could do anything.
Everyone was in there. Her Engel was in there, Ace and Rhafa and Vesty Red Head and - and -
Eileen slammed her fists down on the desk, pushing off of it and jumping to her feet, moving out from behind the desk to look out at the rest of the Lumiose tech unit, still unaware of what had just gone down. Most of them weren't set on the Richissime case - a handful were, but they hadn't had the access Eileen did and couldn't have seen the takeover as she had.
"Hey!" They couldn't hear her through the thick glass walls and their own business. "HEY!" She reached over and hit a key command that sent her screens onto theirs and all the monitors in the unit, with her other hand snatching up a stapler. She launched it at the wall, the shatterproof glass shaking briefly in its holding but without even a crack as the stapler clattered to the ground, the resounding sound of the crash making everyone jump and look over at the hacker who seemed ready to kill.
"There's been a TAKEOVER and we need response teams at Richissime! And someone get me the Director NOW!"
There was a pause, just a fraction of second, as Eileen sucked in a ragged breath, glare set on the whole of the tech unit, everyone looking from her to their screens. And then the hurricane of motion commenced, phones picked up and instructions shot back and forth, people pulling back into their desks and dozens of fingers hitting keyboards. Eileen swung back over to her desk, dropping back into her seat and rolling in, dragging the keyboard closer and setting her glare on the legion of error messages flooding her screen. No more time to panic. Whoever was behind this had been working on it for months, sure, and Eileen had only gotten the access that day. But agencies like Interpol didn't hire people like Eileen just for charity.
"Oh, I'll give you the magic word alright."
CODED BY SYLVIE
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[attr="class","letitscroll"]Nothing broken? Engel gave his hands a little movement, his wrist silently signaling pain, but he’d make do. It wasn’t broken; he knew the feeling of a broken bone when he had it. However, the brutal stomp from before may have weakened it, but it was luckily not his dominant hand. He’d just have to be careful. With a curt nod, he glanced back over at Jason. “Just my pride” he lightly joked, maintaining his cool. It wouldn’t do any good to let that panic inside show, trying to keep his nerves calm and the air light was the best means of avoiding panic. Judging by the initial reaction from Jason upon waking up seeming to be an equal level of calmness, it was a relieving response – if not a bit odd. However, Engel wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Any time spent trying to prevent a panic attack was precious time being wasted. His eyes trailed away from Jason, Engel falling silent as he took a moment to survey what part of the storage area he could see and continue the little plan formulating in his head.
Most of the Luxury agents had gathered around a few crates where he could see an array of items reflecting the shine of the dull emergency lights. Focusing carefully, he spotted watches and phones, some expensive items just left to the side along with a bucket of nothing but pokéballs. Guess they just wanted to go through things here before moving it to a truck or to the security room, whatever he wasn’t going to pick at a flaw in a plan. A good survey and he could see there was still a lot of boxes stacked pretty high around them, it seemed they hadn’t made much of a dent in the Storage room yet. The previous time being out cold must have been spent getting everyone out of the back and secured in here instead. However, he could hear the rumbling of a semi in the distance waiting for the loot more than likely.
Next he’d note the storage room was pretty bare bones as far as construction had gone. Cement walls, wires and ducting was carefully weaved through the ceiling where long industrial support beams would support the weight of the building to give the storage space as much open space as possible to stock inventory in. Around some of the ducts, he could see falling like glitter the signs of oddly colored dust slipping out of some cracks. Sleeping powder was still going through the air ways. He began to make a head count of the Luxury agents, slowly scanning the crowd before his head slowly bowed back down as the approaching footsteps of one of the patrolling guards approached. The woman would carry on pass them to head towards the Interpol agents with a sharp gaze.
Bringing his head slowly back up to look towards Jason, Engel weighed his options. Going solo with the plan hatching in his mind would guarantee an almost permanent solo trek for the majority of what he needed to do, though. The halls were filled with Luxury agents if earlier meant anything, and he was a target. While he was no stranger to being solo in dangerous territory, he typically preferred the idea of someone watching his back, no matter who it was as long as they were able and on his side. “Jason… I hate having to ask this” he began, saying the words Jason had pretty much predicted coming. “And I’m not going to let you help if you force yourself to say yes to this request. I’d rather work with someone willing than obligated, even with this bullshit situation” he grumbled, turning his gaze to keep a close eye on Jason’s body language. If he forced himself to help, and it was obvious, it wouldn’t be worth putting the civilian at risk because it was going to likely be a guaranteed bust.
“But I need help and I have a plan… I can see the powder slipping out from some of the cracks in the ducts; they’re likely filled to the brim right now to get the whole hotel out cold. The guys in charge try and cut the flow short and they risk leaving a lot of people still awake… If we get our hands on a couple of the gas masks the agents in here are still toting around, one of us busts the duct system and floods the room with powder, and the other uses the distraction and cover to grab our stuff from that crate over.” He nodded towards the crates being used as tables for the gear and pokéballs. “We move fast enough and we should have a good chance to make it to the back and out of the way before they even know which of their hostages just went MIA.” With a pause to look around and ensure he wasn’t just overhead, though he was speaking low to have the activity around him cover his speaking, Engel’s eyes rested once more on Jason. His gaze was sharp and critical, before he said “If you think you can take out a the ducting or grab the gear, I’ll show you how to get out of the zip ties. If not, I’m ready to give it a shot by myself.”
Post by Jason Tham on Dec 12, 2014 22:14:53 GMT -5
NO LONGER WILL I HAVE TO REWIND THE PAST
And yeah, there it was. Jason knew it was coming, but that didn't make him any less disheartened to hear the agent ask, specifically, for his help in the matter. Something that told Jason that the line that Werner had fed him earlier about it only being his pride that had been injured was a complete lie, even if nothing was actually broken. Jason might not have been the best person for dealing with people as individuals, but as things to be observed and understood... that was the one skill that had made him so successful in the past, and that went for both habits and body language. Small as the movement might have been, there was always a tell tale shift in weight, and the fact that Werner had to pause and check - either one of his hands or something larger connected to them - before answering Jason's question basically told Jason everything he needed to know. Not broken, but not in peak condition, either, and that meant slower, weaker. Not something that was ideal if you intended to do something that was going to require any degree of quickness or precision. More than that, something you didn't want to go into a fight with - most physical, person to person fights weren't nearly as one sided as fiction liked to make it, and there was a very good reason Jason preferred to hit when he wasn't expected. If Engel went into a fight with an injury? Any competent opponent would take full advantage of it, and there was only so much someone could do to compensate for that.
That being said, though, at least the man's mind seemed to be intact, and thankfully governed by logic and reason rather than simply wanting to strike back. Werner's plan made sense, and Jason could verify with his own eyes that it was possible. Theoretically speaking, anyways. He could likewise still see some of the dust from the overhead vents as well, and that gave them options, options that he was far more grateful for than Werner probably realized. There really hadn't been much to stop him from catching that Grunt who had wandered by earlier, for instance, but the method used would've involved something that Jason had made a point to promise himself he wouldn't even consider again. Head meets concrete, concrete typically wins, and while it would've been quick, silent and probably painless on the Grunt's part that would've been assuming she ever woke up from it. So, no, between older methods and the sleeping powder? Jason would've gladly taken the latter every single time. That wasn't to say, though, that the plan wasn't without one major hole in it, and something that Jason could not help but notice. So far Werner's proposed escape attempt had included basically everything except one critical step, and while it was somewhat implied in how the man worded things Jason was hoping it wasn't that straightforward.
"I'll help, but when you mentioned the masks... you want to use force?" It might've seemed like an overly obvious answer, but Jason was really, really hoping that wasn't the case. Force was risky, especially in a situation like this - Jason could think of a number of ways to do it without alerting the other Grunts in the room, but the vast majority of those methods had two problems. First, most of them were lethal, and second, the ones that didn't involve a rather unhealthy case of sudden death were generally far more distinctive than he would've preferred, and would more than likely catch the agent's attention in a way that Jason would very much like to avoid. Effective as they may be and as perfectly suited to this situation as said techniques may have been, normal people did not have either the skill or experience to perform aerial take downs from above with minimal sound. Given Werner's profession? He more than likely knew this.
"I'll go for the gear. You said you were fine, but you're still bleeding a bit. They're just cuts but the last thing we need is someone noticing blood on the floor where it shouldn't be while you're moving around the room." Jason replied, taking a moment to answer Engel's question as he thought it over. Perfectly sound logic, but Jason's own personal reasoning was a bit different. He didn't like vents. Really, really didn't like them. They were small, cramped, easy to get lost in even with a map and were generally a lot more dangerous than most people would care to think - that, and contrary to popular belief they were not secret passageways to any place inside the building. More often than not they were the only route to certain locations given all of that, though, since no one in their right mind would resort to them under normal circumstances, and if Jason didn't have to go near the opening of one much less crawling around inside another in his life time it would be all too soon.
[attr="class","letitscroll2"]Engel is out of the ties, once Jason's out feel free to have them both move for cover and Engel will give the speed tutorial on the rear naked choke hold.
[attr="class","letitscroll"]Watching closely for a flinch, a sign of fear, forced bravery or a nervous twitch, Engel was in desperate times, which called for desperate measures, but not dumb force. He waited, allowing Jason to process the situation, the plan and proposal, weighing their options before he’d look back to Engel. The commander was both pleased and genuinely surprised with the response. Not even fazed, the man had t"urned to him with logic and focus rather than some sort of bizarre fantasy of being a hero like you saw in those bullshit action flicks. This? This he could work with. However, he had to wander what led to such a response, what kind of life had this man led to leave him still so controlled in this terrifying situation. By now, Engel imagined a few of the greenhorns on his team were probably struggling to focus back on their own training, yet this civilian was ready to do what it took to get out.
He could use this.
Regarding the masks, Engel’s eyes trailed over the selection of grunts around them, identifying the best targets to be a couple of the younger men just standing nearby eyeing the crates – possibly waiting for orders. Starting an all out brawl for a takedown would be stupid, they’d have to use force, but something more subtle. The choke holds rattling through his mind, there was one for sure he could think of that might be the best go to for this scenario. All it required was being fast enough to pull it off, even some of the newer recruits had managed to do it well in training. Glancing back to Jason, he gave a slight nod. “Yeah. I got a hold in mind, I’ve taught it to the new recruits plenty of times I can give you the quick short version of the tutorial” he explained, doing a scan to make sure that the patrolling agent wasn’t nearby.
Once Jason went on further to answer his previous question, Engel wasted no time on starting his plan. Seeing the guard still inspecting the clustered and unconscious Interpol agents, he swiftly swept his arms under his body to bring them in front of himself. Biting down on the little part of excess zip tie that was left, he gave a harsh tug on it, working on tightening the tie’s grip as far as he could. His eyes never left the woman as he listened to Jason’s reasoning and gave a curt nod before bringing his arms up over his head. Thrusting them downwards towards his chest and snapping the tie, Engel immediately shoved his arms behind his back and held them there. In the process of tightening and prepping the previous action, he’d managed to reveal the extent of the damage done to his left hand. Scraped to hell and his wrist was definitely a fair bit more fragile, he had to be careful. Fortunately, said hand was not his dominant hand, but still it was in a more fragile state in comparison to his other one.
“I’ll keep watch, just do what I just did” he informed and glanced at Jason. “Get it as tight as you can, arms up over your head and thrust down towards your chest and apart. Don’t hesitate or it won’t work. The moment it snaps, get your arms behind your back and wait for my move. We’re gonna get out of view before I show you the hold. Gear wise, I need four of the coms – you’re taking two for yourself – two of the vests, the gadgets should hopefully still be in the pockets if they just went ahead and took the whole thing, and the belt with a Zebstrika, Sigilyph, Vaporeon, Tangela and Treecko. One of the cages likely has my Joltik, let out the Treecko to get her to bust the lock and she’ll grab the Joltik and follow us out.” Engel’s eyes shot back to the guard as she got up and began to do her second walk, passing by them to start inspecting the group of workers clustered up at the other end of the line. Watching her and the other men inspecting the crates, eggs and chatting amongst themselves, there was enough ambience to cover them for now. He just had to hope they were quick enough that the sleeping powder was still filling the duct work by the time he got to it.
Post by Jason Tham on Dec 13, 2014 19:31:42 GMT -5
NO LONGER WILL I HAVE TO REWIND THE PAST
It was funny how Jason more or less knew every answer the other man had to give to his questions, but while that would have comforted most other people to know that they were working with an individual they understood it hardly did anything to set Jason's mind at ease. There were very, very good reasons he had never liked to use force, and it was more than just an aversion to causing pain and injury. Using force was generally a last resort if only because it left room, too much room, for mistakes, and in situations where the odds were not in your favor that was not something you wanted. Murphy's Law had always been one of Jason's favorites if only because it never, ever disappointed - if something could go wrong, chances were that it probably would, and simply assuming that something wouldn't would always leave you vulnerable when it did.
Not that Engel's plan was really any better than anything else Jason could come up with at the moment, though, and that was more or less a testament to how well planned this attack had been. Getting free wouldn't be a problem, especially given that Werner apparently knew the same trick that Jason himself did, but once they were free would be where the problems started. So, they attempted to knock out two Grunts simultaneously. What then, if that wasn't successful? If one took a few seconds more to go down or if one of them knew how to counter a choke hold? All it would take was a lowered chin to block the arm, and a single shout before he and the Interpol agent were swarmed as they had been out on the loading dock. That would leave four to five more to deal with, likely with as many Pokemon. And assuming that he and Engel could get to the vent and let loose the sleeping powder without being caught? All it would take was two of the Grunts noticing and getting their masks back on in time to avoid the soporific, and they'd be done. One Grunt with Pokemon was manageable - only one person needed to get to the trainer, and things would likely be over. Two different ones, each with Pokemon and watching one another's back? Still theoretically possible, but it was further than Jason was willing to press his odds if it came to that. Hopefully, though, it wouldn't.
With the woman from before passing them by again, Jason would wait just long enough for her to walk down past them and towards the far end of the room before hastily repeating Engel's maneuver, wincing only slightly as the plastic dug into the skin on his wrists before snapping. The plan was more or less clear at this point, and talking was not a thing you wanted to be doing if you were trying to take someone by surprise. Given his dark clothing Jason was hoping that the dim lighting would cover the fact that he was missing for a few moments as he quickly got up without a sound and crossed the path in front of where he and Engel had been sitting to take cover behind another stack of shipping containers, hidden from both ends of the room before glancing down to Engel and simply waiting. The moment the Interpol agent moved so would he, approaching the pair that Werner's focus had settled on earlier, an arm suddenly snaking out around the Grunts neck and tightening down on the carotid arteries.
[attr="class","letitscroll2"]Engel instructs Jason on the hold that he already knows in sign language before moving to take down one of the two grunts at the far end of the room. Gas mask and swiss army knife acquired, pokeballs also removed and hidden from the grunt. Engel's split off to handle one of the ducts, once you're in position, he'll rip it open.
[attr="class","letitscroll"]While he didn’t watch Jason’s efforts to snap through the zip ties, he had a feeling the other was handling himself fine. Watching the single woman watching over them, make another pass in front of them after checking those on the far end, Engel would make his move with Jason right on his tail. It was a few feet of silent scurrying before moving into the position he had spotted from his seat. Blocked from most angles of view, the grunts would have to crouch to spot them, perfect. Now was just hurrying before they were noticed, while their dark clothing may have bought them time, it was a moment like this Engel really considered dying his hair. Fucking genetics, but whatever, he had been sitting next to a blond man so hopefully that’d do the trick. Not even pausing to see if they went unnoticed though, Engel immediately turned to Jason to get through the tutorial of the hold.
Keeping quiet, Engel’s body was moving faster than he was processing for a moment with a rush of adrenaline. Without really considering if the other could understand, Engel resorted to what he typically did when he couldn’t speak. Starting to sign the instructions of how to do the choke hold to Jason, it’d dawn on him shortly after he started what he was doing. Damn it, sign language wasn’t nearly as common as say English, Kalosian or Or—
Did Jason just gesture for him to keep going? Engel’s brows shot up at that, pausing for it to sink in that Jason understood sign language. Swiftly he resumed giving the instructions, starting with the fact Jason needed to keep his hand as flat and thin as he could. Come from behind, slide the flat hand along the target’s jaw to force their head to stay up as your arm curled around their neck. Bring up your other arm to set your elbow on the target’s left shoulder, your right hand should grab your left bicep, and use the left hand to keep their head from smashing into your’s to try and escape. Pull back first with your shoulders to cut off the air first, and then squeeze for the blood flow. Engel assured he’d yank Jason off it he potentially held on too long – they just needed to knock them out, not kill them.
Once Jason was sure he could pull it off, Engel slid slowly to the edge of their current hiding spot and peered out to inspect the situation. It seemed the woman that had been doing hostage patrol was currently distracted by something in one of the other agent’s pockets that may have accidentally been left behind. He could see said agent was also starting to wake up and jerk away in surprise at the woman being in front of him. Hello distraction, Engel did a once over of the remaining grunts, before his gaze locked down on the two he was aiming for. Motioning for Jason to stay close and pointing in the direction they were going, he started to lead the other to the back of the store room where the other grunts were loitering about. Splitting off to aim for the bigger of the two targets, Engel would wait for Jason to get in position behind the other man, and hold up his fingers for a countdown so they’d take them down at the same time. Once all of his fingers were down, Engel was going for it.
Hand sliding under the jaw of the surprised grunt, he was fast enough to wedge his arm under his jaw and with a quick jab to the back of the man’s knee, he dropped down with Engel’s effort to pull them both down and out of sight from the others on the opposite side of the room. Ignoring the struggles and just waiting for it to stop, once the grunt quit putting up a fight, Engel released and carefully lowered him to the ground. His eyes shot back to make sure they hadn’t been noticed before turning to check on Jason’s progress. Swiftly pulling the gas mask from the grunt’s belt and helping himself to the pokéballs there as well. Casually slipping those back between a few crates, it was intended for those to not be noticed missing until the last minute of potentially needing them. Engel also grabbed a handy dandy Swiss army knife from the man’s pocket, flicking through a few of the tools it had to offer before turning to Jason and jerking a thumb towards the crates where there gear was. A gesture for him to go get in position followed by Engel breaking off to start towards the closest section of the air ducts he could get to.
