[PRP] Cold Flood

[Blood_Goddess]

Storms had already started to take parts of the city of Jinko into its clutches, Not that it was particularly uncommon for storms to ravage this town, at least more so than the other settlements on the island of Kodo, but the interest it had raised in Team Rocket, had everything to do with the fact that this City now had personnel stationed there.

After the fall of their headquarters, and the scattering of Rockets to the outposts, a quiet had settled over the large number of Rockets, and the Rocket activity with it.
This of course did not imply that there was no longer an organization, or a communication within the ranks, as always Rocket worked from the shadows; when it needed to, and for however long it needed to.

Jerome was certainly not out of work, as the Agent was part of the transport department, in charge of assuring that equipment gets to where it needs to go safely and without suspicion while helping to assure the safety of the team of Rockets he was in charge of.
Today was a bit less of his usual run however, having gotten the assignment that the Jinko outpost, while old and not nearly as kept up as it should be, was experiencing flooding in the lower underground levels.
His job? Take them the equipment and personnel expert enough to fix the issues in the sealed base and remove the flooded water before next storm hit.

It was a cold morning after the storm, though the sea was again a calm swelling blanket in the distance, one would never suspect it of its earlier rage.
Residence of the shaken city were out and about, assessing the damage many of the buildings had taken, and starting a clean up that was almost a tradition at this point. Never even suspecting that a similar task was being preformed below their feet.

Jerome, having gotten the first half of his job done, had now just to wait until he could make the trip back to his temporary home in Ambergris town, suddenly feeling grateful for the run down, overgrown, ghost infested, rust hole of an outpost.
At least it didn't flood.

"An then! an then! ya know what I did!" a small voice... though more as an echo in ones own mind than an actual sound, bouncing with eagerness "I told th's**t tha' he wen' an got that mix all up and ******** up."
The vocabulary akin to a street thug didn't match the childish sound that was projected, or the face for that matter.
This was something Jerome was used to, and probably responsible for, as the man, sitting against the wall of a building tucked in an alleyway and trying to warm himself with a cigarette and a black coat, the latter doing much more to protect him from the icy air.
Inked black eyes watched with a calm interest as his fingers pressed the burning stick to his lips and he breathed in slowly.

Sitting right next to the man, watching the same thing the man was with a set toothy frown and one squinted acid green eye sat a large purple Gengar, half glowing in green tribal markings his stubby arms folded across his chest in a bored manner.

Both had their eyes on a Jirachi, with a cysteine blue heat and tales, bright blue eyes and a sweet young face that only complimented the youthful tone he had, was floating before the two gruffer beings, holding his arms out wide as he made dramatic gestures to go along with the story he was telling the gangster, who stubbornly kept his hood up over his half bald head.
"An then! when I tried to add the right plant extract...! ... It wen all and blew the s**t up in mah face."
The Jirachi concluded with a less then excited air to his.

A grin spread over the gangster's lips at the conclusion of the story, just picturing the look on his and the boy's faces.
"S'that why ya had all that black s**t all in yer face?" a deep voice spoke in a chuckle from under the hood.

"Yea." the Jirachi squeaked. "s**t wouldn't c'm off."

"Well man, ya know Zacharie blew lots a' s**t up before he got where he iz, M'sure. ********, still does."

This seemed to perk the Jirachi again.  

[Shiny Hermione]

Hermione was in excellent spirits -- as she always was in the aftermath of a particularly vicious storm -- as she trotted through Jinko's streets, walking carefully around the plentiful puddles and sometimes outrightly flooded streets. Chikorita had opted to remain inside her Pokeball rather than be stuck in the damp, gray weather, and Hermione absently stroked its red and white surface on her belt as she rounded a corner; it wasn't often that the leaf-toting Pokemon wasn't at her heels.

A visit to her parents found them as busy as ever, her mother doubling down on boarding their house's windows in case the storm circled back as they often did, her father on the phone with a man about an astraphobic Pikachu that refused to leave its Pokeball after the storm. She'd only stayed for lunch, but it had been a nice visit regardless. Uneventful, but nice.

Uneventful, of course, because she had absolutely nothing new to say, despite having been exploring Kodo for well over a month.

Despite being an actual Pokemon trainer, training and traveling with sidekick as motivated as she herself was. Despite having planned to shoot for the stars, not piddle on the ground--

Hermione sighed sharply, shaking her head to rid herself of her self-reproaching thoughts. She was off to a slow start to achieving her Pokemon-riddled dreams of new discoveries and glory, but she'd still started, and one step ahead was better than not stepping at all.

"I'm doing perfectly fine," Hermione coached herself aloud, gripping her Chikorita's Pokeball briefly as she corrected, "We're doing perfectly fine."

It was then that she came across the narrow mouth of an alley, pausing to consider how best to get around a muddy collection of water in the road. It was in the clouded surface of the water that she noticed a vague glimmer of blue-white: the reflection of a Pokemon that immediately elicited a surprised, muted squeal from the young trainer. "Oh!" she exclaimed, stepping into the alley without care as her heeled sneakers sunk into the mud; she kicked free of it and scrambled forward. "Jirachi -- the wish Pokemon! I've never seen one in Jinko before--"

Noticing the Pokemon's trainer was a secondary surprise, wide whiskey eyes blinking twice before she gathered herself out of her rudeness and managed a smile. "Oh, hello, I didn't -- I'm sorry, I've just never -- and oh, goodness, your Gengar's markings are... remarkable!" Spluttering, Hermione lifted a hand to adjust her slipping cap, an excited flush rising high on her freckled cheeks. "Sorry," she said again, softer this time.  

[Blood_Goddess]

Though they were used to people passing by, mostly going unnoticed by the crowd, it wasn't too surprising to the group when they heard a voice in closer proximity to them.

The man, crouched by the building turned his head to the side, enough to see a young girl, probably a trainer from the ball of her belt and the say she spoke about the pokemon.

The Jirachi hovering in front of Jerome blinked his eyes in surprise, pointing to himself curiously "Wish pokemon?" His telekinesis voiced confusion. "Me? Pff, I ain't no wish pokemon."

The man stood, turning to the girl while keeping a hand up to the cigarette he was pulling from his lips and letting fall to his side.
He didn't seem surprised, or even offended at her own struck moment.
"Ya a trainer r'somethin'?" He asked, in a thick deep tone that carried a level of calmness to it.
The Gengar on the the other hand, allowed his face to split into a wide grin and he floated up toward the girl, flexing his arms and allowing the glowing markings to illuminate a little brighter each flex.  

[Shiny Hermione]

For a long moment, the trainer appeared overstimulated, unable to choose between responding to the Jirachi, listening to the human, or watching wide-eyed as the Gengar better displayed his markings. Her sheltered upbringing was rearing its head in the most embarrassing, wide-eyed and starstruck way. "That's amazing," she murmured at last, her voice faint as her eyes fixated on the Gengar, hand raised as if to touch though she paused several inches away from the illuminated swirls. "That's -- you're absolutely amazing, you know," she said to the Pokemon directly, lifting her eyes as she offered a smile.

Blinking as though just recalling the other two figures in the muddy alley, Hermione took a step back as though coming out of a spell, looking distinctly shy. "Um, yes, I'm a -- I'm a trainer," she agreed quietly, just now managing to assemble the man's question into a response, "I'm sort of just starting out -- aren't you a trainer?" she asked abruptly, head tilted so a lock of her bouncy curls drifted against the frame of her face.