Jackson stood at the edge of the forest treeline as he watched a caravan of Regime trucks driving towards the city. A few months ago, he'd have been one of the soldiers riding along in one of those transport trucks, but here he was. A disgrace to his family name. A rebel. Fighting the fight from the other side of the war he'd been a part of for so long. Sure, the war had been over for a couple decades, but it never stopped in the streets. Pokemon were still being captured, people were still being taken in for 'questioning', and most were put to work like slaves by the Regime. The lower-class was forced to submit to that fate, the upper-class having the advantage of being first pick for Regime infantry and officer ranks.

For Jackson, his way in had been through the family name. His uncle was a Regime officer, a high ranking one at that. It was an opportunity of a lifetime, and Jackson's parents wouldn't let him pass it up. Thrust into a life he never wanted, the Regime did what they could to make him an impressionable soldier. Having spent his first four years in Infantry ranks till they promoted him to an officer. The last two years had been horrible for him. Whatever 'training' he'd been put through was starting to slowly wear off. Jackson began reverting back to his old ways, his old thought process. His own way of thinking. None of what he was made to do was right, by any means.

As he stood there watching the last truck pass, Jackson thought a lot about the early days of his enlistment. How could his parents have agreed to putting him into this? Making him do these things to people, and pokemon alike. He never got to ask them if it was their true belief, or if they were just scared of Big Man in the sky who was constantly watching 'his people'. His parents had both died in the winter before last, one passing a few weeks after the other. Jackson shook his head of the saddening thoughts and turned to press on through the forests, his Houndour padding along at his side quietly, always vigilant.

Things had been.... different lately. A sense of growing unease among all parties, in Isaiah's eyes. It seemed like civilians were edgier, and for good reason. As the resistance grew bolder and bolder, the Regime would logically start to crack down on freedoms, as any fascist system tended to do. Isaiah had started to become more reliant on scouting ahead of time, and his supply runs had grown increasingly dangerous as well. "I need a partner..." He grumbled to himself, knowing that a second pair of eyes would make things so much easier.

Life for Isaiah had not been easy. Born to a poor family, he was pushed into a near slavery, working long hours as early as he was able, until he was exhausted. But Isaiah had always been good at escaping and hiding, and that was just as true when he was a child. He avoided work whenever possible, and poor record keeping meant he wasn't always missed. This was how he developed his skill for avoiding eyes, something he practices almost every day, and has for as long as he can remember. It was too bad that his home had been wiped out, but now... nothing would prevent him for doing anything he could to sabotage Regime efforts to crush the resistance.

Isaiah was in the forests, somewhere not too far from Jackson. A vigilant eye out, the young man had been tracking a hunter, one of the Regime who searched out wild pokemon and captured them for use later. But some hours earlier, Isaiah had lost the trail, and without a pokemon to help him track the man, Isaiah was lost. He hadn't been trained to follow the signs, and while logic had gotten him far, he was unable to find any more hints. Not one to give up, Isaiah had continued to push towards Jackson, not knowing the man was ahead of him.

Niamh scribbled notes onto her clipboard, feet solidly planted on her floating Metang as she finished recording the details of the burned battlefield. That the Regime’s military-issued fire pokemon had been through the previously-grassy clearing was no question, but the other Pokemon was a mystery. Large, reptilian prints indicated a large Pokemon—Niamh estimated Charmeleon-sized at least—but even stranger was Niamh’s gut instinct.

Dragon! her mind screamed at her. That’s a dragon Pokemon!

Niamh shook her head and continued noting down the print, measuring it from every side. The three-toed print was approximately two and three-quarters of an inch long, the large indentations where the claws were and the round base of the foot ruled out both mammal and bird respectively, as hard as these details were to catch with an untrained eye. No, this had to be a reptilian Pokemon—a realization that just made the voice inside her head shout louder.

Without turning her head, Niamh looked up from the clipboard and sighed before issuing a set of orders to her assigned Pokemon, instructing it to return to base. The Metang complied, drifting in the correct direction. If there was one thing Niamh could count on, it was the dual psychic-steel type Pokemon’s sense of direction. Being attuned to the earth’s core and poles gave it a marvelous, GPS-esque knowledge of its location, and the fact that the Regime’s military base was made completely of steel helped.

Oh yes, the Regime. How Niamh loathed and admired the organization that somehow managed to make entire nations of people cower before them—Niamh herself included. As much as she hated everything the Regime stood for, she couldn’t bring herself to join the rebel forces. It seemed much too illogical to throw everything she’d worked for, everything she’d earned in the trash to fight for what seemed like a lost cause. Besides, Niamh helped enough as a member of the Regime’s investigative team.

No one can fault an honest mistake, Niamh thought, scribbling a final line on the clipboard.

Pokemon seems to be either mammalian or avian. Expect a tier three or four, judging by size.

Raven's arms were tied up to the trunk of a tree above her head, blood starting to drip down into her eyes as she noticed the Regime officer turn back towards her, electric baton crackling loudly. She wouldn't allow them to see that she, to her unfortunate discomfort, was in quite a bit of pain. Raven scowled at the man closing the distance between them, shifting uncomfortably as the ropes around her wrists tightened, starting to give quite a nasty burn. The man simply laughed and leaned in close, inhaling deeply. Was he... smelling her?! He raised a hand and attempted to tuck a stray hair behind her ear before Raven pulled away.

"They're always sexier when they've got a fight in 'em. Ain't that right, boys?" A gang of laughter and consensus followed before he continued, "Awe, what's the matter sweetheart? Ain't a lovin' type of gal?" With no hesitation, not so much as skipping a beat, Raven spit at the officer directly in the face. Blood spatter covered his ugly mug, he angrily wiped it away and slapped Raven directly across her own face. Raven coughed up some more blood, spilling from her mouth like a small river flowing over her lips. 'Where's El?' she thought to herself, glancing around but it was hard to see with 3 sets of truck headlights blinding her vision passed a few yards out. Almost as soon the thought left her mind, the truck lights began to flicker before all 3 went out.

The men turned every which way to try figuring out what had happened, their pokemon standing at attention beside them growling, each growing as uneasy as their masters. Raven's blood-stained lips curved up into a smile as she whispered just loud enough for the captain who'd been assaulting her previously could hear, "Marco." With that, a loud explosion from behind the car to her right sounded off, the men screaming at their pokemon to chase after the thing that caused it. A fairly large yellow blur came charging from behind, bulldozing the growlithe and houndour in it's path, flailing it's arms at the soldiers attempting to shoot their net blasters at it.

Screaming incoherently, the Electabuzz charged straight at the captain and with both hands, slammed the poor man off to the side. Raven smiled as Electabuzz yanked the ropes free from the trunk of the tree. "Sadistic game of Marco-Pollo, eh?" His baring of his fangs was enough for Raven to know he agreed, his eyes were still had a slight red glow to them from his fit of rage. It wasn't time for looking him over, or dwelling on the pains she was feeling all over her body, it was time to run. And run, they did.




Jackson walked with his hands wrapped tightly around his assault rifle, looking around the never-ending sea of trees surrounding him as he kept moving forward. Houndour stopped in his tracks and turned his head to look behind him, his body following slowly. He began to growl, teeth bared as he stared off into the trees where they'd come from just before. Jack hadn't noticed Houndour fall behind but definitely heard him growl, turning to confront whatever it was Houndour was at an unease about, holding up his rifle aiming at whatever may be coming. A blast off in the distance to the right caused him to stop, turning his attention to said noise. Both him and Houndoor began to run towards it, Jackson carrying his rifle close to his chest and at the ready in case he needed it.

What Jack saw was something he hadn't seen in a long time. An Electabuzz. Wild, maybe. Definitely wasn't Regime. Only reason he knew that was, the damned thing attacking a group of soldiers who looked to be previously interrogating some young woman. From behind a tree, Jackson stayed out of sight and watched the scene unfold. The pokemon causing the chaos was the largest one he'd ever seen, looked to be a whopping four foot tall, compared to most of the type who barely made three and a half feet at most. Once the excitement had calmed a tad and the pokemon rescued the woman who was clearly it's master fled, Jack too, turned away from the scene and started off towards the way he'd been going before. He would have walked into the disaster to see if his ex-fellow soldiers were alright, since he could pull it off, still being in his uniform and all. But in case they were part of the ranks that knew of his dishonorable discharge, he would rather not risk the trouble.

This color denotes Inner thoughts that are not said aloud

"The hell was that?" Isaiah grumbled, hearing the electabuzz scream out. He had never seen the electric type before, and had no idea what to make of the sound, other than it seemed like a war cry. So Isaiah did what any naturally curious person would. He ran at near breakneck speed towards the sound, only stopping when he ended up 20 feet behind a houndour and a man in Regime uniform (@A Tattooed Girl). He had been a bit too loud, a bit too careless, and the man was sure to look.

So this was it.... Running face first into a Regime soldier. You know, it was kinda surprising this hadn't happened earlier. With a silent grunt, Isaiah jumped straight up, catching a branch and hauling his slender frame up into the tree. If he was luckier than a leprechaun sporting a jacket made of four leaf clovers and shoes made OF horse shoes then MAYBE Jackson and his houndour wouldn't look directly at Isaiah and notice him 10 feet above them. Then again, Isaiah was still within a normal cone of sight for the two. Well ain't this about as fun as dancing on broken glass barefoot.... Why don't I carry a gun anymore?

The sound of an explosion in the distance alerted Niamh first, and the sudden tense in her muscles caused the Metang to stop instinctively, awaiting orders. ”Head towards the explosion,” Niamh ordered, slipping her clipboard and pen into her backpack before standing again. As soon as she cleared the trees, the source of the explosion was clear: an Electabuzz, bright yellow-and-black, zigzagging through the forest with its rebel owner.

Here Niamh’s choices opened up—she could either fly over and try to capture the rebel, or she could act the fool and simply fly over to the wreck. However, should anyone see her in the air right now, they guess that she had no intention of capturing the trainer and therefore no loyalty to the Regime. I suppose a bruise or two would convince the cocky airheads in the Interrogation Department that pretty face can’t do much outside of the lab? Niamh thought, frowning. ”Metang—head towards the escapees, pronto.”

Metang obeyed, gliding over silently but quickly. Niamh knelt down, gripping the installed metal handles for that very purpose as the pair came to a drifting hover over the Electabuzz and its trainer—a black-haired girl, by the looks of it. Niamh sighed. Well, here goes nothing.

”Hey!” Niamh shouted down at the girl. ”Stop right there!”

---

@A Tattooed Girl

---

A few hundred yards away, a girl watched the action through the scope of her rifle. She’d been tracking the brunette with the clipboard, most likely one of the so-called “scientists”, for a while, looking for an opportunity. Silent kills were the best when it came to dealing with the Regime; Shade would keep watch while Razor went for the kill. By the time anybody realized what had happened, it would be too late; they'd have the safety of distance and their prey would be thoroughly on edge. Sniping was loud and drew attention, plus the hunting Pokemon were annoyingly good at tracking her down once they were let loose, but she could usually get two or three before having to move. Unfortunately, the presence of the Metang and the general lack of cover made it more difficult. Steel Pokemon always were difficult kills.

The prisoner made things more complicated. Shade knew better than most that it tended to be a very short-term state, and it was seldom a pleasant one. She'd seen it before: in all likelihood, the girl would have a temporary stay in a tiny cell, followed by an interrogation in which anything was allowed, then a mockery of a trial before her summary, and possibly publicly televised execution. If she was lucky. The unlucky ones were an exercise in imagination that Shade preferred not to do.

Unfortunately, there hadn't been a great deal she could do. As much as Shade might have wanted to help, the girl was surrounded by soldiers. Shade and Razor were good, but not THAT good. One would have to be suicidal to just charge in.

Apparently somebody was. An being rather successful at it, if the exploding trucks were any indication. An Electabuzz? Didn't know they lived out here. Things began moving very fast, and very surprising. The Electabuzz freed the girl, and after a brief moment the pair took off, straight in Shade’s direction. It would take only seconds for the disoriented guards to give pursuit. Her previous target was now moving to intercept. She'd seen Metang move quickly across open terrain, but the trees would force it to slow down or risk clotheslining its master on a branch. As amazing as that would be to see, the Regime made sure their Pokemon were too well “trained” to let that happen. Shade made her decision.

The sharp crack of the rifle echoed through the trees, and one of the guards chasing the fleeing escapee slumped to the ground. She knew Razor was watching everything, and the Sneasel was smart enough to realize what she wanted. He wouldn't be happy about it, but he would understand. Loading in another round, she aimed a snarling Growlithe that was closing on the girl's heels. Another pull of the trigger, and the Puppy Pokemon went tumbling nose over tail. A black blur leaped from amid the forest undergrowth, and blood spurted from the neck of another guard as the Sneasel disappeared as quickly as it had arrived. He'd be heading up into the trees now, attack from another vantage point.

Shade turned her aim back to the scientist girl. She was getting close now, and if she ordered Metang to use its psychic abilities, it would be all over for the escapee. Shade took aim, leading the shot, but a moving target heading in a perpendicular direction was not an easy shot to make, as the bullet caught the scientist in the shoulder and knocked her off her seat. Dammit! The lack of a clean kill made Shade grit her teeth. She only had a handful of bullets left on her, and she doubted that she would get the opportunity to loot the bodies. This girl she was helping had better be worth it.

@A Tattooed Girl@Dusksong

The shooting pain in Niamh's shoulder surprised her, to say the least. Her brain told her it was a bullet wound and that the bullet had missed bone, but her nerves told a different story of raw, searing agony. The impact of the bullet shocked her so much the Niamh’s grip on the Metang’s bars loosened, causing her to fall from the Pokemon. As all Metang are trained for such situations, the Pokemon quickly swerved and caught its assignment in a gray-blue blur. Agility, Niamh recognized dimly, a faint smirk on her face. Glad to see I got one of the few slabs of floating metal with brains.

Niamh picked herself up off her side to stand on the Metang. The escapee with the Electabuzz was nowhere to be seen, but now Niamh had a new target—the girl who had shot her. Niamh could see her clearly now through the trees, crouching with a rifle. Their eyes met. Niamh’s brain whirled.

Options: fight or flight. Question: was the non-lethal shot intentional? Yes: shot missed bone, traveling between clavicle and scapula; has not made a second shot. No: Shot would have hit superior vena cava or even aorta if hadn’t moved; girl’s stance is tense—sees me as danger.

One hand gripping her shoulder tightly to stem the blood flow, Niamh’s eyes scanned the shadowy forest for further life. A flash of black and red indicated that there was—presumably a Pokemon, judging by the speed. By color, it was probably a dark Pokemon.

”Metang. Agility and magnet rise,” Niamh said, crouching down and clamping a hand on a bar. The Metang complied, heightening its speed to a blur before rising further off the ground. ”Head back to base.”

The pair disappeared in a gray-blue flash towards the Regime base.

---

@thundercrash

Raven was running as fast as she could but of course no one was fast enough to outrun the Regime's trained hounds. She could hear them coming from behind her, tailing her every dip and dodge when suddenly a shot range out through the valley. Then another, and suddenly there were no pursuing footsteps directly behind h- and another shot. Now there were none that she could hear. Raven slowed down to a stop to catch her breath, standing bent over with her hands on her knees, taking long, deep breathes. From behind, a voice called out. "Hey!" Raven looked over her shoulder, assuming she'd see her rescuer. She was wrong. "Stop right there!" A Regime Scientist.

Raven's heart dropped and she immediately shoved Electabuzz into a separate direction to run and began running another route. She wouldn't be caught, not again. Not twice in one friggin' day! The large metal pokemon was gaining on her as well, now, and Raven only feared the worst. Another sharp crack of a shot rang out, followed by a hard thud behind her. Against her better judgement, Raven turned to see what had happened to the Scientist that'd been in her pursuit, finding her on the ground but still very much alive. Quickly scanning the surrounding area, she realized the Scientist was the only one following her. Raven smirked and began to make yet another run for it, thanking her guardian angel, whoever that may be, and hoped maybe one day they'd cross paths so she could give a proper thanks. She'd been too busy staring behind her to realize where exactly she was running, and ran directly into a young man (@Lyghtbringer) who, unto her knowledge had been climbing the tree, both collapsing onto the floor. Raven shoved the guy off of her, scrambling away from him as she looked him over quickly, realizing he wasn't Regime. She let out a mental sigh of relief. Not much to her surprise though, as she looked over, there stood a Regime officer (Jackson) with his houndour, both looking down at them with flat-faced expressions. "Shit."




Jackson's Houndour beside him began to growl softly, it's back arched slightly, the fur raised up along its spine. Holding up his rifle, Jackson took aim and scanned the forest, spinning around when he heard what sounded like a tree branch snap, a feminine grunt and a loud collapse of weight. Just 20ft from Jackson and Houndour lay two civilians, one being the girl he'd watched escape from the other soldiers. Obviously they weren't together by the way they looked at each other, but then the girl looked at him. Her eyes widened just slightly as she cursed to herself. The girl looked beaten up pretty bad, and although it wasn't his fault, Jackson felt bad, himself. That was the kind of thing he'd been forced to do over the years being one of them.

There was a silent stand-off for a minute before Jackson slowly lowered his gun, seeing the boy had neither weapon nor pokemon at his side. At least that he knew of. The young man, looking to be not much younger than himself, wouldn't be much harm to him. Jackson was a respectful young man in himself. If an enemy didn't have a weapon, neither would he. It was that simple. An old view that the Regime laughed off. Kill or be killed. Regime never let themselves be the latter, if they could help it. Jackson realized the girl's Electabuzz was nowhere to be seen, but with the kind of destruction it had caused with a decent squad of soldiers and their own pokemon, it was clear this was a fight he didn't want to pick. He quickly slid his rifle over his shoulder, holding up his hands to show he meant no harm. Raising a hand to his partner, Houndour saw the silent command and immediately calmed down, sitting on it's haunches at Jackson's side just staring at the strangers before them.

"My name is Jackson Kincaid." Looking around to be sure there were no lurking Regime soldiers around, he met their eyes again and continued, "I mean you no harm." Jackson swallowed hard, only slightly nervous, that missing Electabuzz was a real reason to be. Though his instinct was to try locating the dangerous beast, Jackson stood his ground and stared back at the two people before him. He hoped they'd not give him too much grief if they decided to ban together and try overtaking him and Houndour. One could only hope they'd be as civil as he was trying to be, right now.

Isaiah grunted as the woman ran into him from behind, crashing them both into the ground. "Oh for the love of all that's holy." He groaned, looking up into the eyes of the woman as she backed off. "Well. This is unexpected...." He glanced over to the supposed regime officer, rolling up and back onto his feet in one fluid move that kept his eyes on Jackson at all times. His hand reached back to his hip, where the gun he once carried openly no longer rested. "Great...."

Then Jackson introduced himself and Isaiah's eyebrows rose. He considered the possibilities. He didn't have a pokemon, and wasn't armed. The man obviously had both. The woman... Well, Isaiah wasn't sure what she had. But he had a feeling she wasn't holding a gun. Non-regime members tended to shoot first, ask questions later when their lives were in danger. And for good reason. So... There was no good reason for Jackson to keep them alive if he was a regime member. At least, not without using his gun to do it. "Just... call me vantage...." He said, glancing to both of them and waiting, knees bent some and an obviously cautious nature to his body language.

@A Tattooed Girl

---

A faint rustling sound came from the tree behind Jackson, and a dark shape dropped down onto his back. Before anyone could breath, the Sneasel unsheathed one of its claws and pressed it up against the former Regime soldier’s throat, perfectly placed to slice a line straight across. It would take much less than a minute for him to bleed out, though he would be dead well before then from his lungs filling with his own blood.

For several heartbeats, silence fell over the group, then a feminine voice called out from the trees. ”What are you waiting for, Razor? Kill him.”

The Sneasel’s eyes flicked between its captive and the group standing before them several times, and it made a sound that was somewhere between a hiss and squeak.

”What do you mean, “no”?” Shade stepped out of the trees, scowling harshly. She was pissed that the scientist girl had survived, and not in any mood to be merciful. ”He’s Regime, we kill bastards like him.” Razor answered with a chittering noise, though he didn’t remove his claw from Jackson’s throat, and Shade’s scowl became even darker. ”I don’t care what he said! He’s with the Regime, he deserves to die.”

@A Tattooed Girl@Lyghtbringer

---

---

Lilith was alone on a hilltop overlooking the valley below her. Why, however, she was unsure. Watching -doing nothing- was a boring job, one for petty soldiers, not spec ops. Still, her CO had commanded her to watch over the kill, make sure nothing went wrong. "She's a high priority target, very dangerous", he had said. Bullshit. Lilith thought. She was fairly certain he was just punishing her for her last assignment -which had ended in failure. If someone would've listened to me rather than run off to play -- the thought was cut short by some commotion on scene. Her eyes focused in on the Electabuzz that had just made its explosive entrance. "Wow. Why can't you be that useful?" she seemed to say to the wind. In response, a stray tongue materialized out of thin air, followed by the sound of someone blowing a raspberry. Lilith figured she was now covered by some sort of formless ectoplasmic spit. "You're such a child," she said disdainfully, "You know what to do. Gengar, kill." With that the apparition left her, off to -hopefully- perform its duties.

Though typically sparsely populated, this forest was quite lively at the present. From her position high above the action, Lilith watched as everything unfolded. The rebel below seemed to be getting away. In chase, the scientist, floated on her standard-issue Metang. The sniper -which Lilith would've missed had she not been trained to look for the glare of an enemy scope- was stationed at a position on the adjacent hill. After watching the sniper down two of her regime compadres, Lilith determined it to be the most vital target; the thrill of the chase would soon begin. Hopefully Gengar would be there by now, in position for when he was needed. With that, Lilith silently began moving towards the target. She hoped, at the very least, that this one would be more challenging than those prior.

Thankfully for Lilith, she was downwind from the target, which had now become a group of targets. Lucky me! she thought, pleased to find such a large helping of... playthings. From a vantage point above the clearing in which the four rebels had now gathered, Lilith waited. Finally, she saw a rippling of light in front of the sniper. Simultaneously, all the light in the clearing seemed to dim, the air growing suddenly colder. Out of the ground rose an ominous darkness. With her pokemon preoccupied, she's as good as dead. Lilith thought as a Gengar formed out of the strange blackness. The performance was going so well, Lilith had to fight down shivers. She suspected by this time the rebels might also be shivering, though for an entirely different reason. Blood-red eyes leveled with those of the sniper, quickly enough to prevent a response, but not enough so that no fear could be felt by the victim. Lilith let out a shrill laugh at the sight of her success.

...Wait a minute. The sniper had yet to fall down dead. Lilith's head turned questioningly. What the... Lilith realized with dread that Gengar had in fact not killed the target, but had instead passed a wet, slimy tongue over her face. Just as fast as it had appeared, Gengar vanished into the wind. "AHHHHH! You idiot!" Lilith screamed. "Until next time! I'm not finished with you yet!" she yelled to the group below her while retreating back into the depths of the forest.

Lilith, once she had distanced herself enough to be sure she wouldn't be detected, called the failure into her CO. Though she expected punishment, she instead received more orders. Follow them. Figure out what they are up to. We need to know if the rebellion is organizing again.

"My name is Jackson Kincaid. I mean you no harm." Raven glared up at the man, not believing his words for a second. Regime weren't trustworthy. Once she caught her breath some from colliding into the guy beside her, having had the wind practically knocked right out of her, she put her index and thumb to her mouth and whistled softly. Soft enough for surrounding Regime officers still in the area not to hear but Electabuzz would hear it. She knew he'd come find her once he heard the whistle. He was a great tracker, even for his breed which didn't typically care to do such things.

"Just," the guy seemed to eyeball the soldier, with good reason, too. Who were they to believe his lies? Definitely not stupid, that's for sure. "-call me 'Vantage'." Raven looked up at Vantage and scoffed, shaking her head as she got up and dusted herself off, all the while keeping an eye on Kincaid. "Yeah, I don't think so, Cowboy. Ain't telling you shit. You can take me back to base and try getting it out of me there, but here, I won't give up a thing." Glancing at Vantage, she looked at him like 'What the hell is wrong with you?!' before smiling as Electabuzz broke through the trees and came to stand behind her. The Electabuzz, at average height would stand roughly at 3ft tall, however hers was about a foot and a half shorter than herself and a foot taller than most in it's breed.

"Why should we believe you? I get it, you put your gun down and told your little power pup over there to heel," Raven smiled when the Houndour beside Kincaid bared it's teeth at her, "-but seriously, you're Regime. You assholes always have another motive up your sleeves." Before Raven could completely finish, a flash of black and red fell from the trees above Kincaid and landed on is back. A Sneasel was now mounted on his shoulders, it's sharp claws at his neck ready to slice him wide open. "What are you waiting for, Razor? Kill him." Raven looked around for the voice that sprang from nearby, a questionable expression on her face. Electabuzz was growing uneasy beside her, baring his teeth and breathing a bit harder than usual. A soft buzzing from his own electricity building within him as he stared, unmoving at the Sneasel. The Sneasel looked between Kincaid, Vantage and Raven as if wondering whether or not it should kill the man in it's grasp. I mean, not in front of all these nice people, right?

The Sneasel made a sound, and that's when not only the voice came again, the person it belonged to emerged from the trees. Both with an angry expression and tone about them. "What do you mean, 'no'? He’s Regime, we kill bastards like him." The pokemon seemed to return fire with it's own sorts of chattering, the trainer becoming even more fiercely upset with the creature. "I don’t care what he said! He’s with the Regime, he deserves to die." The pokemon stayed in position, and Raven reached back to gently nudge Electabuzz back. Not in an attempt to make another run, but holding him back from joining in. She knew he would if Raven let him, but this wasn't their fight. The girl and the Sneasel seemed to have it handled.

Just then, out of thin air, appeared a bright purple ghost-type pokemon. 'Gengar! Shit, if only I hadn't used Electabuzz's ball on him, I would possibly have a go at catching it.' Raven thought to herself. What she wouldn't give for a Haunter, but a Gengar would do, too. The great big ghost then spat out it's large tongue and drug it across the huntress's face before disappearing into the wind, again. Raven couldn't help but let out a slight giggle which she quickly choked down, she didn't want to piss the huntress off and be her next target. And yet, another voice came from above, causing Raven to look up for the one it belonged to. "AHHHHH! You idiot! Until next time! I'm not finished with you yet!"




Jackson looked between both of them, ready to reply to the girl's response but was cut off by a sudden weight on his back, a couple of sharp blades pressed to his neck. Immediately, Jackson placed a hand at his side to calm his now, full-attack-mode Houndour, forcing his pal to sit impatiently. Houndour sat there eyeing the Sneasel all the while, a slight red glisten in his eyes. He wanted to wrap his mouth around the thing's neck and do unto it what it seemed to be wanting to do to his master. Jackson kept Houndour at bay with a simple hand held out in a fist, meaning simply, 'hold' or 'stay'.

The chattering and voices around Jackson peaked his interest, and he wanted to turn to see who the pokemon on his back belonged to. Wanted desperately to face his attacker, but found himself staring between Vantage and the girl. Was this.. mercenary with either of them? Jackson swallowed hard, feeling the pokemon's claws digging deeper into his throat. A small, thin line of scarlet running down his neck. He dared not move, nor did he dare try to speak. In a situation like this, all Jackson felt he should do was comply. He didn't have the upper hand, and he didn't want to seem like he'd do something. His rifle was safely tucked against his back between himself and the Sneasel. His knife was strapped to his belt, but what good would it do him to try wrestling for it before the damned beast on his back just slit his throat and be done with it. None.

Jackson grit his teeth together tightly, hearing a lick! and the girl in front of him try not to laugh, raising his eyebrow in confusion. 'The fuck just happened?' he thought to himself. From the trees then came a voice, not from the huntress that stood not too far from him, but a new one. The sound of retreat was a bit of relief, but it also sounded as though they had quite a military tone to their voice. 'Regime?' Jackson was almost desperate enough for them to come to his rescue, even if the woman had known he was a dishonorable discharge on the run from said Regime. He didn't wanna die. Not here, and definitely not like this. The girl had been right about one thing, before, in her name-calling. He was a true 'cowboy'. Jackson wished to go out "guns blazin'."

Taking a deep breath, Jackson peeked out of the corner of his eye towards the huntress behind him and spoke in a calm tone. "I'm not a soldier. I simply stole this garb off of a dead one in hopes to get through some of the camps I had to travel through a few miles back. If you don't believe me, travel back south-east about 4 miles and you'll find the massive campsite full of the lot. I got no quarrel with ya'! So if you wouldn't mind, let me go and we can speak in a more formal manner." Jackson's hand was still held out in a fist towards his pokemon, holding houndour in his place. The dark pokemon looked back and forth between his trainer and the two threatening his life, waiting for his next order - whatever it may be.

Interactions: Kinda everyone really....

Thoughts raced through Isaiah's mind. What to do, what to do. Back on his feet, no gun. No weapon at all actually. Why had he stopped carrying it... that's right. He would have shot Jackson by now if he hadn't. Not a good idea.... Sniper in the woods. Ghost pokemon around... Sneasal and Houndour.... Isaiah ran fingers through his hair and glanced about, wanting to just yell at everyone to shut the hell up for half a second. But no... They wouldn't listen. He was just a kid in the woods.

That gave him an idea. There was a gun in his backpack, if he could assemble the damn thing. But... No ammo. Shit. But then, another thought came to him. Something one of them said. "He is Regime, he deserves to die?" Isaiah quoted, staring at Jackson for emphasis. "Is that what you think? Because if so, you should go jump off a cliff. Seriously, how close minded and hateful can you actually get without becoming Regime? Because I think you are there. If all you do is go around murdering people because of the organization they are with."

Isaiah was pissed off. That mentality was what HE was fighting against. That was the thinking HE wanted to stop. The mentality of 'The ends justify the means' was exactly what the Regime was likely to say, how they acted. Shoot first, ask questions later. It was a part of the reason they were feared and hated. Have an unliscened pokemon with you? It was taken, and you were probably dead. Get called a rebel? You died. No trail, no fairness. It sickened him that some people out there wanted to fight that sort of hatred and fascism, with the exact same thing and call themselves rebels or freedom fighters. "Freaking ridiculous."

Isaiah turned. "Oh yeah. Those of us who don't want to be caught by the regime? I suggest we move. You know. Since several of them are dead and haven't checked in via radio. there are bound to be more coming. Especially with the metang riding scientist running back to a base and nobody chasing her down? I'm going to scavenge the bodies, then I'm out." And like that, Isaiah slipped into the trees and down towards the bodies, his hood up and black clothes blending quite well into the scenery as he began to dig through the remains of the squad for supplies.

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The weak starter turned over the rusty innards of the old motor slowly. This is it! Aiden thought, hopeful the damn thing would finally 'sputter' to life. After a few seconds with no improvement, he sighed deeply, frustrated, sliding out from under the large cycle precariously balanced above him. Across the dirty garage, Eithina's head lay in an empty toolbox. Aiden's sound of anguish caused her to lift her head. She looked at him a moment, then turned her head quizzically. "Eee?" she asked. "Motor's misaligned." he responded. That was the second time, too. Aiden almost never made a mechanical mistake, let alone the same one twice. "Maybe the bracket's faulty." Though it had shown no apparent signs of fatigue, Aiden had neglected to measure it. Eithina, having already performed the task twice that day, picked out the tools needed for the job. She carried them over, one by one, to where Aiden was sitting beside the old machine. He looked at the unorganized pile of metal that had suddenly amassed beside him, then to Eithina, who was sitting beside it. Somewhere in bringing over the tools, she had managed to get a dab of oil on her nose. Aiden licked his finger, then wiped it off. "Thanks, E." he said. He slid back under the P12, wrench in hand.

If there was one thing Aiden didn't loath about the Regime, it was their equipment. The fact that the bike could still turn over was quite impressive given its age. Still, 'turning over' and 'running' were two different things. Aiden knew they didn't have much time. In all honesty, their luck had lasted longer than it should've: hiding out in this particular garage, run by a rebel sympathizer, without already having been caught. He just hoped that Lady Luck wouldn't give out on him quite yet. He still had work to do.

The boss had been willing to trade the P12 and parts for it in exchange for hard workers, a deal Aiden was willing to take. Though no one else had been able to get the cruiser running, Aiden was sure it could be done. And he was right. After swapping out the bent bracket and bolting on the new one, Aiden pushed the start button. Finally, the motor caught right. A faint humming could be heard resounding through the brick garage. "Alright!" he cried happily. Eithina rushed over, equally ecstatic to finally finish the job, hopping up and down in celebratory fashion.

The sun was just beginning to peak in the sky as Aiden exited the garage, lifting his hood up to avoid detection. Though he doubted the regime was even looking for him so far south of Alaska, it couldn't hurt to be too careful. Also, the nearby Regime base loomed ominously over the small city. It seemed somewhere even as obscure as Gardiner, Montana heavily felt the presence of the tyrannical Regime rule. There would likely be militia out. Aiden decided then that he would try out a piece of new tech he had been working on.

In his work on the P12s and P13s, which was quite an extensive amount, Aiden had realized that Regime technology needed some form of internet connection to run a search on a facial recognition database. With that information, and no small amount of scrounging, he built an all in one wifi / internet jammer from the remnants of an old cellular device. Though he had no assurances it would work, Aiden was fairly confident. It would be just the thing to slip in and out of town 'unseen'. He reached down in his boot, flipping a small switch. He then began the long walk to his boss's favorite bar, a quiet old building just outside the outskirts of the Regime base.

Upon arrival, Aiden noticed a small camera residing in the corner of the room. Apart from himself and the bartender, the place was empty. He kept his head down, walking carefully over to the bar, hoping he wouldn't be recognized. So far, so good. he thought as he ordered his drink.

When the air became dimmer and colder, Shade became even more guarded than she already was. There were only a few Pokemon that she knew of who could have such an effect, and with most of those acting hastily was a good way to end up dead. The fact that most Pokemon had little to no conception of good or bad had little bearing on how dangerous they could be.

She looked around warily, trying to locate the source of the change and hoping that the others would take the hint and not do anything stupid that might provoke the new arrival. When a patch of ground darkened and smiled at her with crimson eyes, she froze. Gengar. Of all the Spectral Ones that she could have encountered, this one was the least desirable on account of their capricious temperaments. Gengar were notoriously difficult to predict, especially wild ones, and their moods could change by the second; one moment harmless and playful pranksters, the next persistent and cruel tormentors.

Still, this was not the first time that Shade had dealt with Ghosts, and she made no effort to conceal her consternation. Much like many Psychic types, with whom they shared a number of similarities, Ghosts were very sensitive to emotions, and if Gengar's had any consistency it was that their actions often were to provoke responses. It was a delicate line to walk. Maintain a stoic face, and the Gengar might be impressed at the display of self-control, or insulted at how little its efforts were thought of. Show fear, and it might leave having gotten what it desired, or it might persist in its games.

For her part, Shade chose a middle ground; as the Shadow Pokemon rose up out of the ground to float in front of her, she allowed it to see that it had indeed succeeded in frightening her, but now that she was aware of its presence, that fear would not control her. She also lowered her rifle a little and bent her head, murmuring, ”Welcome, honoured Spectre. May the night’s embrace aid you in your wanderings.”

The Gengar's smile faltered, apparently surprised at her words. Its leering eyes narrowed, as though it suspected a trick of some sort. When none was forthcoming, it abruptly sniggered and lunged forward, swiping its broad tongue up her face, knocking her hood back and leaving her a sticky mess. Slightly stunned by the wholly unexpected tongue-bath, Shade could only watch as the Gengar dissolved into air, still sniggering at her, its crimson eyes the last to vanish.

... Thanks?

A shrill shout startled her back to reality. Clearly feminine, but far enough away that the words were indistinct, the voice’s owner had already vanished as Shade looked about for it. Still, it did serve as a good reminder that they were all still very near to enemy territory. Best to deal with things here quickly and move on, it was doubtful that the exploding trucks had gone unnoticed. Even if they had, once the trucks failed to report in, and the plumes of smoke were seen, somebody would put two and two together and come investigating. Shade wanted to be long gone by that time.

"I'm not a soldier. I simply stole this garb off of a dead one in hopes to get through some of the camps I had to travel through a few miles back. If you don't believe me, travel back south-east about 4 miles and you'll find the massive campsite full of the lot. I got no quarrel with ya'! So if you wouldn't mind, let me go and we can speak in a more formal manner."

The uniformed man’s words did make her pause though. Over the past few years, Shade had been no stranger to looting Regime corpses. Things like ammunition were difficult to come by in the wild, even when limiting her bullets to soldiers. His reasoning was somewhat sound as well, back north you dressed for the weather, or the weather would kill you as quickly as any gun. If he was telling the truth about the camp though (she'd come out of the northeast), why was he still wearing the uniform? Only Regime soldiers wore them, and impersonating one was almost as bad as having an unlicensed Pokemon. Plus, he was lucky that she hadn't already shot him.

As she thought about it, she ignored the other boy entirely. Shade had no interest in dealing with naive morons who still deluded themselves into thinking that the Regime could be reasoned with. It didn't want to be reasoned with; the only thing the Regime cared to understand was exploiting Pokemon and murdering anyone who disagreed with them. You were either with the Regime, or you were against them, there was no middle ground. She make those rules, the Regime did, and anyone who made the choice to side with the Regime (and they always had a choice) would get no mercy from her. That was the reality of war, he'd see that soon enough.

”... Come’re Razor.” The Sneasel’s little ears twitched at her words, and he leaped back up into the trees, easily making his way back to her. Her gun, however, remained firmly trained on the uniformed man. ”Wearing that is a good way to get shot, by somebody.” Her eyes narrowed. ”And I don't trust anybody who keeps it around with them. If you're really not with them, then prove it.” She gestured to him as he turned around, the tone of her voice indicated just how serious her next words were. ”I want to see you burn it. Until then, you'll excuse me if I keep you where I can see you.”

@A Tattooed Girl@Lyghtbringer

”Take off the uniform, and burn it.” Everything else was a blur to Jackson. Nothing the huntress, nor the other guy had said before really sunk in. But burning his uniform? It'd been almost like a security blanket, in a way. He felt safe when he had it on, although at the same time it was a huge target on his back as well. Maybe it was time to blend in with the crowd?.. Jackson eyed the woman and her Sneasel, tapping his thigh to make Houndour close in to him, making him sit at his feet. "Why should I have to burn it? I'll just steal a new one from another dead soldier. You really want to sit here and waste that time that I'd have to undress in front of all you fine people, burn this uniform, and have to get redressed? By the time that happens, there will be Regime all over this forest. They're already on their way, no doubt, with that explosion from earlier and the heavy smoke that now rises through the skies. We have to go. There's no time for your silly games, Miss. Maybe another time, but for now, we need to move." Jackson risked reaching back into his waistband to retrieve his pistol to which he brought forward, releasing the clip and popping the round in the chamber out. He did the same with his rifle, storing both mags into his backpack along with the pistol. He then shouldered his pack and empty rifle, whistling low for Houndour to follow.

"Kill me if you don't believe me, just don't hurt my dog. He won't hurt you unless I tell him to." Jackson had left one thing out, but figured it didn't matter whether it was said or not. He didn't fear death. It was something the Regime took from him. Jackson didn't fear much anymore, except getting caught. There was nothing but death for him no matter where he turned, and if he was to die at the hands of some wanderer, it'd be much quicker than the Regime would have done it. Slow and painful. Calling over his shoulder, he made one final remark before walking off in long strides into the North East. "Do what you wish, but I'd hurry up and decide fast."

Raven stood there looking between the three strangers around her, watching the supposed soldier walk off with his Houndour trotting just behind him. Electabuzz behind her was still focused on the Sneasel, his eyes slightly aglow. Raven turned to see him staring, and she gently nudged him out of his trance, walking slowly towards the soldier as she dipped her head to the girl with the sniper respectfully. "I would assume you were the one to help me, before. Thank you, kindly. I owe you my life, in the most literal sense. If our paths ever happen to cross in the future, anything you need, I'm there.. but, I think I'll be going with him." She jams her thumb off into the direction Jackson was beginning to disappear in the trees. "If he is who he says he is, and he's not Regime, he seems to have made it quite far. If he is a soldier, well.. I'm pretty sure I could handle myself. Least got someone who's got my back." Electabuzz beamed, knowing too well that Raven had meant him. She, too, smiled back at him and bowed her head to the huntress before limp-running off after Jackson, yelling a 'Hey wait up!' after him.

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Interacting with: Shade (@Thundercrash), Jackson and Raven (@A Tattooed Girl), Isaiah (@Lyghtbringer)

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The wind blowing through the treetops had stilled itself, almost as if in anticipation. Nothing moved, save the five man spec ops team silently maneuvering through the undergrowth. Lilith would've prefered a more experience team for this type of encounter, but beggars couldn't be choosers. These were the only soldiers in the area with anything beyond basic qualifications. Besides, she -well not really me, but...- had just blown an almost identical mission. She was lucky to be in a leading position as it was.

Why CO had chosen her for this was beyond her. The mission consisted of the same targets, included the same dangers, set at....the same location? Lilith held up a fist to her team, stopping them in their tracks. They haven't moved...at all? An interesting strategy, one Lilith was keen to take advantage of. It seemed they were still...working out their differences. The regime team now positioned 50 meters away had no such weaknesses. Lilith stifled a giggle, happy to finally take down another mark -with the added bonus of a few more heads. Presently, she signaled her team to begin flanking the clearing on both sides. The death of the breeze would now favor her team, as the Houndour sitting amongst the rebels likely wouldn't pick up a scent til it was too late. Lilith took it as a sign, foreshadowing her success.

While waiting for her team to take up position around the clearing, Lilith thought on the advantages her opponents had. Three of the four had a pokemon: a Sneazel, Houndour, and Electabuzz would be a great help to the rebels. Two of them obviously had weapons, the others might not. It wasn't until this moment that Lilith realized...One of them is ex-regime. Not that it bothered her at all. He will recieve a traitor's death, just like the others she thought. Before she could identify the ex-soldier any further, four clicks sounded in the com she wore in her ear. The sounds indicated that all four members of her team were ready. Let the show begin! A wicked gleam shone in her eyes.

Lilith green-lighted all four soldiers HUD displays, giving them the go ahead. All at once, hell erupted around the unsuspecting group of rebels. The standard-issue Houndours kept by all four regime soldiers went to work lighting ablaze the surrounding forest. The dry wood caught almost instantly, directed by the well-trained pokemon to encircle the rebels in a wall of fire.

Simultaneously, the marksman of her team carried out special orders. He was to assassinate the ex-soldier, greatly reducing the risk of failure. Even though he didn't appear to be spec ops, most regime soldiers could fight their way out of a trap. He had the greatest chance at survival. The soldier let out his rifle's bipod, laying prone to increase his accuracy. The crosshairs of his scope leveled on the target's head. He stopped breathing, readying himself for the kick. He squeezed the trigger slowly...BANG! Before he could fire, an explosion went off in the distance. He had flinched at that, causing his shot to hit the tree behind the ex-regime man. Another truck had, at that moment, blown up.

Lilith waited to see how the rebel group would react, ready to chase after any of the nasties that managed to escape.

Interactions with Lillith's squad @sMoKe
Actions effect Jackson & Raven @A Tattooed Girl || Shade @Thundercrash


Isaiah dug through the wreckage, glad for the smoke and dust that still filtered through from the smoking trucks around him. He had begun to scavenge what he could, picking up three intact assault rifles, relevant ammo, two side arms, and three pokeballs, two of which were damaged and unusable. Whether pokemon were inside them was another question. The third was empty however, and Isaiah gave a silent shout in happiness as he shrunk the thing and pocketed it.

He stood up, about to leave when he heard leaves rustle. He turned, seeing a small blue mushroom thing partially hidden behind a tree. A tiny bit of blood seemed to be marking the crown of the shroom. Curiosity hit Isaiah and he headed over, kneeling to pick it, when he realized it was actually a pokemon. "Oh, look at you, out here alone.... You were in one of these I bet..." He motioned to one of the broken pokeballs on the ground. The ralts stared up at him, the red eyes showing under the crown of the head.

Ralts and its evolutions had a peculiar ability to sense emotions and intentions of those around them, and so this ralts knew that Isaiah wouldn't hurt her. Isaiah smiled down at the pokemon and wiped away the blood to see a moderate sized laceration that had stopped bleeding now. "Why don't you come with me, and we can get you patched up?" He offered the ralts his hand, and the ralts nuzzled it gently. Isaiah then picked up the pokemon and placed him in his hood, so that ralt's head just barely cleared the top of Isaiah's.

Just then however, all hell broke loose some yards away from him.


Isaiah had a selfish thought the moment havoc erupted. He was glad he had left the group behind minutes earlier to go scavenge. He was a good 60 yards away or so, close enough to see what was happening, far enough to not be in it. Still, he couldn't hear anything after the explosion, which had happened close enough that Isaiah now had first degree burns on his face and hands.

"What to do, what to do...." Isaiah mumbled to himself glancing about and shifting to get a view of the clearing. He could see two of the soldiers, the ones nearest him, advancing on the group. Only luck, smoke, and the positioning of himself and the trucks had kept them from noticing him thus far. "Forgive me...." Was all he said as he pulled one of the small bullpop assault rifles that had been in his backpack, the ones scavenged from the soldiers.

Isaiah slid a clip into place with a metallic click, pulled back the charging handle to load in a bullet, and pulled the trigger once, sending a bullet into the back of one soldier's head. "Ralts, teleport!" He yelled, still unable to hear, and therefore speaking far to loudly. Ralts did so, taking them some twenty yards into the forest, out of the line of sight of the soldiers.

Isaiah prepared to reenter the fray, a somewhat sadistic grin on his face. He was ready to kill them all....

Ralts shivered, hating the emotions coming from her new friend....

_{Interactions: Jackson, Raven (@A Tattooed Girl)}

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Shade relaxed when the nameless "soldier" disarmed himself, but only slightly. Even as he talked, she was already moving to strip the Regime corpses of anything useful, taking care to slit the throat of each to make sure that they were dead, though she did always position herself so that she could see the man. Ammunition was her interest; any food or medical supplies they might have had was probably burning with the trucks, and more weapons would be too bulky to be practical. Besides which, she got by well enough with her bow and rifle.

She didn’t much care if he thought it was “silly” to burn the uniform, nor did she care when he did it or whether or not he was comfortable. Until he did, she sure as hell wasn’t going to trust him. Hell, she didn’t even trust the others that much either. At least the girl had clearly been a captive, the boys she didn’t know from a hole in the ground. Trust, Shade had found, was something that was almost as valuable as food and water these days. She’d come too far to end up with another knife in her back. If that upset the others, well, they didn’t have to stick around.

Seeing the girl approaching, Shade didn’t focus on her too much, continuing to loot the corpses. When she was thanked for her help, she simply grunted noncommittally. ”Says the girl who got caught once already.” Despite her words, there was no malice behind them. ”Just be careful. People lie.” If the girl wanted to risk it, that was her choice. Shade wasn’t about to tell her what to do. It was her life.

Razor was acting oddly, keeping his gaze locked on the Electabuzz. Whatever was going on between them, Shade was smart enough to stay out of it. There was a lot that people didn’t understand about Pokemon, one of the many reasons that Shade hated the Regime. They acted as though they were above the world instead of part of it, that they could do however they pleased with no consequences. They destroyed everything in their path. People like that were little more than a disease, a dead thing that needed to be cut out.

The detonation of the fuel tank in one of the trucks masked the sound of the gunshot, but it was a reminder enough for Shade that it was time to leave. She had no desire to be captured; in all likelihood, she’d be shot as soon as somebody figured out that she was The Butcher. Hell, the only reason she’d made it this far with such freedom was because soldiers didn’t live long enough to report her face.

Then the forest started burning in other areas, and Shade decided it was really time to go. Razor was already moving, vanishing into the brush and undergrowth, and she was close behind the Sneasel. This was Shade’s element, the reason that she chose that moniker for the few times that she had to interact with people. Nobody could catch her in the forest. Knowing the terrain and being unpredictable were the keys, so when a stream of fire crossed her path, Shade went straight through it, covering her mouth with her sleeve.

As they were running, she saw Razor beginning to angle in the direction the girl and Regime guy had been heading, making her frown. What? No, Razor, what are you doing? Split up, you stupid Sharp Claw, don’t give them one big target to go after! Growling in anger, Shade changed course and headed east, to a deep ravine where she had been camped for the past couple of days, and where there were a few traps waiting for anyone stupid enough to pursue her.

It didn’t take long for the Sneasel to catch up to his targets, leaping from branch to branch with the lithe grace that his species was known for. He screeched and hissed to the Electabuzz, darting in and out of their path in a consistent direction that he wanted them to go.