Route 29: ｍｏｄｓ (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
these_balls) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
route_292012-05-17 01:02 pm
these_balls) wrote in route_292012-05-17 01:02 pm
Entry tags:
[Spring Cleaning: Epilogue]
John isn't sure what to do with this. He clearly isn't being paid enough--deserves a promotion, or at least a vacation on a nice Cianwood beach--to handle this sort of thing.
"Trub," says the pokemon before him, a half-chewed can of pop gurgling out of its mouth. Beside it, a grimer makes grabby, grubby movements to eat the garbage pile, and John has to restrain himself from vomiting a little in his mouth.
He scratches his Koffing right beneath the round chin, breathing a little easier when its vents exhale a gust of clean air in his face.
"Are you sure about this, Jen?" His question is directed at the Jenny, who's wearing the same expression he is, her mouth in an uneasy line. The title should be 'officer', but he's known her since she was a slip of a girl--even now, her uniform neatly tucked over the evidence of her womanhood, she barely comes up to his gray stubble.
"Sorry," she sounds genuinely apologetic. "Orders are what they are. You can call us if they cause any trouble, though, we'll clear them out."
John is pretty certain they won't cause trouble: most of them are quite docile, bordering on stupid. He's heard that Grimer and Trubbish aren't the most natural of pokemon, but he's pretty sure the specifics of these little guys makes them even dumber than most. Koffy seems pretty amiable to their presence, at least.
"You know," he adds, a bit bitter, "stuff like this didn't happen before those people started showing up." He'll never get that dent out of his truck, and the scent of chloroform haunts his dreams.
The Jenny actually reaches forward at that. "Come on, John. You can't paint all of them with such a wide brush. I'm sure some of them are all right."
Yeah, some. They look at each other, before he shakes her off, readjusting his coveralls. There's no use being upset about this. Grimer and Trubbish (he'll think of nicknames later) are harmless, even a bit cute in their...own way. Besides, he's gonna need all the help he can get.
----
Proton's palms dig into the edge of Archer's desk. His expression is vaguely manic, fueled by coffee and the promise of power just ahead. Archer, at least, can appreciate it, his own brows perked with interest.
But first things first: "What did the boss have to say?"
"He's pleased. Very pleased. Our people are good."
Proton smirks a little. "Mine in particular."
Archer doesn't protest, but continues. "I'll be sending out promotions later. I want to hear what you have for me, first."
Proton hands his tablet over to Archer, who uses one carefully-manicured finger to skim the pages. Words fly by, and his expression slowly breaks down as he reads.
"So you did get the samples..."
He's almost breathless, his gaze wandering back to Proton's, lost in the sheer size of what this could mean.
"We found some of Entei's fur on a downed tree on Route 8. No idea why it knocked it down, but all the better for us, right? Traces of Raikou's nails were in the Ilex forest."
Archer is, quite frankly, impressed. "Celadon team?"
"My best," Proton confirms, taking back his tablet. "I have your go-ahead?"
He wonders if Proton would heed it if he didn't give it, but has strong doubts. Besides, this project could change...a lot. Normally, he's supposed to OK these things with the boss, but he's confident in this; especially given their success. All their looted goods are awaiting official check, but the estimate Petrel gave him was about two million. He savors that number for a moment--and that's not even counting this, which is a bigger success than even he had anticipated.
"Do it. You have permission."
Proton smiles again, wolfish. The fingers that clutch the tablet are all but trembling with excitement. Archer figures it'd be best to get him out of his office before he starts vibrating. But he can't help--
"What are your thoughts? On the...foreign recruits."
Proton eyes him for a second, wondering, his body already turning to leave.
"This organization needed a breath of fresh air. They're creative, I'll give them that much."
Archer nods, and Proton takes that as permission to leave. The door clicks neatly shut behind him, sealing Archer away in the silence. Beside his chair, Chiron continues to sit, straight-backed, his head coming just tall enough to be pulled close to Archer's lap. He pets his houndoom's head, methodical, but not gentle. Ariana once mocked his interest, but he finds himself perfectly legitimate in his curiosity. They are different, in ways almost intangible, and difficult to explain. Creative? A breath of fresh air? Perhaps.
In any case, he has messages to send out.
----
OOC: ROCKET PROMOTIONS
Thank you for participating, everyone!
The ranks are like so:
Grunt ('Agent') > Private > Beta > Alpha > Admin ('Executive') > Boss
For lab work:
Grunt ('Technician' in the lab, 'Agent' on the field) > Researcher > Division Head > Lab Head (for a whole base) > Admin > Boss
Frank Archer, thanks to his strong backing, will hop up to Beta, answering to Archer and Ariana.
Kimblee made Private thanks to his strong contributions and superior asskissing ability. SORRY, DAL.
Malik is now a manager at the Goldenrod Game Corner, under Petrel.
Gorthan is Head of the Biotics Division at the Goldenrod Base Science Dept, answering to Proton.
Cobra...isn't getting demoted? That's good, right?
Also, the missions post has been updated! Go check it out! There's a little notice about full-time job missions, so please take note.
If you have any more questions, concerns, comments, let us know here! What did you think of the plot?
"Trub," says the pokemon before him, a half-chewed can of pop gurgling out of its mouth. Beside it, a grimer makes grabby, grubby movements to eat the garbage pile, and John has to restrain himself from vomiting a little in his mouth.
He scratches his Koffing right beneath the round chin, breathing a little easier when its vents exhale a gust of clean air in his face.
"Are you sure about this, Jen?" His question is directed at the Jenny, who's wearing the same expression he is, her mouth in an uneasy line. The title should be 'officer', but he's known her since she was a slip of a girl--even now, her uniform neatly tucked over the evidence of her womanhood, she barely comes up to his gray stubble.
"Sorry," she sounds genuinely apologetic. "Orders are what they are. You can call us if they cause any trouble, though, we'll clear them out."
John is pretty certain they won't cause trouble: most of them are quite docile, bordering on stupid. He's heard that Grimer and Trubbish aren't the most natural of pokemon, but he's pretty sure the specifics of these little guys makes them even dumber than most. Koffy seems pretty amiable to their presence, at least.
"You know," he adds, a bit bitter, "stuff like this didn't happen before those people started showing up." He'll never get that dent out of his truck, and the scent of chloroform haunts his dreams.
The Jenny actually reaches forward at that. "Come on, John. You can't paint all of them with such a wide brush. I'm sure some of them are all right."
Yeah, some. They look at each other, before he shakes her off, readjusting his coveralls. There's no use being upset about this. Grimer and Trubbish (he'll think of nicknames later) are harmless, even a bit cute in their...own way. Besides, he's gonna need all the help he can get.
Proton's palms dig into the edge of Archer's desk. His expression is vaguely manic, fueled by coffee and the promise of power just ahead. Archer, at least, can appreciate it, his own brows perked with interest.
But first things first: "What did the boss have to say?"
"He's pleased. Very pleased. Our people are good."
Proton smirks a little. "Mine in particular."
Archer doesn't protest, but continues. "I'll be sending out promotions later. I want to hear what you have for me, first."
Proton hands his tablet over to Archer, who uses one carefully-manicured finger to skim the pages. Words fly by, and his expression slowly breaks down as he reads.
"So you did get the samples..."
He's almost breathless, his gaze wandering back to Proton's, lost in the sheer size of what this could mean.
"We found some of Entei's fur on a downed tree on Route 8. No idea why it knocked it down, but all the better for us, right? Traces of Raikou's nails were in the Ilex forest."
Archer is, quite frankly, impressed. "Celadon team?"
"My best," Proton confirms, taking back his tablet. "I have your go-ahead?"
He wonders if Proton would heed it if he didn't give it, but has strong doubts. Besides, this project could change...a lot. Normally, he's supposed to OK these things with the boss, but he's confident in this; especially given their success. All their looted goods are awaiting official check, but the estimate Petrel gave him was about two million. He savors that number for a moment--and that's not even counting this, which is a bigger success than even he had anticipated.
"Do it. You have permission."
Proton smiles again, wolfish. The fingers that clutch the tablet are all but trembling with excitement. Archer figures it'd be best to get him out of his office before he starts vibrating. But he can't help--
"What are your thoughts? On the...foreign recruits."
Proton eyes him for a second, wondering, his body already turning to leave.
"This organization needed a breath of fresh air. They're creative, I'll give them that much."
Archer nods, and Proton takes that as permission to leave. The door clicks neatly shut behind him, sealing Archer away in the silence. Beside his chair, Chiron continues to sit, straight-backed, his head coming just tall enough to be pulled close to Archer's lap. He pets his houndoom's head, methodical, but not gentle. Ariana once mocked his interest, but he finds himself perfectly legitimate in his curiosity. They are different, in ways almost intangible, and difficult to explain. Creative? A breath of fresh air? Perhaps.
In any case, he has messages to send out.
OOC: ROCKET PROMOTIONS
Thank you for participating, everyone!
The ranks are like so:
Grunt ('Agent') > Private > Beta > Alpha > Admin ('Executive') > Boss
For lab work:
Grunt ('Technician' in the lab, 'Agent' on the field) > Researcher > Division Head > Lab Head (for a whole base) > Admin > Boss
Frank Archer, thanks to his strong backing, will hop up to Beta, answering to Archer and Ariana.
Kimblee made Private thanks to his strong contributions and superior asskissing ability. SORRY, DAL.
Malik is now a manager at the Goldenrod Game Corner, under Petrel.
Gorthan is Head of the Biotics Division at the Goldenrod Base Science Dept, answering to Proton.
Cobra...isn't getting demoted? That's good, right?
Also, the missions post has been updated! Go check it out! There's a little notice about full-time job missions, so please take note.
If you have any more questions, concerns, comments, let us know here! What did you think of the plot?
no subject
especially if Kariya here actually manages to do something other than fall into garbage and cry HELL YEAH SAVING VIOLET CITY LIKE A....BOSS....? no
no subject
Gambling is fun, kids.Interesting foreshadowing, too...on multiple fronts. >3
no subject
ALSO HELL YEAH PROMOTIONno subject
Someone please tell Cobra someone outranks him now when he wakes up.no subject
...no really why are we apologizing to me over here - this is perfect and pretty much exactly what they wanted to happen and I am just kind of shrieking and flailing like a stupid thing now
But really, I totally enjoyed the plot, and I really hope to participate in any others we have in the future; keep up the good work, you guys are definitely improving on the Rocket front!