[X] My Assistant

[Aureylian]

Luna’s poketch began to ring, telling her she had a new message. The Rebels had worked on the poketches, rigging them so the Rebels could talk to each other while on missions. It was from Mr. Rydel. “Go to the Pokemon Center. Now.” Luna quickly backtracked away from the group she was currently with and made her way towards the Pokemon Center. She had to be careful, she couldn’t let anyone see her.

-----------------------------------------

“Forget about your mission, Lydia. We have a new mission for you. One only you can complete. It may be a little risky, but I think you can handle it.”

Luna had been following around a girl named Caroline. They had become friends and she was part of her last mission. Luna was supposed to retrieve a pokemon of hers, in case it had any information for the Rebel cause. She wasn’t going to be able to find out now, thanks to this new mission of hers.

“You never call me Lydia.”

Lydia was the name that she was born with. The name that she had left behind. Once she ran away, she changed herself completely. A new identity. Mr. Rydel was the only one who knew who she really was. But he never called her Lydia.

“Well… we’ll have to for a while.”

Luna gave her mentor a look of curiosity and confusion as he explained her new mission. Her grandmother, the one she had run away from, was still giving money to Team Magma. The Rebels did not like this and wanted to know why. What was the money for? Why was she the one they were getting it from? It was very important for them to find out.

“This is where you come in, Lydia.”

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I don’t like this. I don’t like this one bit. Luna looked at herself in the mirror. Hello, Lydia. The girl in front of her was her past, not her future. She had left behind and never thought she’s have to go back.

Mr. Rydel had met her at the Pokemon Center a week after explaining her mission to her. He sent Luna, Lydia, enough money to buy a wig and a new set of clothes. Her wig was short and black, exactly the way she used to wear it. The wig was itchy and it took all of her willpower to stop her from throwing it on the floor and just leaving. I don’t want to go back. She had also bought a new dress. It was just a little sundress, brown with a light blue pattern. Though she was actually quite fond of the dress, the circumstance made her look at it in disgust.

There was a knock at her door. “Lydia?” It was Mr. Rydel. I wish he would stop calling me that. She had been staying in one of the rooms that the Pokemon Center offered to the Rebel operatives. Before, she was staying in a different room with Caroline, but she had to get a new one. Can’t expose the Rebels. Mr. Rydel opened the door, after she had given him confirmation, and walked in. “Are you ready?” She gave a quick glance back to the mirror where her past stared back at her. As ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.

-----------------------------------------

They had sent a car for them. It was a long drive back to Lilycove City. Luna, Lydia!, stared out the window the duration of the drive and didn’t say a word. She just watched as the trees passed by the window.

They arrived in Lilycove after a few hours and parked far from their actually destination. “Don’t worry,” said Mr. Rydel, “we already have two others undercover inside the house. They were hired by your grandmother as butlers. They’re there to help you.” She was already worrying. How could she ever face her grandmother again?

-----------------------------------------

Luna took a deep breath and walked up the stairs to her grandmother’s mansion. This is what I left. What I have to go back to. She sighed and knocked on the door. Upon hearing footsteps, she began to shake. Grandmother won’t be happy. The door opened, revealing an older woman.

“LYDIA!”

[knil1]

Ardaine ran up to stranger after stranger, pawing through purses and shopping bags. Eventually she found what she was looking for and took hold of it in her muzzle. She trotted past all of the people recovering their parcels that the Growlithe had so carelessly thrown about. She was tracked with gaze after spiteful gaze. However, there was one follower that wasn’t merely a pair of eyes. The last person she met had taken to following her, wishing to retrieve what had just been retrieved.

Ardaine laid the object on the ground in front of her trainer. The item stuck out a long red tongue and slowly opened itself.
“Thanks Ardaine, I guess that takes care of that.”

“I don’t think your mission is over yet, Aqua Scum.” Passerby’s began to murmur, the crowd thinned out, but the attention focused on the trainer with white hair and the man facing him.

“I don’t appreciate your attitude. On what grounds am I to be called Aqua? And I do believe it is you who is posing the real crime. Stealing Pokémon? I’m pretty sure that’s looked down upon around here.”

The man walked over to the boy and drew back his thick arm. As it was flung forward, the boy gracefully leaned back and, in an instant, was right behind his attacker.
“Caile, Ice shard.”

The Shellder perked up and shot ice at the large man. The Growlithe was feeling left out and threw in an extra Flame Wheel.

The man wasn’t ready to give up, but once he recovered from the attack, his enemy was gone.

~~~

Jened walked out of the Sanctuary just finished with a personal mission, now on one that required more deviant work. But his mind was thinking on something else. It seemed as though he had begun to live at the large Pokémon center. He had memorized every corner and office, but he couldn’t find the eating utensils at his own house.

Before he completely zoned out, he returned his attention to his badge. He smiled to himself. All of his effort finally resulted in an official title.
Jened Tenkuu, Veteran, Stealth Class.

Even though he was Veteran Rank, not much else seemed different. When he first received it he had fun, making Initiates or a few Agents do trivial work for him, but other than that, his work hadn’t really changed.
His new mission was to help an Initiate figure out why an old woman was donating so much money to Team Magma.
He liked the idea, but knew it wasn’t the most difficult mission the Rebellion had to offer.

He was to disguise himself as one of this woman’s butlers. There was to be another person working with him, some Rogan Chapman or something. But at least the mission would be fun. Disguises are always fun.

He prepared himself back at home and headed to Lilycove City as soon as possible.

~~~

He pulled the vest down tight and pulled the elastic strap in the back so it didn’t look too large. He wasn’t one for bowties, so he wore a long slender black tie that was tucked into his black vest. He pulled his hair back into a ponytail that went back into itself, forming a flattened 'O' shape with a tail. His shoes were shined and pants ironed.

with one last check to his figure, he opened the door to the study and approached an old woman sitting in a large chair.
“Excuse me Ms. Carson, my name is Sol. I’m the butler you recently hired. Is there anything I could get for you, ma’am?”
“I’ll trust you to get it what you think is right for me, Sol. What a peculiar name…”
“Yes ma’am.” Sol nodded and walked out of the study, keeping track of his movements, straight back, heel – toe – heel –toe….

He wasn’t going to get the refreshment, of course. He was merely a temporary worker, and they are prone to mistakes. Not to mention he had no idea what this old woman would want. His mind drifted off to prune juice...
No, he was keeping a watchful eye out for his partners and Magma agents.

Then there was a knock at the door. He hurried himself to the next room as Ms. Carson rushed to the front door.

This post has been edited by knil1: Jun 24 2011, 10:52 PM

[Kamaitachi]

Infiltration mission? Disguises? No.

She didn't really have a choice in the matter. Regan Chamuel, had been assigned to be a butler. Not a real butler mind you, but for the past two days in Lilycove, she'd found herself in one of the most awkward positions she'd ever been in. (And mind you, she'd been a prisoner of war.)

This mission required her to perform menial tasks for an old lady. Not that Regan particularly minded this sort of relationship, really. She had done it before. However, when people were informed that Regan was to be their Doctor, they tended to treat her with a little more deference and respect. For the past two days, since she began the 'mission', Regan had fought every urge in her body to keep from slapping the woman senseless.

However, when the old lady in question was referring to Regan as a butler...this was frustrating.

Regan's stern grey eyes swept over the kitchen of the rather palatial home. Lilycove wasn't such a bad place, really. She hadn't visited it in...probably ever. She couldn't remember a time of really being here. So much of her life had been focused on studying medicine that if she had actually been to the city, she was quite sure that she couldn't recall even the smallest detail about it.

She had some down-time for the moment. Ms. Carson was to be meeting a new butler. Why someone would need two butlers was beyond her, but someone had somehow convinced the crazy old bat to hire two butlers. This was the cue that the other rebellion agent had arrived.

Ever logical, Regan did question the choice to send not just one, but three rebellion agents to uncover the reasons why Ms. Carson was supplying Team Magma, but thus far, she'd seen nothing out of the ordinary.

There was a reverberating knock on the door, indicating that perhaps the third and final member of the team had arrived. Regan had been briefed that the girl was actually a relation to the broad, and that she would be the key means of gathering information.

Regan, in her few days under employ, had snooped around, but hadn't found anything of worth. At the very least, Sophie and Uri, her Togepi and Minccino, had been given ample time to run around and cause mischief. This often led to Regan cleaning up their mess under the stern and watchful eye of Ms. Carson.

As the hubbub of the relation clattered through the house, a young lad hurried into the room where Regan currently was. She hadn't been given any sort of code word with which to identify her fellow rebellion agents, so she took the most blatant route.

"Agent." She said curtly. Her voice, though soft in volume, was firm in timbre. She needed to be able to gauge his reaction based on her statement, then make her judgment call on whether or not he was in fact her teammate or not. This was a fairly sticky situation, and she wasn't sure that any of her medical expertise could help her in this espionage.

[knil1]

Sol had seemingly leaped into the kitchen to escape the gaze of whoever might be in the doorway. A man was in there, working on a meal that smelled exquisite.
“Ah, veal and rosemary. If you don’t mind.” Of course, the chef did mind, but Sol had invited himself into the spice cabinet and fixed up a cornucopia of herbs into a mortar and pestle. The chef struggled to work his way in front of Jened, but he could only push against the boys barricade of a leg. Jened sprinkled the spices on the tender meat and tossed it in the oven, covering it of course.
“I’d give you a time to take it out, but I’m sure you already know.” It’s not every day you get to prepare such a fine meat, and Sol wanted to take part in it.

Jened strolled out of the kitchen with a tray and a drink on his forearm. He looked in the doorway as he passed through. A gentle breeze flowed into the foyer, fresh from the coast of Lilycove. The air was soothing, even Aglaia, whom he released in the kitchen to make his appearance seem more formal, perked up. A girl stood in the doorway, currently being coddled by the old woman. He chuckled, as this must have been one of his partners.

He returned to the study and set the drink down on the side table. He wasn’t going to get a drink originally, but nothing was going on. Plus, he liked mixing drinks. Aglaia hopped into the woman’s chair and ruffled her fur with her regal paws.

“Agent.” Aglaia’s attention quickly focused on a woman dressed as a butler.


Sol rotated slowly. It was a bold move on the woman’s part, but Sol had done worse before.
“Yes ma’am. My name is Sol Tenkuu." He lifted his tray and revealed his Rebellion badge resting carefully on his sleeve. "I do believe you will be a peer of mine whilst we temporarily serve the lovely Miss Carson.” His teeth clenched as he uttered such complements. He scanned the room. There was what seemed to be a security camera, and he was certain they didn’t pick up sound, but just to be sure…

“I’m new here, so would you mind telling me what you know?” He gave up on smiling but forced his voice to sound genuine. So his face was serious as he spoke softly. It was like watching Kevin Clash while he’s working, but not as high pitched.

This post has been edited by knil1: Jun 24 2011, 11:16 PM

[Kamaitachi]

The irony of Sol's words were not lost on Regan. She allowed herself a ghost of a smile as she sized up the boy, her eyes carefully scanning the rebellion badge. She wasn't quite sure what to look for in it, as she probably wouldn't have been able to tell a replica from the real deal anyways, but at the very least she appeared quite sharp.

Her stern features softened as the realization hit her: She was working with someone less than half her age. Worse still, he outranked her. It hadn't been at all like that in medicine. Usually the young upstarts who rose up in the hierarchy burned out too quickly and left the industry, else they remained bitter husks of their former selves slaving away in hospital. She had done things the right way; taken her time and slowly risen through the ranks until her attending position, which she'd worked at quite dutifully for quite some time. She had passed up on several promotions, noting that she didn't need the pay increase or the extra hours.

However, here was the Rebellion in Noverus, filled with hot-shot young trainers fighting for their cause, if not simply for glory. Regan had her own mission to retrieve her lost pokemon, but she had no qualms digging thorns in the sides of Team Magma, who had caused her such grief to begin with.

"Regan Chamuel. Formerly Doctor Regan Chamuel, but without my license or a place to work, I fear the title rings a bit hollow." She looked over to the Vulpix on the chair, nodding over in her direction "Pleasure to meet you both."

Sol. What an interesting name. The Sun. He didn't look anything like the sun, but she could almost have sworn to seeing a strong inner glow within him. "The..." she sighed before uttering: "...most...esteemed...Miss Carson...has deemed to call me Rachel, since, in her infinite wisdom, Regan is a man's name." She rolled her eyes as she crossed her arms before her, adopting a lax stance. However, since Sol had spoken softly, she opted to do the same:

'I've not learned much in my short tenure here. I've been searching and searching to no avail." She gulped visibly, as if swallowing something repulsive, then spoke slowly: "I'm very new to this, so I fear I haven't any idea as to what I'm looking for. I had been hoping for you to arrive earlier. All I know is this: Carson is supplying money to Magma. I haven't seen anyone remotely resembling a Magma agent here. Since her granddaughter has just arrived, though, I feel the mission will truly begin. We'll get to the heart of the matter in no time."

[knil1]

Sol nodded when the woman uttered her hello. The Vulpix yawned and rested her head on the chair, neglecting the woman.

His face remained expressionless when the woman told him that her new name was Rachel, “as Regan is a man’s name.” but he was laughing on the inside. He held his inside tongue though, because this woman did seem much older than him. He wasn’t very good at telling ages, and older people found ways to look younger. She looked like she was in her late 30’s, early 40’s, so Sol assumed she was 50. Being a doctor, as she said she was, she would know what makes her look younger. It’s a broad generalization, but it fit.

Sol kicked himself out of his mental ramblings and noted that Regan had no idea what was really going on either.
“I feel the mission will truly begin. We'll get to the heart of the matter in no time.”

“Sounds good to me, Rachel. I’ll go look around some more, you may join me if you like, or keep an eye out for any Magma businessmen, or agents…” Sol drew a vacant expression as he realized he really had no idea what he was to look out for. “I guess we’ll start the search then.”

Sol walked out of the study back into the foyer, firstly to return the tray he had used. He noticed that Ms. Carson and her granddaughter were gone and must have retired to a different area of the house. Hopefully the agent would find a way to escape her concerned family member’s clutches.

As Jened began his tour around the house, the bell rang and Jened took it upon himself to get the door. He reached for the handle and pulled the door open to reveal a man, in what was the most formal Magma clothing he had seen, and a few others with him, dressed in casual clothing.
“Hello, I’m here to see Ms. Carson. I’ll just let myself in.”

The group shuffled in carefully, not caring to brush off their shoes before stepping on the clean floor. Sol quickly jumped to the side and sized the group up to be 2 men, two boys a little older than Jened, and one girl.
“Where is she?” The Man in Magma clothing seemed rather anxious to get the deal done.

“I’m afraid she’s visiting right now. She’ll be out when she’s finished” Sol scowled at the man, but couldn’t help but notice the girl gawking at him. “While you are waiting, could I offer you anything? A drink, snacks, ‘manners’?” The man fell into a chair and 1 or 2 others followed suit.

“Sounds good. Water will be-“ The man held his hand out to one of the boys.
“We’re fine, thanks.”

Sol now took his turn to look at the girl, and something odd went through his head. She sat in a chair, her legs were crossed and she looked rather formal compared to the rest of the group. Her torso however, slouched and her arms rested on the armrests lazily, but her hands clenched to the end as if gravity had been flipped upside down. Underneath her sun hat were Amber eyes with pupils focused on Sol. He took her for a crazy person first, although he couldn’t shake the feeling he knew her.

This post has been edited by knil1: Jul 8 2011, 05:47 PM

[Aureylian]

Lydia was rushed into the house by her aging grandmother. Although she was an older woman, she was still quite strong. The strength of her grandmother shocked Lydia, who was on the receiving end. "Come with me."

The foyer of the home still looked the same to Lydia, but she did not have to time to get a full look. Her grandmother quickly pulled her into one of the home's three studies. Each of the studies belonged to one of the three people that had been in the home at the time of its decoration: her grandfather, her grandmother, and her father. This study had belonged to her father, but it has long been empty. Her father had disappeared when she was a small child, which was the reason that she had been living with her grandmother.

While her grandmother paced around the room, thinking of what to say to her rebellious granddaughter, Lydia finally got her chance to examine the study. In the time that she had spent in the house, not once had she been allowed in that particular study. Everything of her father's had been off limits to the orphaned child, even his childhood room had been locked from the inside. In the middle of the room was a fireplace with a painting of her father hanging above the mantel. Dimitri Carson. They had the same blue-grey eyes.

"Where... have... you... been?"

Lydia snapped to attention when her grandmother spoke. There was an edge in her tone, but it wasn't all anger. There was a hint of worry, but only slightly. Lydia could see the anger in her eyes.

“I have had people searching for you!”

She was yelling, but it wasn’t a loud yell. She was trying to keep her voice as low as she could, basically yelling through her teeth. Lydia had never seen her this angry. Not even when she brought Pokemon into the house to play with when she was younger. Not even when she stayed out late. This was a new level of anger. “I’m sorry.” A hard hand came across her face with such a force that it knocked her into the nearby chair.

”You ungrateful child! I let you into this house after your parents… I cannot believe the disrespect! I raised you how you were supposed to be. With an honorable upbringing! I gave you everything and this is how you repay me!?” Lydia’s grandmother his her again. This was also something new to her, something foreign. She had only laid a hand to Lydia a few times when she was young and never like this. “You are nothing but trouble. Just like that mother of yours. She got my son into trouble, more than he could handle. No wonder they were… Where have you been? I demand to know!”

Lydia’s hand was on her face where her grandmother had hit her. She could still feel the sting, but her words hurt more. The way she talked about her mother… Lydia was almost ready to have a shouting match with her grandmother, but that wouldn’t help her cause. Making her angry, angrier than she already was, would only make it worse. She was on a mission and had to be on her best behavior.

“I’ve been—“
A knock came to the door, cutting her off mid-sentence. Lydia exhaled a sigh of relief, she hadn’t come up with a proper lie.

“We’re here to collect the payment.”

Magma. They explained that they had been waiting an awfully long time and waiting just wasn’t what Magma did. One of them gave Lydia a once over and gave her a wicked grin. “Is that the girl?”

“She isn’t ready for you. Here. Here’s your money.”

The Magmas snickered and walked out the door, taking their time. They acted like they were in control of the house. Doing whatever they pleased as they exited the house.

“What do you mean I’m not ready?”

“Lydia, go to your room.”

“But—“

“I said go to your room!”


Lydia, quietly, stood up and walked out of the room. She closed the door behind her and she could hear her grandmothers voice behind the door. She must be making a call. Lydia tried to listen in on the conversation, but the doors were too thick. Instead of going to her room, she decided to look around the house. See how much it's changed. Look for Rebel operatives...

This post has been edited by Ozzy: Jul 15 2011, 06:29 PM

[Kamaitachi]

"Sounds good to me, Rachel. I'll go look around some more, you may join me if you like, or keep an eye out for any Magma businessmen or agents. I guess we'll start the search then."

Regan summoned one of the iciest glares she could muster. Being called 'Rachel' by Miss Carson was unacceptable enough. Being called 'Rachel' by her comrade was absolutely insufferable.

Regardless of her indignities, Sol had left the room with Aglaia, leaving Regan alone for the moment. More than likely, Sol would find the same evidence that Regan had found, which is to say nothing at all.

However, perhaps it was time to attempt to make contact with the young Ms. Carson, who was, apparently, on their side. She moved about rather awkwardly in her butler get-up, unused to wearing such formal men's attire.

She moved over towards the studies, wondering if her aggraviting 'employer' had sequestered to one of the rooms. After a moment, she realized she heard a raised, stern voice with the annoying quality she'd grown to dislike. Hanging around the corner, she tried to listen in, hearing the elderly woman's angry voice, punctuated by the telltale sound of a hand meeting a face.

However, there came a knocking at the door, causing Regan to peek around the corner. Voila. Magma. They had arrived too.

Conveniently, with the arrival of her fellow operatives, the Magma agents had also decided to appear, which meant that the mission could begin in earnest.

She heard someone exit and peeked around the corner once more to see the girl leaving the room, moving past the Magma folks and into the main estate. Regan quickly made her way over, immediately noting the red, stinging spots on the girls face where she'd been slapped.

"Luna." she said quietly as she approached, wrapping her arms around the girl in a surprisingly motherly hug. She couldn't help it, after all, she was over twice the age of the girl, who had just been physically and verbally abused upon return to her childhood home. "My condolences, Luna."

[knil1]

Sol watched as the man suddenly stood upright. “I don’t have to be kept waiting.” He strolled over to the door and knocked, not waiting for a response allowing him to walk inside. Sol took his attention away from the girl still sitting awkwardly and crept closer to the magma group.
“Is that the girl?”
The old Ms. Carson spoke up, “She isn’t ready for you. Here. Here’s your money.”

The rebel took note that the comment was rather unordinary, but the meaning wasn’t there. Or at least, Sol ignored it.

“Is your name… Jened?”
Sol reached behind him and held the person’s mouth shut. He carried them into an empty room and made sure they couldn’t get away.

Their hair was a deep black color, and a vivid red was showing just at the roots. Their amber eyes were wide with shock.
“Who are you?” He released the awkward girl slowly.
She took a deep breath and clamed herself down, straightening out her dress and calming her hair.

“My name currently is Natasha. I’m on an undercover mission with a certain group. I’m sorry to have surprised you, but I think I know you.” She was quite odd. Natasha walked up to him and began to tug at his hair. “But this isn’t familiar. Why is your hair so stupid?” She stared at his face for a moment until she giggled happily and jumped on him in a firm hug.
“I’m glad I found you Jenny!”

Muffled noises emerged from Natasha’s stomach, as she had now climbed on Sol’s head. “Who are you?! Get off of me!”

“Well, I’m Marina. I knew you, like, forever ago. Back in Noverus. But I’ve lost my memory and I was sent back. So I met you! This is exciting. I work around the Sanctuary sometimes and noticed your name somewhere. We can go on missions and do a bunch of fun stuff!”

Jened hastily pried her off of his head and set her down. “Marina? So, your parents were with Aqua right?”

“Yeah, but I work for the Rebellion now.” She was met, once again with Sol’s hand to her mouth. But she was definitely his old friend.

“Quiet. You’re undercover. We’ll discuss this later. In the meantime, just do what you’re here to do.”

“Yes sir.” She giggled some more as she skipped out of the room and returned to the group of Magma Agents.
Sol didn’t know what to make of this. Aglaia had, fortunately, avoided the conversation all together as she was still watching the group of Magmas.
Marina's presence wouldn’t as much make a kink in the mission plans as it would in Sol’s actions, now that an old friend had just emerged from nowhere.

This post has been edited by knil1: Jul 18 2011, 03:55 PM

[Aureylian]

Lydia got tired of trying to listen through the doors. She had never been able to hear anything on the other side, even as a child, and that wasn't going to change. "Darn it," she muttered under her breath.

Before she really knew what was going on, someone, someone who had called her Luna, had hugged her. "Thank you, but I'm fine. It doesn't bother me. Although, around here, it may be best to call me Lydia." Lydia noted that she was one of the Rebel operatives and that the woman was much older than she was. "And what is your name?"

After exchanging names, the two made their search around the house, but first she decided that it would be good to do a sweep of her room. "We'll search the rest of the house afterwards, but it would be good to start there." Lydia led the woman up the stairs to the second floor of the house. Lydia's room was the very last at the end of the hall, a room that had been refurbished for the young girl when she was left with her grandmother.

She grabbed the handle of the door and turned it, revealing a room that had much been changed. Previously, when she was a child, the room was filled with pastel colors and toys were scattered all over the floor. Now, however, it was all earth tones and was very tidy and neat. "She must have made it a guest room." There was no evidence that a child had ever lived there.

Lydia searched all over the room, looking for any kind of camera or listening device. Finding none, she plopped her belongings down on the bed and began pulling things out of her bag. "It's safe to talk here."

[Kamaitachi]

Regan followed the girl "Lydia" up to her old room. The look on her face indicated that time and the old woman had worked together to change the room, leaving nary a trace of Luna's previous life here.

Then Luna stated: "She must have made it a guest room"

Regan could only nod quietly in assent, not exactly sure how to respond, or even help out this girl.

"It's safe to talk here."

While the former Doctor wasn't quite so sure about it, she'd already been ballsy enough in rooms where it hadn't been quite safe. As far as she knew, the room wasn't bugged either, so she allowed herself a drop in her guard.

"Another young man by the name of 'Sol' is here. Neither of us have found any evidence, aside from the arrival of Magma operatives. Precisely what else are we looking for?"

[knil1]

Sol walked out of the room he had taken Marina into, his face aimed downwards and eyebrows furrowed. He couldn’t focus, his mind kept wandering back to memories of his and Marina’s short time together. He even began thinking about why this was so bothersome. People can meet again under strange circumstances, right? It’s not that odd.

And what did she mean about losing her memory? Was Sol really that important to her that she still remembered him? The thought that she –
“Sol!” Ms. Carson’s aged voice shot through the house. One of the magma people was standing outside of the room.
“Sounds like she’s in need of your assistance kid.” He snickered to himself, taunting Sol even further.

“Yes ma’am?”
“Well, it seems as though my guests desire a drink.”
“You’ll retrieve a –“
“He’ll have a water.” Ms. Carson’s abrupt interruption of the Magma leader wasn’t just entertaining, but made Sol realize how controlling she is.
“I’ll get it right away, ma’am.” He turned 180, glancing at Marina sitting quietly in the corner. It was obvious she was trying not to smile at Sol. Her chin was quivering and her lips were pursed airtight.

“Sol! What on earth are you thinking?!” Ms. Carson stood up with surprising vigor. Aglaia, still freed, looked back at the old woman nonchalantly. “This is no place for a such a wretched creature! I demand you to remove it from my home! And your hair! Much to long for a boy your age. Cut it at once! “ The woman’s tone was rather frightening, although Sol was just hoping all of the yelling wouldn’t give her a heart attack.

Aglaia was now crouched and growling at Ms. Carson. Jened calmly took out her Pokéball and returned the Vulpix.
“I’ll be back with your drinks shortly ma’am.”
Sol returned to the kitchen. The veal roasting in the oven smelled heavenly, but that wasn’t enough to assuage Sol’s newfound hatred for his current employer.

[Kamaitachi]

Lydia/Luna didn't much feel like talking anymore. Perhaps the girl was too wrapped up in her nostalgia to focus on the mission at hand. It seemed unfair of the Rebels to utilize her old connections in order to run their missions, but Regan knew full well that all was fair in war.

She didn't want to believe that, honestly. Regan wasn't a battle hardened soldier. No. She was a doctor, and now a victim. To some extent, admittance of the "All's Fair" policy would be the first step in discarding her own humanity, which was potentially one of the only things she had left.

The older woman quietly left Luna in her room, stepping back into the hallway. In dire need of some form of companionship, she drew a pokeball and popped it open, summoning Sophie, her Togepi. The little baby egg pokemon materialized in her arms, blinking inquisitively up at her friend.

"I'd enjoy your company for a bit, my dear." Regan smiled sadly, hugging the creature to her. Sophie nuzzled her spiky little head into Regan's bosom, nestling in comfortably.

With her dear, longtime friend in her arms, Regan stepped down the stairs. Odd that Sophie, as a Togepi, hadn't evolved, even after all these years. Regan had always viewed evolution as a sign of age, but then again, she'd always liked Sophie just as she was. There was no need to go and evolve into something new when there was absolutely no need for it.

"Oh, hello Sol." Regan nodded, still looking as stern as ever, despite the Togepi in her arms. "Was that Queen Carson screaming at you?" She moved to the oven, sniffing at the veal appreciatively. "She's got quite the frightening voice, hasn't she?"

Reaching down, she popped the oven slightly open to get a better smell. Both she and Sophie in her arms took a deep inhale, the latter opting to wriggle excitedly in her trainer's arms at the sensation. "As for our job, I think serving dinner would be reasonable, no?" Regan turned her gaze to Sol, trying to somehow communicate with her eyes that she was speaking apochryphally. "We should do our best to be vigilant. Our dinner guests have wisdoms that they may wish to impart upon us."

[knil1]

Sol leaned up against the counter in the kitchen. The chef seemed to have developed distaste for the young boy, which was concluded upon him shoving Sol aside to reach a few utensils. But now, he was merely cleaning. With supper nearing, all that was left to do was preparing the meal and serve it.

There was a surplus amount of food. Sol wondered if Ms. Carson had always planned for guests, or if she was really that wasteful. But the people outside didn’t seem to be the ones to turn down a free meal. They seemed like those kinds of thugs.

He took an apron off of a nearby rack, they were hung carelessly, but they were clean. He lifted one and felt its delicate cotton slide across his long fingers, the scent of fresh linen. It was decadent, much better quality than any garment Sol had… and yet, it was an apron.
“I might just find something good about working for this old woman, eh Aglaia?” He looked at the floor behind him and remembered the woman having an aneurism over his Pokémon. “Oh, that’s right,” he grumbled as he cinched up the aprons string. The apron was rather large on him, so it overlapped in the back, but it was a good length.

Sol cursed at the obesity epidemic and fetched some glasses for water.

As he tried to figure out the number of people that had requested a drink, Rachel walked into the kitchen. Or Regan…
“Oh, hello Sol. Was that Queen Carson screaming at you? She's got quite the frightening voice, hasn't she?"

“Haha, yes I would say so,” He said nonchalantly and under his breath. He was friendlier with people, but conversation started slowly. He strolled over to the sink with five glasses carefully organized in his hands, avoiding eye contact with Regan. Yeah, that’s her name.

"As for our job, I think serving dinner would be reasonable, no?" Sol could tell she checked the veal by the smell wafting past his nose. "We should do our best to be vigilant. Our dinner guests have wisdoms that they may wish to impart upon us."


“Sounds good.” He looked up at Regan and winked. He noticed the Togepi held against her chest.

“As cute as it is, you may want to keep your Togepi a distance from ‘the boss’. She seems to have an unprovoked hatred for Pokémon.” Jened turned the faucet on and began rinsing a glass to start filling it up.

“I do hope that isn’t for Ms. Carson, boy.” The chef was behind Sol instantly.

“I assumed your water is filtered.” Jened glared at the porkish man. Stereotypical chef who “tries” his cooking.

“It is, but the madam drinks Maui bottled water.” He held up a bottle without a label besides a Suicune landing on a puddle. Sol snatched the bottle and twisted the cap. He tilted the glass and poured the water expertly.

“Well, I’m doing my job well. How about you?” He looked over at the oven. The chef nearly fell over as he leaped to the oven.

Sol laughed as he arranged the glasses on a tray and left the kitchen. “Sounds good Regan. I’ll be back in a sec and we’ll get our work done.”

[Kamaitachi]

Regan looked down at Sophie in her arms, a hint of sadness in her eyes as she did so. She seemed utterly reluctant to do so, but understood the importance of it. For the moment, she had desperately needed the companionship in the physical. Yet, it wasn't so bad. Sophie and Uri were there, just tucked neatly away in their homes. Sol had a point; Ms. Carson really did not enjoy pokemon, despite being a major funder of a faction that employed Pokemon as tools...

Maybe that was it? Regan wondered if Ms. Carson funded Magma due to their use of Pokemon. They were not pets, or friends, as far as she knew, but weapons. If that was the case, it made the aged old bat even more disgusting than before.

* * *

Once Sol returned from delivering the water (without event, or so Regan hoped), she set about picking up the plates and setting them down in front of the guests at the dinner table. Since there were liberties taken, Regan noted that the first course was a wonderful Grilled Endive Frisé, with an orange champagne vinagrette, complete with dried cranberries and some bleu cheese. Regan did so enjoy that dressing, and made sure to steal just a little sup, when no one was looking.

The chatter around the starter salads seemed rather mundane. Weather in Lilycove. Nothing spectacular.

Regan and Sol adroitly served up the soup course, a Roasted Carrot and Cilantro Soup, swirled with a healthy dose of Crème Fraiche.

Once again, the dinner talk was trivial at best. Regan found herself grinding her teeth in frustration. The Magma Higher-Ups and Ms. Carson seemed to want nothing more than to talk about High Society.

The Main course appeared, the coveted Veal Osso Bucco. Bone in Veal Shin, braised with tomatoes, a saffron risotto and gremolata. While the Magma's dove in heartily, Ms. Carson merely picked at her meal, clearly having enjoyed the appetizers more.

The meat of the dinner seemed to offer the same flavourless conversation as before. Music performances as the Grand Hall, the absolute disdain for Pokemon Contests and their gaudiness, etc. At times, Regan found herself clenching her fists, shooting significant, but irritated glances as Sol, to see if he was as fed up as she was.

The desserts came last, with a gentle and fluffy tiramisu, with some espresso. The tiramisu was hardly touched, but for a few bites from the stuffed participants in the meal. Regan wrinkled her nose in disapproval as most of the lovely dessert was simply thrown away. While her tastes were a bit more simple than the lavish affair that had been spread, Regan Chamuel realized that her time for enjoying such fineries were long past. She'd simply have to eat some of the leftovers in the kitchen later. Not being a heavy eater, she was sure no one would notice.

Her stomach was grumbling a bit though.

"So, on to the funding. As you saw from your site visit, that the research for the Pokequipment is coming along nicely. Most of our developments have been in first form or non-evolutionary pokemon. However, we're having some difficulty in the secondary and tertiary tier evolutions. Bastiodon for defensive Phalanxes, using Iron Defense, are proving difficult, especially due to their rarity. Crobat for Supersonic, equipment jamming, also difficult. That's where we need the next step in your generous donation."

A horrific shattering noise was heard. All eyes snapped to Regan, where the fairly frail woman had shattered a tea-cup in her gloved hands.

"Rachel. That's coming out of your paycheck. Clean it up immediately." Ms. Carson's voice rang imperiously through the dining room.

Regan however, had heard enough. Nodding, she moved quickly to clean it up, but then moved through the kitchen, disappearing into the restroom.

[knil1]

Sol carried out the tray carefully, his hips swaying behind chairs and narrow gaps, but the tray only wavered when he bent down to set a glass on the table.

“When will supper be ready, Sol?”

“I believe it will be out in just a moment, ma’am. Rachel and I will be out shortly.”

The leader of the Magma Group blurted out, much to Ms. Carson’s surprise. “Well hurry it up, boy. We have business to get down to.”

Sol glared at him, and his stare was challenged. Just as the tray stayed at one elevation flowingly, Sol’s eyes never left the eyes of the man. Just as he left he heard Ms. Carson speak up, “Now Jorg, be polite. I don’t care if he’s just a waiter, but I expect manners.”
‘Jorg? Really?’


And Sol was correct. As he walked into the kitchen, food was prepared and Regan was beginning to take it out.

“They seem to be getting a bit rowdy, I don’t know if this group would appreciate a 3 course meal. Might as well skip to the dinner and be done.” He chuckled lightly and looked over to Regan, stacking plates neatly. She smiled, but seemed a little troubled and thinking of something else. Sol couldn’t see her Togepi, she must have returned it.


He walked out with the Frisé, following closely behind his partner. He took the near side as Regan had already traversed to the other. He noticed a few people looking at the meal suspiciously. Eventually they began poking at it with their fingers.

Sol leaned over and spoke to them “Think of it as a salad. Use your forks, gentlemen.”

“We know what to do. Why do you think we have actual jobs?” The group laughed as Ms. Carson ate carefully.

Marina noticed a spark in Sol’s eyes that told her he was going to use the tray to knock some people out.

‘I’ll give you a real job. Deal with cultural imbeciles for a few hours and tell me who can do an actual job.’
He stomped back to the kitchen, elegantly and awkwardly of course, to prepare the next part of the meal.


As he laid the next courses down, not much was happening. It was mindless chatter and quick glances to Marina who sent glances his way as well. That and when he dripped a little sauce on the boy who made the comment earlier, but he was too dense to figure out what it was and shrugged it off. Regan looked over to Sol periodically, a fire in her eyes screaming that she was going to end this group of pompous brats. He merely used his cold, steely eyes to tell her to just do what the broad wanted and get the mission over with.

It was rather uneventful, until of course Regan shattered the espresso cup. The conversation began to grow serious as everyone (except the workers, of course) had had their meals. The men reclined slavishly and even the girls slumped over the table. Marina sat playing with the silver utensils, making faces in her food, distant from the rest of the world. And Ms. Carson patted her mouth, back more straight then the fine wood table she was eating on.

It all changed when the cup shattered in Regan’s hands.


Ms. Carson evolved into a Primeape, eloquently shouting fierce commands at Regan, who stood awkwardly, hunched over the dripping plate and shards of porcelain. The Magma group laughed as Regan took her abuse well and went to clean it up. She left, Sol assumed to go get cleaning agents to wipe up the mess, but didn’t return.

“Dear lord, that woman is hopeless. Sol, come and clean up this mess before it sets. And find Regan. I want her back to work; our dishes won’t pick up themselves.”

Jorg interjected just as the old woman was about to say something. “Ms. Carson, as funny as this whole scenario is, we must get back to business.”

Sol listened to the Magma people speak about technological advancements and something about Pokémon. He wasn’t sure what they meant, but to him it sounded like Technical Machines. But he had to go ask Regan to come back, as it was ordered by the Queen herself.


“Hey, that girl’s been back there for a while now. Go check on her.” Sol tossed the broken dish aside and began rinsing off his hands as the chef walked over to him. “Ms. Carson is a tough person to serve. She’s ungrateful and demanding. So the best thing to do is to just do it and not let it faze you.”

Sol was confused with the man’s change in heart. “Strange. I thought you were rather in love with the broad.”

“Don’t you call her a broad! She’s a bad woman, for sure, but she pays my bills. I won’t accept any insults to that wonderful woman on my watch.”

Sol stood back, surprised. He walked over to the bathroom Regan locked herself in and wondered what was wrong with the chef mentally.


He prepared himself for what awkwardness was to come. Regan seemed a little emotional and that wasn’t in his nature to deal with. To him, emotions were just obstacles in getting work done. Rather unlike his Gemini zodiac, he wasn’t good in conversation, not to mention, he wasn’t even sure if Regan was sad or angry or what. So he took a leap of faith.

“Err. Hey Regan. It’s Sol… I just came by to see if you were alright… Um… Yeah, so Ms. Carson is a terrible person… but.. Uh…. Just don’t let her get to you…… besides, her crow’s-feet are much wrinklier than yours… not that you have crow’s-feet, but… well. I guess you do. I have crow’s-feet…. They're just smaller…… But I’m here if you need some help.
Just let me know if you want to take a break. I don’t mind serving all of them… So… yeah. Alright.”


He walked back to the kitchen, pinching himself for being so awkward.
‘Crow’s-feet? Why would you bring that up? That doesn’t make anyone happy.’

This post has been edited by knil1: Oct 29 2011, 09:47 PM

[Kamaitachi]

The door creaked open, revealing Regan's stern face, her eyes narrowed into one of the most ominous glares she could possibly muster.

"If you do not learn proper conversation points with women, you'll find yourself an eternal bachelor." Her voice floated towards Sol, frosty, aloof and almost terrifying in its calmness. Regan was not one to channel her anger into fire. After her many years of experience, she knew that it was ice that left people shaken.

She followed him back into the kitchen. The chef stared at her awkwardly as she re-entered. Folding her thin arms neatly, she simply glared at him.

As they moved back into the dining room, Regan set about clearing the table of the remaining dishes. The Magma guests leered at her a bit, though Ms. Carson kept up her frosty airs while Regan moved about. Before long, Sol and Regan had finished their tasks for the dinner, and the party moved into the lounge.

For a moment, Regan had Sol alone, and she leaned in, speaking softly.

"I've heard of pokequipment. In short, it has to do with the altering of a Pokemon's brain, so that it can only use one technique, thus turning it into something utilitarian." Regan clenched her fists. "Ms. Carson clearly hates Pokemon, so what better reason does she need to fund research that's deliberately cruel to them?"

She wasn't quite sure if the information was spot on or not. She knew that Pokequipment relegated a pokemon to a single move, but she didn't know the process of it. After all, she had been a doctor for humans, not pokemon. Even still, there was the burning notion that her other four pokemon were currently being experimented on for the sake of making living tools for such an evil organization. Since this was still her first mission though, she was still unsure as to how to proceed.

"Sol, you're the senior operative here. How do we proceed?"

[knil1]

It had happened. Sol was now the one giving orders.
Of course, Sol has given a great number of orders. But it was all rather trivial work. And even when he did come up with a plan, it was random and just popped into his head. He took orders and executed them with the upmost tidiness and stealth, which made him a great grunt. When it came to being the leader… Well…

This wasn’t one of the times where a plan of action had popped into his head.

“Well, I guess this is when we…” Sol remembered the evil glare she had given Sol earlier. Sol wasn’t one to challenge when it came to eerie glares, as he would probably win, but Regan had a definite chill to hers, making Sol a little more careful about knowing what he was talking about.
“Well,” Sol’s voice grew near inaudible, “A girl from the base is here. She’s undercover and sitting with the leader and Ms. Carson.” Sol picked up the last napkin off the dining table.

“I guess the most we can do is to just lay low and wait until we can get more information. Our partner will do the best, as long as she can get away from our guests by the end.” This was basically a dud of a mission. Fun and simple, but rather boring. Covers were to remain intact the entire time, and when the job was over, you accept payment to avoid suspicion and return to the Sanctuary with what info you gathered to turn it in to the agents who deal with things like that.

“Right now or job is to serve the madam and give her no reason to fire us.” He spoke louder, feeling suspicion flowing through the Magma’s open ears.
“In the meantime, I’ll fetch an aperitif and our service will continue as planned." His voice got quieter once more. "I’ll also let my Pokémon out in the kitchen. The chef seems to be on our side… well, he kinda does.” Sol could no longer ignore the Pokéball holding his Growlithe wobble in his pocket anxiously.

Sol quickly went to the kitchen and soon returned with two trays balanced on his long fingers. He handed one to his partner and waltzed into the lounge.

This post has been edited by knil1: Nov 7 2011, 08:51 PM

[Kamaitachi]

Regan nodded, not sure about how she felt about taking orders from someone half her age. On the one hand, she did ask him. On the other hand, it seemed like a really crappy plan. He had a point though; no point in risking themselves unnecessarily with high ranking and most likely powerful Magma agents all over the place. Regan's two pokemon, Sophie and Uri, were severely under-levelled compared to Sol's, so at best he'd be doing most of the fighting anyways.

Sol went off to get an aperitif, which Regan immediately tutted at him severely.

"Aperitifs are before the meal. Digestifs, afterwards." She set the trays with brandy, grappa and limoncello liquers, then poured a few glasses of fortified wine, making sure to provide a good selection of port, sherry, madeira and vermouth. Honestly, kids these days had no appreciation for the fine art of after dinner drinks.

Sol swept up both trays, then handed one to her, alotting her the tray of fortified wines. She wrinkled her nose at the heavy odour of the Port, reminding herself that it was precisely the reason she preferred white wine.

"Ah, Rachel. Welcome back." Perhaps it was merely imagination, but Reagan swore that she could both see and hear venom dripping from Ms. Carson's yellowed teeth. "I hope that little episode has been dealt with?"

Don't end your sentences in prepositions, you hag, Regan inwardly rolled her eyes. "My stomach hurt, and I had to check and see if it was an inflammation in my gastrointestinal tract. That often results in diarrhea and vomiting, but this was not the case. I'm pleased to report that I do not, in fact, have Gastroenteritis."

Perhaps it was because she just wasn't sure how to talk to the old bag, but she reverted to Doctor-speak, simply because that was the easiest way to deal with a vast majority of people. She was not a convincing liar, but at least while tossing about medical terms in the correct places, she could dazzle them with some big words.

"Ah. I see." Ms. Carson's dry reply indicated to Regan that the lie had been taken, and that she could continue serving her disgusting smelling fortified wines.