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Post by Masatatsu Kazeyoshi on Apr 2, 2014 8:37:01 GMT -6
"with your help my hope is rising, it's overflowing" now, i'm nothing, but when i'm with you i fly "we can make it through this night" if we connect
Main plot: First person to reply gets //almost// run over by a motorcycle. They confront and have a pokemon battle. The rest can be improvised. ^^
With a roar, his motorbike purred loudly as he sped eighty-five miles per hour through the tunnels without a care. As long as he was on his bike and riding fast, he was the most content as he could be. His pokemon would sometimes get out and run or fly with him, but this time they stayed in their pokeballs to make sure that they didn't get lost or separated in these dark tunnels. The headlights on Masatatsu's motorcycle lit up the dark tunnel in strongly contrasting bright light, just enough for him to see incoming turns and maneuver expertly around them. He didn't care either that the course he took led him toward or away from any such exit. He just wanted to ride freely for as long as he could.
Masatatsu turned a couple more corners, his bike probably sending terrific thunderous roaring echoes down every tunnel in the darkness. Seeing that the tunnal that lay before him went a long ways, he kicked his gears into over drive and began pressing hard on the gas. After reaching a maximum speed of 100 miles per hour, he quickly slowed down in order to expertly turn a slight corner, but suddenly had to swerve in order to not hit someone who was there before the turn. Masatatsu skidded his bike to a halt after spinning around to see who it was that he almost hit. In a slightly annoyed voice, he shouted out at the stranger, "What are you doing? Why didn't you move out of the way!?"
ooc//let's roleplay 
words//259
tags//anyone |
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Post by Will Ryan on Apr 4, 2014 2:28:28 GMT -6
Every day one faces a choice. Imagine a crossroad where there were anywhere from two or two dozen paths to take. Each individual direction then branched off into even more. Some collided to a similar path, sometimes the same, while others diverged completely off a set course. One step could determine if another path unseen previously opened. One step could also burn down a previous path or block off any other way but further. There were times when a person wasn't even certain that the step they took could even be defined as the progress they wanted. Who knew that a path taken so long ago would have such far reaching pitfalls? Will was a young man that was used to things not going as planned, but this?
Three weeks. Twenty one days. He noticed one of his accounts being tapped for money after the first day and locked it down immediately. Day two had him receive a warning from an unknown number. Even if he was savvy enough with a dex and networking, it would have been impossible to trace. Ten days of playing along. It was a shame his so called "boss" was such a simpleton. So cocky and sure of himself. As if he thought of everything. He may as well tried to tie up a Gyarados with tissue and expect it not to go on a rampage. At first he thought that it was another Besser agent out for revenge. A revenge that was far too little too late. Perhaps some idiot with illusions of grandeur looking to make a name for himself. Odd that he would pick out a breeder that stuck to the shadows. A young man that hid behind false names even when researchers poked and prodded for more information behind current theories.
The guy had slipped and fell on his face before he even crossed the starting line. Every name he had came with it's own area, own backstory. The general area was narrowed down. Threats made against him pinpointed where others might be lurking. Find them and backtrack. Slow and steady, the town comes into view. Six out of those ten days. On the seventh a monster started prowling. Three lackeys came face to face with something more terrifying than any ghost type. But there is always a slip. No plan survives contact with the enemy and that is why more than one is needed. One the tenth someone noticed something strange in the air. A miasma of fear and a stench of death. The so called "boss" ran when he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. When the gooseflesh never settled even when he was supposed to be somewhere save. He wasn't dumb enough to ignore it. Especially when the man he thought he was dealing with was nothing more than a trail of lies.
Will couldn't deny that he loved a hunt. Over the course of six days he followed close, but never too close. Watching while hidden. Backing off bit by bit until a single man settled well away from people, having separated in hopes that Will would be thrown off. Day seventeen trailed off into nothing and the man relax. Then on the eighteenth, Will started terrorizing him. The tunnels of yami made it almost too easy. It was fitting that he would come here to hide, but Will wasn't an army and he most certainly didn't play fair. So when he did finally grow bored...The young man bled him dry of information as well as blood. No one heard him scream. Nothing throughout that entire ordeal had disturbed him. However, the breeder would admit that he felt more tired now than he had in a long time.
"Another war." He was supposed to be done with this. Will was tired of being caught in the crossfire. These people didn't like "loose ends" and he was a that and a wild card. They wanted him to choose a side. Gijinka or human, there was no in between. No one sat on a fence and hoped for it to blow over. If you weren't with one you merely made yourself two enemies. So with the body burned to nothing, Will delved into thoughts of the past and considered disappearing once more. So much so that when a loud roar echoed through the tunnels, he waked toward it. Staring into that light he considered the pros and cons of getting injured enough for a false persona to emerge and take hold for a while. Someone small and insignificant, that would be overlooked.
Dodge or trauma induced amnesia?
The choice wasn't his as the bike swerved off course. It was probably better that way. That was a nice bike. With a sigh he moved to walk off, pulling his hood lower around his head and rummaging for a smoke. "What are you doing? Why didn't you move out of the way!?" His emerald eyes, veiled by burning red hair, turned to identify the speaker even as he lit his cigarette. After a moment of silence he answered in a hoarse tone, vocals dry and ragged sounding from disuse. "I don't know." He said simply.
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Post by Masatatsu Kazeyoshi on Apr 4, 2014 7:42:17 GMT -6
"with your help my hope is rising, it's overflowing" now, i'm nothing, but when i'm with you i fly "we can make it through this night" if we connect
The headlights on his motorbike lit up the tunnels and revealed to him the fellow who had gotten in his way and interrupted his ride. Masatatsu dismounted his bike and gave him one look over. The simple answer he gave in response to Masatatsu's question was less than impressive to the biker. "What, are you slow or something? You gotta do better than that if you want to survive well in these tunnels." Masatatsu lectured him a little. He took off his bike helmet as his spiked hair fluffed out from beneath it again and set the helmet on his bike. Then he walked toward the red head who was also smoking a cigarette while continuing to say, "Surely you've got some tough pokemon to save your rear out in a place like this in case a wild vicious underground pokemon attacks!"
This person wasn't backing down or shying away in the slightest, but Masatatsu always carried himself in a tough manner anyway, even for his lean and athletic form, unusual for most stereotypical bikers who hung around in the dark alleys and abandoned roads and streets. He stood up straight and tall, fearless and rugged, even though he wasn't even taller than the other. "The Tunnels of Yami will accept no weaklings. You gotta prove yourself if you want to get anywhere." He talked all haughtily as if he owned the place, which was a bit more typical of people like himself. When he withdrew a pokeball from his belt, his intentions should have been clear enough of what he meant by what he said. "I summon...Stardust!" He announced enthusiastically as the pokeball opened and a Luxray appeared, ready for combat. But also as he did this, he held a Pokemon card up in the air with all seriousness in his deep blue eyes.
ooc//yayyy
words//314
tags//will; anyone |
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Post by Will Ryan on Apr 4, 2014 22:26:45 GMT -6
With the motorcycle's head beams lighting up the tunnel walls all around him, Will was reminded of just how much he hated being in the spotlight. Another reason he didn't often challenge gyms. Too many people staring at him and way too much attention that was unneeded. He had to take a moment to blink out the spots from his vision, but his hair kept him from being suddenly blinded. The young man took a steady pull from his smoke and let it out in a slow stream where it drifted lazily around in a sluggish plume as the man got off the bike.
If he were honest with himself, Will would have to admit that he missed riding around on modern transportation. There was a unique feel to it. Going from zero to one hundred and twenty in a handful of minutes while an engine roared in your ears was different than doing the same on the back on a flying pokemon. That didn't mean he disliked flying or having a pokemon powerful enough to turn the sky into a playground. It was just different. He could respect both types of transport. After all, you couldn't dive bomb on a motorcycle. That was just something else entirely.
Will's attention came to a focus on the other young man, who seemed to be working himself up into a frenzy at that point. The insults didn't anger him, but they did annoy him ever so slightly, finding a way under his skin despite himself clamping down on it with self control. He wasn't slow in any way, shape, or form. He'd been surviving long enough to where he didn't need some half-assed lecture from some random punk with a bike. But that word..."weak". It echoed throughout his mind and his fists clenched as the monster inside him roared with rage. His pokemon were not weak. He was not weak! With his frustration mounting, Will's self control slipped.
The familiar sound of a pokemon being materialized proved to push him beyond the boiling point. A battle, straight to the challenge with no talk over wages put down. Slowly he reached up to pull his hood down with his free hand. As the red beam of light began to take shape into something recognizable, he brought a hand to comb back his hair, allowing cold, calculating emerald eyes to glare out at the trainer and the pokemon he called out. He took them both into account. Collecting as much data as possible, both major and minor, in a fraction of a second, whist measuring and weighing the threat they posed. A Luxray, fitting. A prideful person had an equally prideful pokemon.
As he took another drag from his cigarette a pokeball appeared in his hand and opened, sending out a brilliant beam to crash into the ground beside him and materialize. Shape was determined first, height and weight, taller than the trainer but still an overall humanoid shape. Six feet of wiry muscle formed, the bright red gloves giving it away as a hitmonchan. "Atlas," Will said simply without flare. The creature took a few steps forward, meeting the Luxray's eyes easily and shrugged his shoulders. He bounced slightly before settling into a wary stance with his fists at his sides, but only eyed the opposing pokemon curiously. That is, before a sharp whistle from Will made him twitch and straighten. The stance changed, one foot pointing forward as the other settled further back. The fists came up shortly afterward.
[We sticking with the turn based normal style or we going creative writing battle?]
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Post by Masatatsu Kazeyoshi on Apr 14, 2014 7:24:38 GMT -6
"with your help my hope is rising, it's overflowing" now, i'm nothing, but when i'm with you i fly "we can make it through this night" if we connect
He always began to feel excited when a battle started. This was all competitive fun to him. Above all else, he wanted to win. He almost had to in order to back up his pride and arrogance, but he was too careless to worry about karma coming back to bite him someday, maybe today. Completely confident, with a look on his face that suggested that he already thought he was going to win, he ordered his Luxray forward to meet their opponent. "Alright, Stardust, attack the Hitmonchan with your all-powerful, unstoppable Wild Charge!!!" He shouted, waving the Luxray Pokemon card around for enunciation.
Stardust roared in response and crouched as a wave of electric energy pulsed through her huge, muscled body from her tail, making the orange rings on her legs glow and her main seem to grow with static. The deep growl in her throat was powered by the thunderous power she had gathered. With the sound of thunder in her roar, she began charging at the opponent pokemon as the electricity began surrounding her form like a ball of light, with the speed she had maxed out while training to run alongside Masatatsu on his motorcycle. This attack was no less a Luxray's most powerful move, and Masatatsu always chose to hit as hard as he could when he fought.
ooc//I guess, turn based with room for creativity? ^^
words//222
tags//will; anyone |
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Post by Will Ryan on Apr 20, 2014 4:43:38 GMT -6
Will took a few steps back and off to the side, allowing Atlas the space he needed for full battle movement. The Hitmonchan's eyes didn't stray from the Luxray as it positioned itself. Atlas tightened his guard and bounced again, adjusting his weight to a comfortable balance. Will watched it all with a detached interest as he pulled out his pokedex. Idly, he flipped through a few screens while his opponent started shouting. When the screen that held a stop watch popped displayed, he glanced up to see the pokemon just as it roared. A strong electricity current started to surge through it's fur covered body. That was actually quite an impressive light show.
"Detect." At Will's command a small glow started to shine from Atlas's eyes. The Hitmonchan stared down the charging lightning beast with a disturbingly calculating calm. Within the punching pokemon's eye the world slowed to a crawl. He could see everything while in this state of hyper awareness. So much so that he could see every stray spark arcing from the fur of his adversary. When the creature finally came upon him, the Hitmonchan simply moved out of the way. By the smallest of margins, he leaned at the last second before impact, and his feet slid under him. For such a small movement, it created enough distance for the Luxray to scream passed as a roaring bullet of thunder and lightning.
On the side, Will started the timer as soon as Atlas moved. As a rule of thumb most Hitmonchan carried devastating power in a fight. The speed and strength in a punch could floor most pokemon easily in the blink of an eye. Add that to their physical and elemental resilience and you had a well rounded pokemon to gauge an opponent's battle style and measure the power their pokemon held. Practically speaking, they were the perfect lead pokemon in a battle if they weren't always expected to win. The only reason they couldn't be quite deemed team sweepers was because their overall stamina was the tradeoff for the trademark explosive impact. And it was severely lacking. Not only was it required for the Hitmonchan to be at its peak to take more than a couple of hits in top ranked matches, they're explosive power only lasted a max of three minutes before they tired themselves out. Sure, conditioning could adjust the time, but it degraded the power in order to stretch it out over a longer period.
If Will had to put it in other terms it would be like describing a runner. Hitmonchans would be akin to prime short distance "sprinters". Figurative speaking they would run fast and hard for about a hundred meters only to reach the finishline and then slow before dying out, completely spent. That's how their bodies naturally worked. To adjust them, one had to break the sprinter mindset and transition the training into a "pacer" or "long distance" style. As a result you would have a Hitmonchan that could metaphorically "run" for a longer time (distance) at a slower (weaker) overall pace. It was steady and lasted longer, sometimes even becoming a good trade in certain team dynamics. However, it never reached the sheer explosive potential that even a weaker Hitmonchan could have in a straight "sprint" style.
Against this Luxray, Atlas could probably take two or three hits if he was lucky. Since he had three minutes- correction two minutes and fifty two seconds- it was easy for most seasoned battlers to overlook this type in favor of more renowned heavy hitters like a Machamp or Hariyama. But Will had handpicked Atlas for a reason he wasn't even completely sure and the breeder knew that the fighter would give his all for every second of any battle he was chosen for.
Two minutes and forty-seven seconds...
"Get close." At Will's command the Hitmonchan blurred. Distance could be the enemy here and Atlas closed it in a heartbeat. The opponent had started off his pokemon with a charging attack for power, but that wasn't to say the creature couldn't hurl a few accurate bolts of electricity. Also, judging from the charge itself the fact that the creature was well trained was easy to see. There wasn't any wasted static in it. It was a bane and a boon because while it meant that the chance of a stray charge would paralyze his pokemon it also spoke out for the control the creature held over its element.
Just at the distance came to a minimum, Atlas taking care to move toward the creature in a zigzag pattern, he spoke again. "What do we do when we're in Kanto?" He paused to give it more effect, but even before he finished he could see his Hitmonchan's gloves gather a thick coat of lightning. "Atlas?" The crackling intensified. The obvious answer was to act as Kantans do. What better way to rile up an electric pokemon than battle it with its own element? Plenty of room for that pride to get in the way. As the last bit of distance closed, Atlas went in with a straight jab from his left arm, quickly shifting into a bob and weave that carried him to the right, before a powerful step and push off carried him into the left direction with a strong hook shot. The Thunderpunch was lightning quick, hidden in the hook, but not the jab. Both punches could be considered love taps, but Atlas was going for control of the fight and battlefield not sheer damage.
Two minutes and thirty-five seconds...
[Trying to get a good feel without overstepping any bounds if I did anything that you don't think is unfair (now or in the future), pm me and I'll edit asap. And please be gentle, I'm rusty as all heck.]
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