PokeStrong! The Sinister Company!

[turbokid64]

"GIVE UP YOU BRAT!" shouted one of the strange men chasing the young Spencer.
"Ah give it up we have enough of the Pokemon from the ranches around here for our tests." said another one of the men. "Besides, this kid knows more about these forests then we do. We can't catch him. Especially at night."
"Grrrrrrrrr. I guess you're right." said the first man, obviously enraged by this truth. "FINE KID YOU LIVE TODAY, BUT NEXT TIME I SEE YOU..." Spencer then heard the man scrape his nails against the tree. He got the point. Both men walked off laughing.

These old memories flooded Spencer's head as he looked at sign of "PokeStrong," a company that proclaims to be ensuring our saftey with genetically enhanced pokemon, but Spencer knew the truth. Ever since they had destroyed his hometown 12 years ago in order to capture Pokemon and try out their new kinds of brainwashed, gentically enhanced freaks they somehow managed to call Pokemon. Spencer had to leave his village and build his own team to take down this evil corporation. He had gathered six strong-willed, eager Pokemon, (including his own lifelong friend, Fierce the Sandslash) but he was still unsure. He wanted to put together a team of trainers. Brave, willing, courageous tainers. He had put up flyers, but he wasn't too sure they would be efficient since everyone was convinced that PokeStrong was trying to help humanity.
"Hoo boy....when am I gonna get a break? I'm out of money, no job, and there's an evil company beant on economic and global domination..." moaned Spencer.
Fierce looked at him with sadness because Fierce was one of the targetted Pokemon in the attack on Spencer's village. He was the only one who escaped.
"Well Fierce, we put up those flyers and even though I'm sure no one is interested in rebellian, we had better get to that meeting point in the gymnassium." Spencer said. as he put on his coat and walking outside with Fierce by his side.

(OOC: Hey! Heh well this is my first rp so I hope I can get some more people in here fast. I would like to have only four other people in this rp. PM me if you're interested, ok? we have no spots open, but i might open a spot up if mr. cacti doesn't post.)

 

[Tailon]

(OOC: what city are we in? say it in an OOC next time or offhandedly mention it in the story)

Dean looked down at the flier in his hand, then up at the building in front of him. "This is the meeting place then huh Sparks?"Dean asked, getting the usual "Pi!" from his Pichu, Sparky,(or Sparks as Dean often called him). They walked inside, seeing only a young man, about his own age, and a Sandslash. Looking around some more, Dean saw they were in a gym of some sort.
As he looked around, Dean noticed Pichu becoming excited. "What you wanna play with dusty? Fine." Dean tossed a premier ball, and his Flareon, Dusty, appeared in a white flash surrounded by red spheres. As the two pokemon ran off around the area, Dean walked toward the trainer and asked, "You the guys who put up the fliers?"

 

[MysticalMonkeyMan]

(OOC : I noticed you had some open spots, so I'm joining. )

Max looked up at the building. He was nervous and a little anxious to meet who had organized this plea for help. Max was only thirteen, and only around the average height for his age, so he imagined being scrawny in the eyes of the volunteers.

Max took a deep breath and looked at the little green pokemon next to him. It was shaking, so Max picked up the Bulbasaur and placed it on his head. His Bulbasaur had never once gone in its pokeball since Max had received him from Prof. Oak a year a go.

Max un-crumpled the piece of paper in his hand. "This is the place" he quietly said to Bulbasaur. Bulbasaur nodded in agreement. Max took a deep breath and reluctently strided towards the building. He paused at the door and took a deep breath. He slowly yanked the door open and walked inside. He was extremely suprised to see just two boys in the room, and neither looked older then him. Max sighed in relief.

Max managed to say high and quickly took a seat.

 

[Tailon]

(OOC: nothing to add to the story now cuz my characters question hsn't been answered, but welcome, also both our characters are 17 for reference, check themainstream RP thing, mine's on pg. 16 and his is on 14 or 15 methinks)

 

[Sassafras]

OOC: Howdy, dudes. Just gonna slip in here.. hope y'all don't mind.

IC: "Hmm. It needs some green, doncha' think?"

The mismatched irises of Vermont turned to his Smeargle companion, Impasto, with much jubilation in their shining jewel-like depths. The painting pokemon only yawned and nodded boredly before leaping into action, paint-dipped tail in paw and a tired look resting on his muzzle. The redhead trainer with a spray-paint can in each hand mimicked the move, hands twisting everywhere to effectively cover the entire wall in a fresh coat of reds and blacks and blues. It was originally to be a painting of the ever-popular Great Ball but soon transformed into an abstract mess of swirls, unintelligible from pure gibberish scribbles. But not to the pair of artists. In their minds, it looked one-hundred-percent perfect.

Wrist flicking wildly around the make-shift canvas, Vermont's felony-made-fun quickly pausing as the aim of his next spritzing landed on what looked like a flier. Naturally, the youth stopped and stared at it, tossing the mostly-empty canister behind him to clatter onto the floor so that the now-unoccupied fingers could reach out and snatch the thing off it's flat surface. Impasto took over for his human, crawling up to hang on a ledge and finish the job where an empty space was blocking such from happening. Every inch of the wall needed color- not exceptions.

Vermont's visible eye scanned the scrap of parchment, and his brows raised in curiosity. This flier seemed to be about something interesting, the only word he recognized being "gymnasium", but as the boy had never actually attended school or paid attention, the ability to read was lost on him. When the Smeargle noticed the dilemma, he sluggishly beckoned for the teen to hand it over. His paw twitching in the universal "give it here" motion. Vermont quickly complied, shrugging to show he didn't know anything.

The round, dark brown optics of the dog-like artist were half-lidded but soon widened themselves when the message had been fully inspected. Vermont could only seem puzzled, using the cliche way of asking a Lassy-esque canine, "What is it, boy?"

But Impasto didn't care to answer or try to explain, only responding by hopping onto his trainer's back while sticking the paper infront of him. Pointing off in the direction of the specified meeting place, that was all the motivation Vermont needed to sprint off as ordered. Leaving a massive portrait behind, unsigned and anonymous.

 

[turbokid64]

(OOC: Well I think we have a decent amount of posts for me to get into the storyline some more. One thing I didn't put up on my first post is that I hate one paragraph posts. If you have a one paragraph post *hint hint Tailon* please modify it and make it at least two paragraphs.)

"Wow people actually showed up..." Spencer thought to himself as he improvised his speech.
"Hello everyone! My name is Spencer, a victom of the evil that is PokeStrong. I'm not good with speeches, but I know we all have our reasons for being here. People, Pokemon, it doesn't matter what it is. PokeStrong will destroy it if their plans pull through. We need to stop them. I'm not talking about rallies or protesters. I'm talking about infiltration and destruction. Whether we realize it or not: we are the last hope to destroy this evil company. Fierce, am I forgetting anything?" Spencer said as he finished his speech. The strangely colored Sandslash hopped up on the table Spencer had set in the middle of the gymnassium. Fierce was holding a small transmitter. "Oh, right! This is a transmitter that Fierce and I had designed at an unnamed laboratory. These things will cover half the distance of the globe." Spencer held up the transmitter. It was small, compact, and could fit into any trainers' belt.
After Spencer distributed everyone their transmitters, everyone introduced themselves. "...well in any case, we need to hit one of the PokeStrong company buildings. Let them know they aren't safe anymore. I'll give you all three days to prepare yourselves, say goodbye to friends and loved ones, and mentally prep. Meet back here when you're all ready in three days. See you all then." Spencer finished and walked out of the room. "I feel like that went quite well wouldn't you think so Fierce?" The sandslash simply rolled his eyes and walked ahead of his trainer.
(OOC: I'll be the one to start the assault on the first PokeStrong building. No one else start it before me. Oh and if anyone asks, yes Sassafras has permission to make a post here.)

 

[Yoshimitsu]

OOC- Turbokid, you're in no position to criticise anyone else's RPing when your posts are all terribly formatted and lacking decent grammar.

I suggest you read the Grammar Thread sticky at the top of this forum before you make any further posts in the RP forums. That goes for everyone apart from Sassafras.

 

[Sassafras]

OOC: ..Aww, I'm special!

But.. eheh, I do still need some work. My ability to be un-cliche is atrocious!
I'll just go ahead and have Vermont join the par-tay, then, I s'pose. 'Fore it's too late.

IC: "..We're goin' to have fun adda gym?"

Vermont looked skeptically over his shoulder at the pggy-backing Impasto with an incredulous expression on his features. He could be out painting more masterpieces right now, but instead he was going to be stuck inside. But.. glancing at the building and then back at his strongly urging Smeargle, the trainer realized it wasn't his choice to make. With that having been understood, his situation now steered by the lazy pokemon who's tail was undoubtedly dripping paint all over his backside, Vermont sighed melodramaticly. His frown flashed to a cheerful Cheshire cat grin and he was handed the flier so as to make it seem like he was supposed to be there or had some sort of reason.

Hands at the ready, he crashed- not strolled or passed- over the threshold by pushing open the doors in an almost wild manner. Waving rather spasstically with the advertising paper in hand, he called to the gymnasium at large, "Heeeellllooo~? Anyone hooome~?" The Smeargle merely rolled it's eyes before closing them completely, limply snoring on his buddy's shoulders.

However, Vermont's hollering was cut when he noticed others there besides himself; namely a couple of boys who looked to be relatively the same age as he was. It caused him to lower his gesticulating arm and instead focus on raising an eyebrow in question. He had not a clue what was going on, but if Impasto believed it was worth it then he might as well proceed until things became dull or his mind wandered elsewhere. He mumbled something along the lines of, "Uhh.." while cautiously making the next five or so steps onward. Brows both now fully escalated in puzzlement.

"S'up?" Vermont offered, smile remaining unawkward for the most part while the monotonous gurgle of the sleeping Smeargle worked as background noise. Perhaps he should have asked what was going on first, but.. then again, where was the fun in that?

 

[MysticalMonkeyMan]

They have here. I can't believe it. God, she just had to go and get herself caught!

Max was mumbling to himself. His face was deeply buried in the palms of his hands. He had little hope of rescuing anybody with this rag-tag group of teens.

"Our "leader" can't even make a speech!", he mumbled quietly to Bulbasaur. The little creature must have heard the hint of anxiety in his voice, because he slowly nudged Max's arm with his little emerald head. Max chuckled to himself and reached under his chair and pulled out his back-pack. He dug his fingers down in the depths of his bag for quite a while. He finally let out a little "ah-ha!" as his fingers closed around something. He slowly pulled out a bag of sweet smelling items.

"She made these for you before she left, Bulbasaur. I found them in my room with the note saying she was "going for a stroll"!. A stroll, my aunt phanny!" He delicately lifted Bulbasaur on to his lap and feed him a poffin from the bag. Bulbasaur looked up at his master to see why he wasn't giving him anymore of those sweet, delectable poffins. His masters eyes were fixed in a glassy stare into nothingness. Suddenly, Max thrust off his chair. He rammed his body into the door in a full blown tackle. Max broke into a full sprint as he bolted down the street, shoving people out of the way. Bulbasaur just laid on his back, dazed and confused.

(OOC: You'll find out where he's going. Just continue the story.)

 

[Tailon]

(OOC: Damn summer school! i almost forgot about this)

Dean looked over at the commotion as something fell to the floor, and saw a boy running out the door.
"Hey!" he yelled after him, when he suddenly noticed Pichu tugging at his hair.
"What now?" he wondered, looking in the direction Sparky indicated, only to see a Bulbasaur, on its back, lying on the floor. Dean immediately walked over, lifting the little seed pokemon and giving it an Oran Berry Sparky plucked from his pack.
"Did that guy leave you here?" he asked it, recieving a sad "Saur..." in reply.
"Well I'll take care of you till he comes back, k' little buddy?"

(OOC: meh, just trying to advance the story a bit, its not amazing, but I hope it helps...)

 

[MysticalMonkeyMan]

Max couldn't take it any longer. He ran with no specific destination. His mind was flooding with ideas about how to infiltrate Pokestrong.

He didn't get very far. In the midst of his thought, he forgot to pay attention to his actions. He was jolted back into reality when he ran smack-dab into the barrel chest of a burly man and fell backwards onto his rear. He looked up and got a better look at his obstacle. He was extremely large and muscular, with beady eyes and a thick mustache on his pudgy face. He was at least double Max's height, and......... he was laughing. Max shook his head to see if he was hearing this right. Then he realized who this was.

It was the Pokestrong agent who spotted Max as he was trying to break into a Pokestrong warehouse to retrieve his friend, Grace. She was the one who got taken. She had told Max she was going out for air, but she had really snuck away to try to break into a Pokestrong warehouse. She had left him a note telling him where she was really going, but hid it so Max wouldn't find it until hours after she had left. Seething in rage at her "stupidity", Max tried to retrieve her, but to no avail. He had to bail out on the mission when he was spotted by "Burly" here.

Max stood upright on the man's command. "Well, well, well. What do we have here?", asked the agent, but before Max could make a snide remark, he struck Max across the face with a gloved hand. Bleeding horribly, Max watched in terror as he threw out a Pokeball, and its contents materialized into a Tyranitar. This Tyranitar was no where near normal, or sane, for it was a genetically mutated Pokemon from none other than Pokestrong headquarters. Its gleaming, alien eyes stared at Max, as though he was in a horrible nightmare, but couldn't wake up. Max suddenly understood.

Max turned and ran back towards the building where Bulbasaur was. He heard the man command a hyper beam fired at him. Max jumped through the glass doors, much to the other volunteers suprise, and lay motionless on the ground as the beam fired over him. With much agony, for he had many pieces of glass protruding from various points on his body, Max took one of his own Pokeballs off his belt, pressed the button, and rolled it behind him. Within seconds, a Milotic layed curled on the ground, ready to help. Without raising his head, Max shouted, "Milotic, use ice beam to seal all the locks on the doors, create a bunker for us, and hold off the agent!" The serpentine Pokemon obeyed and silently began coating the doors in ice, sealing the building from the inside-out. Max began to relax. He thought they were safe. Before a bunker could be created, however, a sudden thundering boom rattled the building, and a large piece of the ceiling chipped off and fell to a crash on Max's head. He blacked out, the morbid faces of the volunteers around him etched into his mind.

(OOC: He isn't dead, so don't cut me out. He'll wake up soon)

 

[Tailon]

(OOC: I'm just gonna follow up on MysticalMonkeyMan's post)

Dean was the first to react after Max made his entrance.
"Sparky, get my first-aid kit!" Dean called to his Pichu, who immediately jumped onto his shoulder, taking a box with a red cross mark from his backpack as Dean ran toward the injured boy. As he ran, Dean took a red-and-white ball from his belt and dropped it releasing the red and tan Flareon residing in it.
"Dusty, gaurd the door with Milotic, be ready to use Flamethrower if you have to!" Dean called out, already kneeling by Max.

 

[MysticalMonkeyMan]

Everything was black. Black as night. Black as nothing. Thoughts swirled through his head.Was he dead? Did he lose?Suddenly, a horrible thing surfaced in the dark recesses of his mind. Was he dead?

"No!", Max blurted out as he awoke in a cold sweat. He looked around. The battle still raged on. He was being tended to by his fellow volunteer, Dean. Bulbasaur stood erect over Max, protecting him from the imminent danger that was slowly making ground towards the small group. His vision flashed to the front door. Milotic and, who was this, Max thought. It appeared to be a Flareon. He couldn't be sure, for his brain was pounding in his skull. He suddenly jumped to his feet and turned to Dean.

"We need to get out of here.", he said assertively.