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Thread: [M] Pokemon: Avarice Versus Justice! (Ashen and Headwrapper)

  1. #101
    The Moonlight Knight
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    Without any more time to spare, Clive grabbed his bag and left the hotel. He was almost surprised that it was virtually afternoon time when he stepped outside, forgetting just how long he had slept in. The sun shined down on the buildings of Saffron city, which reflected the light in kind, painted in a deep orange-yellow. Clive could smell the warmth emanating from the bricks beneath his feet as he walked, reinvigorating him as he ventured down the streets. After not much more than a few minutes of walking had he arrived at Saffron's police station.

    He was surprised to find Sabrina already standing in the center of the front lobby, idly watching an Abra, presumably hers, teleport around the room. "I knew you would arrive," she said, her voice hardly changing pitch. "You have information you wished to report."

    Could anyone get used to dealing with someone who seemed to always know what was going to happen? Clive was doubtful. He wondered how bored Sabrina's life must have been. She did mention she had some limitations when it came to seeing the future, but she still hardly seemed surprised by anything regardless. "I... do," he said carefully.

    "Detective Zain is in his office," Sabrina said, before Clive could ask the question. She turned, and started down a hallway, knowing full well that Clive would follow suit. As they walked, the Abra would teleport closer to stay near its trainer. Sabrina stopped in front of one of the closed doors, the glass window covered with a set of plastic blinds. A plaque rest on the center of the door, reading "Detective Zain Hamsine" in capital gold letters. Sabrina lightly tapped the glass, and in a few moments a man let them inside. Clive remembered him from the initial meeting he and Yulia had with Saffron force. He was dressed in nearly all black, black shoes, slacks, and button up shirt, with a red necktie. His tan face bore little facial hair other than his neatly trimmed mustache, and his medium length brown hair parted directly down the center of his head, curling off to either side. "Ah, Sabrina. Always good to see you. And Clive, I'm glad the city has not scared you away yet."

    The discussion was brief. Clive explained what he recollected from the previous day's endeavors at the warehouse, leaving out some of the details that were best left between him and his partner, mainly Clive's use of his Zorua's illusions to hide and Yulia passing out. He answered a few questions, none of which seemed to lead into much more discussion. Zain scratched his chin lightly. He had been leaning casually against the front of his desk as the trio discussed. "That is all very suspicious. We will have to get some guys on it to try to track where their vehicle was headed to. Also, find out whatever we can with what's left at that warehouse. Are you able to go with them Clive? And Sabrina-"

    "I will not go. A gym challenger will be arriving at my gym in twenty minutes. Goodbye, detectives."

    Both men watched as the gym leader left, the door seemingly shutting on its own accord. Clive used his fingers to move a length of hair away from his face as he spoke. "Does Sabrina often help the Saffron police?"

    "She has done me quite a few favors, but only of her own volition. She is ambitious, in her own way. But she does care for the city. A proud Gym Leader, that's for sure." Zain turned to take a sip from his coffee mug, then took a second one before gently placing it down and facing Clive again. "I can get some guys together. It does not sound safe to be in that warehouse alone."

    Clive spent the better part of the afternoon guiding Zain and a couple officers through the warehouse, where they searched, scanned for prints, and even collected data based on evidence of vehicle movement where Clive identified the Avarice member's vehicle was likely parked. Clive was surprised that the metal vault downstairs was nearly empty. There was definitely evidence that there was something there, but it was mostly a musty room with a few barren desks. No floating red eye to electrocute them. "We'll run the numbers and let you know what we find," Zain assured him once the collection of evidence was complete. "It's starting to get late. How about I give you a ride back to the hotel you're staying at?"

    Thanks to the help of Zain, Clive had made it back to the hotel from the warehouse quickly and without issue. He sat down on his bed, taking stock of the room as he felt around his bag for his laptop. He noticed Yulia's items had moved a bit- maybe she was ruffling through it all before she left or she had returned from her meeting and left again. Eventually deciding there was nothing else unusual about the room, Clive tapped away at his laptop. He was greeted with a few angry messages from the police chief about why he was not responding to his phone. Clive rolled his eyes.

    Sorry, phone broke during a stakeout. Will need issued a new one after the festival.

    Clive reread the email even after he responded, chuckling to himself mischievously. He could imagine what the police chief would actually be saying if they were in person, without a paper trail to bar him. I fucking give you a pretty young gal as your partner, and you repay me by running off with her to Kanto on some fucking honeymoon! At the end of the day, though, Clive did owe the chief some updates. He opened up the report Yulia had started and read through it, adding his own recounts where needed. When he was done, he refined the info in a separate report to better suit the chief's tastes, and sent him an update with a promise that he and Yulia would have a full report after the festival.

    We'll issue one up yours when you get back.

    Clive snorted upon reading the chief's reply. The man was always so belligerent when he could get away with it, but such a kiss-ass when having to speak to the public or the city council. Clive had a lot of respect for him though, remembering how hard he worked back in the day, when Clive was an orphaned teenager. The man always expressed a lot of respect for Clive's father, which also helped facilitate their relationship.

    As Clive got caught up on a few odds and ends- his emails and a few reports and notes, he thought about what he would do with the remainder of the night. He had no idea when Yulia would be returning. She was a big girl that could handle herself, or at least did not need him anyway. That left Clive with the running assumption that he'll see her when he sees her, and to plan on doing his own thing. Maybe he could better explore the "Underground" some more, using Shadow to help him interact and gain more information. Alternatively, he could put his suspicions around the night clubs to the test, but it was unlikely that would bare any fruit.

    Eventually, he settled on something other than field work entirely. He began reading through what attractions were going to be made available at the festival. A parade, plenty of food stalls and gift vendors, a battle competition, even a Pokemon beauty contest judged by some big names in the competition scene... all things Yulia would probably want to stop and enjoy, but will be too preoccupied with work to admit it. Clive wondered, would any of these events be what Avarice had their eyes on? Their motivations were not usually driven by blind violence, setting loose some kind of weapon on a crowd of people is probably not what he needed to be trying to prevent. Perhaps they were after the Pokemon being entered into the competition? Or even some of the Pokemon helping to run the festival itself?

    He ran back through his notes and collection of reports on Avarice's known thievery of Pokemon. They were not typically done on a grande scale. Usually it boiled down to overpowering or fooling a trainer or trainers, sometimes young ones, who were out on a route alone, before taking their Pokemon. A mugging, for the most part. It made Clive suspicious about the idea they would be present at the festival, but it was irrefutable that they were present in the city.

    Clive glanced back to his email upon receiving a message from Zain.
    Hello Clive,

    I tried to give your phone a call, but I forgot you mentioned you needed to replace it. Are you still at the hotel? Can you give me your room number so I can call you? We found some important information from the clues we gathered today, but I can not share those documents outside of our server.

    Thanks,

    Detective Zain Hamsine.


    A few keystrokes later, and Clive heard a ring come from the hotel's phone. "Yes this is Clive. Yes please connect that call."

    On the phone, Zain gave Clive a quick rundown of what his PD found so far with the evidence gathered from that day. They had a heading and a direction on the Avarice vehicle, which they caught on a few security cameras. They could not identify what had happened to the Pokemon Clive had seen. There were a few prints that could be found that helped identify a few suspects, but the whereabouts of those suspects was unknown. Clive wondered if they could share the identity of those suspects with Sabrina, and Zain agreed, including that if she knows the face, Sabrina usually knows the next time she will see a particular person again. The detectives then wished each other a good night and agreed to reconvene in the morning before hanging up.

    Clive stood to look out the window of the hotel room, tossing around the idea of exploring Saffron's "Underground" scene a second time. Ultimately, he decided against it. He had no phone in the case of an emergency, and it was getting rather late. In fact, he wondered if he should try to get a hold of Yulia. Immediately after the thought reached his mind, he rolled onto his bed and picked up the hotel phone, typing Yulia's number as he read it off of her information from his laptop. The call immediately skipped to voicemail. "Hey, I got shocked, what's your excuse?" he grumbled, hanging up the phone before the voicemail began recording.

    He decided there was one thing left he needed to do that night, if he was not going to go anywhere. He changed into the comfortable clothes he had been wearing as his nightwear, grabbed a cup of water, and retook his position on the bed with his laptop. He opened up the Yulia file, and began filling things in. His thoughts, the facts that he knew, facts yet to be confirmed, his suspicions. Occasionally, he would scroll back to the top of the document to look at the picture that he took. The quality of the picture was not great, but it was still unmistakable that it was Yulia. As messy as it had gotten from the day's events, her hair was still long and blue, falling behind her delicate ears and her small shoulders. Clive would realize he was not going to find any new information just by staring at the picture, and would go back to outlining his thoughts. More than once, he would pick up the phone again to give his partner a ring, failing to reach her every time. Eventually, he was out of updates for his file, and was simply looking over the picture again as he tried to decide what to do next.

    "I should just go to bed," he told himself. He'd start to think about the Avarice file, and the Uncle Richie file, but he could not seem to hold the thoughts straight. After a while he would give up and look at the Yulia file again, wanting to add more to it but realizing there was nothing more to add yet. Where the hell was she?

    Suddenly, he heard the door unlock and open. He almost did not recognize Yulia when she stepped into the room, but like the picture, it was unmistakably her. Clive's eyes almost rolled out of his head trying to find a proper place to be, and after a few quick glances at his partner and realizing exactly why she looked so different, he sunk down behind his laptop screen, his gaze back to the screen. "Welcome... welcome back," he managed, clearing his throat halfway through. He pressed a couple keys to save his document, before hitting a different combination to close it, and then clicked to open his emails. "Been doing some field work?"
    Last edited by Headwrapper; 08-05-2020 at 04:31 PM.

  2. #102
    The Ashen One
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    Yulia found both amusement and embarrassment to Clive’s reaction to her presence. As she closed the door behind her, a smirk crawled onto her lips. Had she flustered her old partner? The alcohol widened her smile, and a cruel idea to toy with him crossed her mind, but she still had the sense to dismiss it. After this whole trip, leading her partner on was the last thing she needed, even if, in the moment, she could think of nothing funnier. But doing so now would only hurt her career, and as drunk as she might have been, she knew stopping Avarice always came first.

    She turned to greet him with a less malicious smile. “You could say that.” She hated how the words passed her lips: lowly, tauntingly, unprofessional. They weren’t slurred anymore, but did that make things better or worse? As she stood there, she struggled to find something to say: I learned about several Pokemon kidnappings; some Avarice grunts made trouble at one of the bars I went to, and the bartender had some interesting things to say; a suspected grunt stopped showing at one of the clubs about a month ago—but as she remembered the conversations she’d had that night, they all blurred together. “I’ll update the file with all my findings tomorrow,” she promised instead, a cop-out.

    She moved to her bed, where she found her bag spilled open and her clothes pouring onto the sheets. She glanced towards Clive; had she left it like this, or had he gone through her stuff? If he had, she realized, he wouldn’t have left things so messy. She almost felt guilty for mentally accusing him, but her mind wandered back to the previous night, to the picture he’d taken of her. Yulia swallowed the lump in her throat. Even if he had gone through her bag, he wouldn’t have found anything incriminating, save for the cigarettes and aspirin, two habits he knew his partner couldn’t kick. Sighing, she shoved her clothes back into her bag and set her pajamas beside her.

    Without thinking, she shouldered out of her dress. As she reached for the tank top she’d just set aside, her arms brushed against the bare skin of her chest. Her scarf. She’d been using her scarf to keep herself modest, and though she remembered taking it off at some point during the night, she couldn’t remember where she had placed it. “Luna would kill me,” she mumbled to herself, tossing around the contents of her bag in search of it. Only after she’d turned her bag inside-out did she realize her scarf had been the only thing keeping her modest. With her dress pooled around her ankles, she was topless.

    Dark eyes slowly rising to meet the man at the opposite end of the room, Yulia quickly pulled her tank top over her head and swiftly turned away. She was caught between apologizing and pretending it hadn’t happened. Had he even noticed? She pulled on her shorts and sat on her bed, amidst the contents of her bag. Pull yourself together, Yulia. She awkwardly cleared her throat, and her fingers reached for the square box now lying on her bed. She pulled it open, but there was only one left. She never did replace them like she’d meant to.

    She ventured a glance towards him. If his expression was different, she was too drunk to notice. “Did you read my report?” she asked, trying to fill the awkward silence. She reached for her phone but, finding the battery dead, she plugged it into the wall. “I had updated it after the interview, but I had left some areas for you. I’d also like to add some details about the things I’ve heard tonight, as well as…” Her voice trailed as her phone blinked to life, and notifications flooded her screen. Clive had called her? She shifted awkwardly. “I’m sorry, my phone was dead.” Her face went a shade darker. She looked at him again, checked for any sign of irritation. It couldn’t have been an emergency… right?

    Yulia also noticed the notifications for the report’s updates, and she realized how stupid she was for telling her partner what he’d already read. A text from an unknown number pulled her attention; had she given her number to the girl at the bar? Scolding herself, she set her phone down and looked back to Clive. “Sorry,” she mumbled again, “how was your day?”

    She’d listen to him talk, feeling only partially guilty that her partner had been hard at work while she’d been embracing the nightlife. When he finished speaking, she’d excuse herself to the bathroom, where she’d wipe the paint from her face and prepare for bed. She threw her bag and its contents onto the floor, another problem for tomorrow’s Yulia, and she got comfortable in bed. She turned, watching Clive for a few moments, wondering what he was thinking about her. Did he have regrets? “Mr. Oiler,” she murmured, tasting the name she hadn’t used in so long. “Clive.” Her gaze was faraway. She couldn’t tell what was keeping her speaking: alcohol? A childish need to right things with her partner? Something else entirely?

    She sighed softly. “What does this mean to you?” Her eyes fluttered shut, but she continued. “Have I ever asked you? I can tell you want to succeed almost as much as I do, but… why? Why is Avarice so important to you?” In the dark, with her eyes closed, she looked like she was already asleep. If she let herself, she could drift off easily now, helped by her long night out. But she waited, wondering if they had similar stakes in this. If he just wanted to prove himself—and hell, didn’t she, too?
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  3. #103
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    Clive raised an eyebrow at Yulia's response to his question, although he did not dare look away from his computer. Whatever expression he had on his face would not do him any favors, he knew, and it was clear to him there was still some alcohol left in his partner's system. The less Clive spoke, the less interaction he would need to have with a not-so-sober Yulia who would be likely to embarrass the both of them somehow. The more senior detective certainly did not care to bother having to work around that, so the less discussion they would have while Yulia got settled, the better.

    His mind went back to his previous thoughts, the slight worry that troubled him when he could not get a hold of Yulia. He felt silly for how relieved he was that she was back, but at the same time, it was irresponsible of her to be out drinking alone in an unfamiliar city. Of course there was plenty of information to be found out there during the night, Clive was familiar with that notion, but Yulia was... well, there was a lot more that could go wrong for her if she ran into trouble. A pretty young girl like her could always potentially attract unsavory attention, and Yulia had the added weakness of... randomly passing the hell out.

    Given there was little warning, Clive was surprised when he saw Yulia shed her dress casually in his peripheral vision. He tilted his head slightly to confirm what he thought he saw, and once he did he rolled his eyes before looking back to his screen. He attributed his partner's casualness to the fact that she was still somewhat intoxicated, although he was not too sure after considering that it was not the first time he had seen her in such a familiar way. Maybe it was a weird Kalos thing. Regardless of what it was, Clive chose to let it go and continued focusing his attention at organizing the last messages he had received on his computer. After a few moments, Yulia began to stir some conversation.

    When there was a sudden break in Yulia's prattling, Clive briefly looked up, noting that her phone was now spurring back to life. "It's fine. I used some of your report to put together my update for the chief. I went back to the warehouse with the lead detective from Saffron. We might be able to ID some people off their prints, but that's about it. Once they're ID'd Sabrina might be able to foresee the next time she will see them, which could prove useful if they are going to be part of the festival plans."

    After Yulia vanished into the bathroom, Clive shutdown his computer and stowed it away in his messenger back. He stretched a little before settling down and getting comfortable, laying his head back on his nest of pillows and closing his eyes. Of course, he needed to put his files to bed before he could sleep himself, and he began his nightly ritual as he laid. He stopped on the Yulia file, thinking back on their previous night. Clive would have to figure out more about this "curse". He of course thought there was merit to the legend of Ninetales, but was it true that Yulia really was cursed? Did it even matter? There was still something... something else that did not add up, Clive thought. Something about Yulia that he felt would reveal something that needed to be brought to light. It was just a hunch for now though, brought about by Yulia's effective confession that there was more to her story that put them both in danger.

    Before Clive even knew it, his partner was back in the room. A few silent moments passed by as Clive laid with his eyes closed, broken once again by Yulia. Clive opened his eyes and turned slightly to face his partner, at first to correct her for the "Mr. Oiler" thing again, but then holding back when she seemed to correct herself. She then posed an interesting question. Why was Clive driven to hunt down Avarice?

    Clive stared at his partner's gentle face, softened by the promise of sleep, which lingered just barely out of reach for both of them as it patiently waited to take them both. "I just lock up bad guys, Yulia," he said with unusual brevity. "That's what I do. I don't need another reason." He frowned subconsciously as he turned back to his original position and closing his eyes again.

    Suddenly, he straightened up somewhat, not quite sitting up but not completely laying down like he was before either. He looked out into the dark, in a space somewhere between him and Yulia, avoiding looking at his partner entirely. "That's all I do. I don't do... this." He waved his hand between him and his partner. "I don't know what the chief was thinking with giving me a partner, a rookie even. I can't do it right. It's not how I operate. I keep saying it doesn't matter and that I don't care, but it's not true. I keep worrying, wondering, obsessing. It's already in my nature to compulsively think about my work, and now one subject is not just some person out there in the world, it's a person who is right in front of me that I interact with every day. It becomes even more complex and... I don't know."

  4. #104
    The Ashen One
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    The answer to her question was as concise and lifeless as she should have expected, but a part of its bluntness stung her, as if her assumption that he had any stakes in this was ridiculous. Why had they been paired up? If it was just another job to him, how would she ever compare when the only reason she was even here, had pushed through the Academy and past her limitations, was to stop this? Yulia swallowed the lump welling in her throat. She felt stupid for asking him anything at all, and now she was painfully aware of their differences stretching between them, stark and startling. After everything that had happened, everything that was still happening, maybe she had been wrong to think they were a good fit for each other, even for a second.

    She opened her mouth to fill the silence, but then Clive was talking again, mindlessly reminding her of her place. She didn’t know what kept him talking, but his reminder that she did not belong here, with him, settled deep in her stomach. She had been the one to invade his space, his work, come fresh out of the Academy with no experience and too much pep, waltzing into his office and demanding a mentor when he’d had no intentions of being one. She wanted to speak, to fill this silence now settling around them, but her words had escaped her, leaving only guilt in their wake. She opened her eyes to look at him, the cold detective she’d met so long ago, the only man she had ever trusted with her life. Would he be better off without her?

    “But… you do do it right.” Her voice was quiet, surprising, but her confidence built up the longer she spoke. “Maybe it is just a job for you, but I can tell you care about this, and that you’ll stop at nothing to catch these bad guys and save the world from Avarice’s dumb mission. And you don’t need a partner, I know that, you’ve worked so long without one, so well, and I just make things harder, but… I’ve enjoyed working with you, Clive. I’ve enjoyed our time together. Maybe that’s cheap, saying that now, after everything, but…” Her gaze fell, and a small smile fell onto her lips. “Do you know how scared I was? My parents never wanted me to work with cops, putting my life in danger and traveling the world, people where I’m from don’t shoot that high, but then I made it into the Academy and I graduated from it and they assigned me to you, and I just wanted you to like me, and to trust me, the way all the legendary crime-fighting duos do, and I never thought we’d get there because you hated me from the start, but then we developed something, we had something, and you even trusted me enough to come all the way out to Saffron, even if I didn’t have physical evidence, but you trusted me and I trusted you to protect me, and I thought you a friend, and… Disregarding everything I’ve already ruined, I think… I think what we had was right. I think you were doing it right.”

    When she finished her speech, her eyes rose to find Clive’s, and roses scattered across her cheeks. “I think you should give yourself more credit,” she added, more quietly. “It’s not what you’re comfortable with, nor what you’re used to, but I think we work well together. I think—no, I know we will bring down Avarice together. And after that, if you… if you want to go back to how things were, go back to not having a partner, then…” She sighed and closed her eyes again. Yulia knew she was talking far too much, giving Clive all of the praise he did not ask for and likely did not want. She shut her mouth and rolled onto her back. “Sorry,” she whispered. “We should… get some rest.”
    Last edited by Ashen; 10-27-2020 at 08:18 AM.
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  5. #105
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    As Yulia spoke, identifying some of the highlights of her partnership with Clive, the more senior detective couldn't help but sit up straight, crossing his legs in the process. Clive's tilted his head slightly as he listened attentively to his partner's words, watching her carefully all the while. A part of him was elated to hear that Yulia valued the time so highly, and how greatly she valued Clive's trust. Another part of him, a more pessimistic part, reminded him that Yulia was always excessive about such things, and that her passionate oration could very well be her exaggerated, slightly inebriated, recollection of it all. Even so, Clive could not help but sit and mull over her partner's words, almost as if he was in disbelief.

    They made eye contact, the whites of their eyes marginally visible in the darkness. After a moment, Clive, turned his gaze back to the abyss he was staring at before, letting Yulia continue on. Eventually, her tune was sung, but even then Clive continued to sit for a while. "There is something that I want out of this. Something from Avarice," he eventually said. "Despite my reputation, I needed to pull some strings to get the case. It was hard work, risky too, with all of the lies I needed to tell. It took an unbelievable number of sleepless nights to put my preceding cases to bed so that I could tackle this one full time. I thought I would have the case all to myself then, but then... well, it just didn't last long."

    He glanced over to his partner briefly, unsure if she was still awake or not. Either way, Clive felt the call to sleep begin to overwhelm him, and so he complied, falling asleep promptly after his head hit the pillow.



    Clive awoke early the next morning, finding the room still mostly dark when he did. He knew that there was no chance he had enough sleep, and to that end, remained in bed in an attempt to regain his slumber. Every few minutes he turned, chasing a nonexistent portal that would return him to his dreams, until finally settling for a position on his side, facing Yulia. After laying in the dark for so long, Clive's eyes were well-adjusted to it, and he could make out Yulia's figure on the bed. She had shifted a little from the position he had last scene her in, but otherwise appeared sound asleep. Behind the lamp that sat on one of the nightstands between them, he could catch a glimpse of Yulia's sleeping facade. Clive always found it strange to see someone's face when they were asleep. He was so accustomed to searching for and memorizing the expressions on faces that when those same facial muscles sat dormant, unburdened, they seemed to adopt an entirely different identity. They no longer conveyed a dynamic image that at any moment could betray a fleeting emotion. They remained rested, dormant, acting simply as the cover of a closed book.

    He watched Yulia's body rise and fall with her breathing, doing so for only a few repetitions before finally sitting up in his bed. The prospect of falling back to sleep was unattainable. He stood up tiredly, and groggily grabbed a few things before disappearing into the bathroom. After a short time he reemerged, making his way back to his things and grabbing his laptop from where he had left it. He spent some time checking on things, catching up on some of the GRPD field reports from the previous night, emails, and the like. The room had turned blue as light began to encroach on the sky's canvas, beckoning the morning to come.

    Clive decided to take a short break before it would be time to get into more serious endeavors. This would be their last day before the festival, meaning that there would only be enough time to make certain preparations. There might not be enough time to do everything, which meant they would have to quickly decide on what was important, and maybe even solicit the support from the likes of Zain and Sabrina. Clive continued to mull over these thoughts as he left the hotel, making his way to the first coffee shop he could find without the assistance of his long destroyed phone. He noticed the barista's eyebrow twitch slightly when he ordered a medium hot chocolate, before resolving herself to punching in the rest of the order.

    After his short stroll, Clive returned to the hotel. He placed Yulia's coffee on her nightstand, paired with a pastry wrapped in a thin, brown paper bag, and then returned to the spot on his bed he used to work. He rolled his eyes at the Chief's email. "Sending someone on the train with a new phone." At least Clive did not need to expend too much effort replacing the phone himself, he thought as he started to quickly pull up files onto his screen. Soon afterward, he started scanning through his notes that chronicled the Saffron adventures so far, in anticipation of putting together the day's game plan.

  6. #106
    The Ashen One
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    Yulia had been awake while Clive continued to speak, and his words settled around her. She found herself with only more questions. What could be so important to him about this that he would work so hard just to get the case? And if he had wanted it alone, what did that mean for her? A new fear encroached on her, wrapping around her throat, and as she wondered what would happen upon their mission's completion, she found herself unable to breathe.

    By the time she'd composed herself, the room was still, silent. She was just overthinking. Whatever stakes Clive had in this, it was his secret to keep, just as she had hers.

    ~~~

    No sooner had she opened her eyes than a blinding headache caused her to sit up, mumbling a swear. Yulia was still, getting used to the new pressure in her head. She glanced to the other bed, where she found Clive already at work for the day. Had she overslept? The aroma of coffee wafted through the room, warm and welcoming, enough to make her crave a cup. As she reached for the phone on her nightstand, she noticed the cup and delicately wrapped pastry left for her. A favor returned.

    She felt ill. Had she gotten drunk? Why? Yulia struggled to remember what had happened the previous night, but memories only crawled back to her, slowly and painfully. She absently reached for a purse out of reach, for the painkillers and cigarettes that would soothe this mess. Remembering where she was, she figured the coffee would have to do instead.

    She grabbed it from the nightstand and took a long sip. The liquid was still hot, with a hint of sweetness she hoped would satiate the effects of her foolishness. She turned back to Clive. "Good morn--" Yulia stopped herself, eyes glancing towards her phone and confirming the time. "Morning," she finished. At least she hadn't slept too late. "I appreciate the breakfast." Had he anticipated her hangover? Regardless, it was a thoughtful gesture. She ripped a piece of the pastry and savored the fluffy crust. Even after everything she'd done last night, he was still being nice to her. Maybe this wasn't such a lost cause.

    Yulia grabbed for her laptop and monitored the two dozen tabs she had opened. Her inbox was flooded with equal parts work and spam, and she started by sifting through that. She then went to the report, the one she vaguely remembered telling Clive she'd update last night. She had been investigating, but she remembered so little that she doubted anything would be useful. Muttering another swear, she reached for her phone and scrolled through the many notifications there. New texts, a missed call from an unknown number, even several alerts from an app she didn't remember installing... She sighed. Now it was time to pick up the pieces and get back on track.

    She and Clive had talked. She remembered that, their heart-to-heart in the darkness, how she'd rambled about... something. And how he'd shared his insecurities about his job. A new side of him. Her partner had finally opened up to her, and she wasn't even sober enough to remember the details. She shook her head, then added what little she could to the report. It wasn't much, but it might give them some kind of lead tomorrow--

    Tomorrow. Yulia hadn't realized how quickly the festival had snuck up on them. There was still so much to do, so many phone calls to make, authorities to alert, backup to schedule, just in case. Unless Clive had already done those things. Had he been up long? She glanced towards him again. Not wanting to mention last night, especially not the lingering questions she still had and the secret she still wanted to know, Yulia cleared her throat. "What have you been up to?" she asked, already pulling her laptop into her lap and opening a new tab to create an itinerary. Even with her headache, she vowed she'd work hard today. She didn't know just what had happened yesterday, but she couldn't forgive herself for letting so many details escape her, or for getting drunk in the first place. Besides, she thought wistfully, if they got enough done today, and if everything went according to plan tomorrow... Maybe the two of them would be able to enjoy just a bit of the festival together.
    Thanks to Craze for the beautiful Bravely set!

    ~Recruitment Thread~
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  7. #107
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    "Don't mention it. I should have thought to bring you something with more electrolytes in it, but I'm sure you'll manage." Clive briefly glanced over his screen for only a brief moment before returning to his notes. Before Yulia had awakened, Clive was able to get a hold of Zain. The Saffron detective had organized the findings from the previous day's exploration of the warehouse in preparation to meet with Sabrina. With the assistance of her psychic powers, they could predict the next interaction with the suspicious persons and deal with them appropriately. All that was needed was to familiarize Sabrina with the images found from the street camera and other information that was identified from suspect's prints.

    He explained as much to Yulia when she asked him what he had been up to. There was a brief moment of silence as he finished off the last little bit of his hot chocolate, the warm chocolate blanketing his tongue with its sweetness. "Today is not a day for investigation," he concluded aloud. "We need to dedicate today to doing what we can to keep innocent people safe. If the local Avarice grunts we have identified are planning to reveal themselves at the festival, Sabrina might be able to tip us off. That doesn't mean everything is completely safe though, does it? We need to discuss what we know with the event organizers, advise them about what to do to try to make the event as safe as possible. After all, no one knows more about how Avarice presents itself than us, believe it or not."

    There was a gentle thud after he closed his laptop. With an almost youthful rigor, Clive leapt out of bed and stowed the computer away into his bag. "We'll also have to do the same with the security detail that the Saffron police has put together for the event. We'll need to get our arms around what risks are there. We know they're bold enough they might go after tourney or contest winners, knowing that they could kidnap the most well-trained Pokemon and making their efforts worth the while. We also know they are clever enough to potentially nab Pokemon or trainers that are out of the spotlight too- sacrificing what they perceive as quality to gain a low-risk reward. Predicting when and where these things could happen at such a large event... It's a challenge, but we'll have to do the best we can with all of the information we know."

    Clive slung his bag over his shoulder, and casually sauntered towards the doorway. His movement was light and silent as he nearly floated across the room. "I need to run off. The Chief sent someone with a replacement phone. Just need to meet them at the magnet train station and then attend to our appointments. Want me to wait for you to get ready or should we just meet up later?" His words came out casually, betraying no concern, even over the last few days events.

  8. #108
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    Yulia listened attentively as Clive outlined what was left of their responsibilities before the festival. She jotted a few things down into notes on her phone so she wouldn't forget any detail. She nodded occasionally and chimed in here and there with the people she could contact. As he continued, she sifted through the contacts on her phone to find the woman who had gotten her in contact with the vendor she'd met with yesterday. She could likely contact other vendors through her, so she made a note to call her soon. She also made notes to touch base with the local police department, with celebrities that would be attending, and with any other authority figure that came to her mind. Finally, when Clive finished speaking and Yulia finished writing, she looked to him, only to see that he was getting ready to leave. To answer his question, she looked back to her notes, pausing a moment in thought.

    "You can go on ahead," she decided. "If you can get in touch with the security for the festival through the PD, I can get in touch with the locals, the vendors and maybe some regulars, and between us we can warn enough people so that people will be aware without being sent into a panic." She figured Clive would want to meet with the least amount of people personally, so as she crossed out names on her note sheet and wrote Y's and C's next to each task, she gave herself more of the social work. She didn't mind it as much as he did, an after wasting most of yesterday, she had to make it up to him. She nodded to herself. "It's important not to create too much of a panic. Don't want everyone to be so wary that Avarice catches on. Then they might not do anything at all, and our entire mission here is bust." After everything that had happened in this city, she couldn't imagine it all being for nothing.

    She told him to text her from his new phone when he could, and like that, he was off. Yulia got to work scheduling impromptu meetings with event directors, contest winners, famous battlers, telling them all to be wary but not panicked, to trust in the authorities, and to report any suspicious behavior. She had gotten through her list in only a couple hours, and afterwards, she returned to the hotel to wait for Clive. While there, she brought up an online map of the festival grounds and previous years' pictures of the layout. She wondered where a grunt might be able to hide, or where a person might go missing without anyone noticing. The thought sent a familiar shiver down her spine, but she had to bite it back. She had a job to do, and the people of Saffron City--of the world--were relying on her.

    By the time Clive would return, he'd find all her tasks already completed and an annotated map sent to his email. Still late afternoon, Yulia thought they might visit the festival grounds, to check out the locations she'd circled and commented on while people were still setting up, if Clive had also finished his calls and meetings for the day. Despite the severity of her work, and how she knew she wasn't here for fun, an excitement bubbled within her at the thought of going to this festival, even if it hadn't yet started, even if there wasn't much to see yet. She shook her head, willing her excitement away. There would be a time for that after​ Avarice's festival plans were foiled.
    Thanks to Craze for the beautiful Bravely set!

    ~Recruitment Thread~
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  9. #109
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    Clive adjusted his bag on his shoulder as Yulia offered her parting words. "Right. Talk to you later then." Without any more delay, the detective turned and left the hotel. It was time to get down to business.

    The detective's Umbreon accompanied him as he walked towards the magnet train station on the north side of the city. Even though it was still technically morning, the streets were rich with all kinds of foot traffic: walking commuters, street vendors, deliverers, and many Pokemon accompanying them. "What do you think Umbreon? Everyone seems to be excited about the festivities." Clive huffed a single laugh when his Umbreon simply turned his head in response, and moved to start walking on the other side of its trainer. Clive was quick to determine why, at the sight of the fighting-type Pokemon and their trainers training loudly outside of a dojo they walked passed. Aside from the obvious fighting versus dark type mismatch, Clive was well aware that his Umbreon was not a fan of the brutish grunts and shouts that typically accompanied martial arts training.

    The train station soon came into view, and the pair hurried to enter. It did not take long to figure out which train came from Goldenrod, and Clive made his way over. A younger woman expeditiously approached him. She was the one sent by the chief, and she quickly handed Clive a blazing red device, the screen completely black. The train back to Goldenrod was leaving soon and the woman needed to hurry back to attend to other errands for the chief, she had explained over her the loosely fitting red frames of her glasses. Clive nodded and watched her leave, unable to help but think about when Yulia gets flustered or talks too much.

    Clive lowered himself on an empty bench, his Pokemon hopping up beside him so they could both get a better view of the new device. "Did it have to be red? Black would have been better." Clive grumbled quietly to himself as he turned the phone over a few times. Aimlessly, he began pressing buttons in hopes of turning the thing on. "Did they even bother to charge this damn thing?" The man sighed loudly as he sat up, leaning back against the bench. Suddenly, he felt the phone slide out of his hand. He swung to snatch it, but it was not falling down to his feet like he thought it was. Rather, it was floating squarely in front of him, and two blue ovals appeared on the screen.

    Was this kind of a trick? Maybe a prank from a ghost Pokemon? It seemed unlikely in broad daylight. Before Clive could think on it more, a high, robotic voice sounded from the phone.

    "I'm up! I'm up! Rotom Phone at your service, Mr. Clive Oiler! Thank you for choosing me as your new trusted Rotom Tech companion! Now, I would just need some basic information to begin set up! Is C-L-I-V-E O-I-L-E-R the proper way to spell your name? Would you like me to use a nickname? My algorithms can recommend you one if you would like?"

    As the phone rambled on, Clive and Umbreon exchanged a glance, before Clive snatched the phone out of the air. "Weird, I didn't know Rotom even appeared anywhere in Johto. Don't worry little guy, we'll get you somewhere safe so they can find you a different device to possess. How does a nice washing machine sound? Maybe a fan?"

    "No no no!" The phonesuddenly wriggled itself free from Clive and floated in front of him. The blue ovals, its eyes, were now on the back of the phone and not on the screen. Even through their robotic style, it was easy to see the Pokemon within the phone was distraught. "Clive Oiler, sir, I am a specially trained Rotom serving to help you get the most value out of your device! I even have the invoice and a copy of the receipt from when this phone was purchased." Still floating, the device spun around to show Clive the screen and scroll through the aforementioned documents. "Now please, let's set up your device! I promise I will do all I can to be helpful!"

    Clive stopped walking, and his mouth hung open slightly as he looked at the phone in front of him. "Um, well jeez... When you put it like that... We better get you sent back to Goldenrod ASAP! Sorry, but I don't think I need another Pokemon on my team right now. Besides, your kind of technology is way out of my league. I'm used to the old fashioned stuff, like the Pokegear? You know the ones that take the different cards?"

    "O-oh..." The Rotom's eyes peered down towards the ground below, before gently floating back into Clive's hand. "Okay, Mr. Clive Oiler, sir."

    Clive felt bad, seeing the Rotom be disappointed, but it would be better off with someone who would appreciate the technology. Besides, it was not his fault HQ sent him a newfangled device he had no say in choosing. He drew a sharp breath, steeling himself. "I'm sure you'll make a fantastic friend for another trainer! Heck, I bet anyone back at the police department back home would want a brand new Rotom Phone at their side while doing detective work!"

    "Thank you, Mr. Clive Oiler, sir."

    "Here, let's just put you in a nice, cozy spot in my bag, and we'll get you squared away as soon as I'm done with today's work." Clive reached to unzip his bag as he walked, halting suddenly when he realized his Umbreon was resting on its haunches right in front of him. "What?" Clive asked, returning his Umbreon's cool, knowing stare. After a few seconds of their silent face off, Clive shook his head. He clasped the phone between both hands and leaned forward to whisper towards Umbreon. "You know we can't. I don't want some stupid fancy phone. Besides, surely having a talking phone is some kind of security risk." Another long, silent moment passed, with Umbreon continuing to defiantly stare at Clive. "Umbreon, are you kidding me?" Clive whispered. Once again, his Pokemon did not waver.

    The detective sighed loudly in annoyance, before glancing down and removing his top hand from the phone. "It's Clive."

    "What was that, Mr. Clive Oiler, sir?" the phone called back in its metallic voice.

    "For the nickname. Just set it to Clive."

    Clive worked with his new Rotom to set up his new phone as he walked towards his rendezvous point with Zain. In truth, it was pretty convenient to be able to just tell his phone what to do while he was preoccupied with other things, but that did not mean there were not some missed translations along the way. Each time Clive got confused with the set up, or Rotom said something annoying, the detective would shoot his Umbreon an angry glance. The Umbreon would peel its face back in a toothy smile, almost as if it was about to sneeze, in response.

    Eventually, Yulia would receive a message from Clive's number: "GOT MY NEW PHONE AND AM READY FOR ALL KINDS OF FUN ADVENTURES!!!!" It would quickly be followed with a "That was not me, it was my phone. Long story, you'll see later."

    Later that afternoon, Clive would return to the hotel room. Umbreon was back in his Pokeball, and even Rotom was secured in the detective's pocket. Although there was still some daylight to burn yet, Clive felt accomplished in that the day's tasks were done on his end. If everyone followed through with their promises, the festival would be relatively secure, even if Avarice decided to make an appearance. In fact, it was likely they would make an appearance, if Sabrina's intuition was worth its reputation. The psychic predicted that the two grunts that had been identified were targeting the Pokemon at the "Little Cup" being hosted for the youngest trainers and their Pokemon. A very lowly and unrewarding goal, Clive had thought. He wondered if Avarice was merely looking for mere numbers and not quality of the Pokemon they were stealing this time around.

    Upon finding Yulia, Clive would explain such thoughts as he laid out on his bed for a short rest.

  10. #110
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    Yulia had been thumbing through emails on her phone when she saw a notification scroll from the top of her screen. She glanced at the message preview, all caps, full of enthusiasm, before she noticed the name of its sender. "Huh?" she said aloud. Her emails already forgotten, she tapped the preview and studied the message she had just received. It was from Clive, but the grammar, the exclamation points, the elation; this couldn't have been from her stick in the mud partner. She had to wonder if someone was playing a prank on her, but why? Another message came in a moment later, much more Clive-like, but it shed no light on the previous one. Yulia raised a brow, wondering what her partner could possibly mean. His phone...? With a giggle and a shake of her head, she returned to her emails, eager with questions for when she saw Clive again.

    Later, back at the hotel, Yulia glanced up when the door opened and smiled her acknowledgement at Cilve. "Good afternoon!" she greeted, chipper as always. She listened to him tell her about Sabrina's predictions, about Avarice's intentions of harassing the young trainers during the Little Cup battles, and they shared their disgust at the organization not past stealing from small children. They agreed to scout the arena, and Yulia ensured that Clive had already arranged for some officers to be stationed there come tomorrow. Once they finished sharing their hypotheses and plans, Yulia set her laptop down and turned to face Clive more fully. With a raised brow, she asked, "So, what kind of phone did they send you?"

    Before Clive could answer her, the phone seemed to come alive all on its own. It leapt from his pocket and levitated between them, smiling and chirping. Yulia took one look at his new phone before bursting into laughter. She tried to cover her mouth, tried to apologize for how rude she was being, but she couldn't help herself. "They sent you a Rotom phone?" She looked at the thing again, the downtrodden expression of the Pokemon in the phone, and she tried to straighten herself. Her partner, the old-fashioned veteran detective, the stubborn old geezer in a young man's body; what would he do with such a new-age contraption? The thought caused another giggle to bubble from her throat. After a few moments, she cleared her throat and averted her gaze. "I'm sorry," she finally mumbled, though a smile was still planted across her lips. "I'm sorry," she said again. "It's just, you... a Rotom phone..." She tried once more to clear her throat. "Right."

    She looked back to the papers strewn across her bed. Before she could start laughing again, she took some into her hands and read over the notes she'd made, the places she'd circled on the map she'd printed. "Are you set to head out?" she asked, referring to the festival grounds. She showed him the map, identical to the one she'd emailed him. Grabbing a pen, she jotted down a few more notes around the Little Cup arena. "Do you mind if we stop for some coffee first?" she asked. She got up and grabbed her purse. She caught sight of the Rotom phone again and, as laughter threatened to come out again, she motioned towards the door. "After you."

    As they prepared to leave, Yulia's thoughts wandered to their last stakeout. She'd just near ruined that, all because of her dumb condition. Her headache was still numbly drumming, and she felt groggy, but these were the effects of a night poorly spent, not a threat to her mission. Would Clive believe her if she told him as much? She tried not to think about it, to forget about the warehouse and focus instead on the fairgrounds, on the things to look out for today. They would likely not find anything new, nothing to put them in danger again, but a part of her still wondered, still worried, and she had to shake her thoughts free. Soon this mission would be over, and they would both be able to take comfort in all the people and Pokemon they'd have saved.
    Thanks to Craze for the beautiful Bravely set!

    ~Recruitment Thread~
    Spoiler: Ashen's Personal Hall of Fame 

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