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 Posted: Wed Feb 03, 2010 8:14 pm
Entry found_
It was a day like any other day. At least, a day that was without an assignment. Being a mere Grunt in the Team Rocket Organization meant a lot of things. It meant you were practically on the bottom of the food chain. It meant you were expendable.
It also meant you did not get as many big assignments.
In all his wisdom, the agent 1337 had taken to working on writing some computer programs. This was not the sort of thing you worked on in broad daylight though. It was the thing you did in your own room with the lights out. Considering the man's unusual equipment, he could work where ever he wanted. Cafeteria, in the lab, down the corridor. Today he had decided on his bed. His fingers on his left hand were working productively, while the rest of his body laid slumped against the bed, his back held up slightly by the wall.
Since he was working on something serious, he had to have out his tools. This meant that a particular Iron Ball Pokémon was hovering over the area.
"Pokémon, check this program for any errors," the command was eventually spoken in a neutral tone. There was no kindness, no compassion, no love in 1337's voice. This was strictly business, and his tone sounded professional at the very best.
The Beldum remained in place in the air, unblinking as it began to process the request. If one looked carefully into the Pokémon's eye, one could see the faint lights that seemed to stream through the iris. It was processing data.
On the screen which could only be seen by 1337, data began to pour in. His unseen eyes scanned over the information, easily able to understand exactly what had been written, despite it all being written in 0s and 1s.
"I must be getting sloppy in my old age," he uttered. The Pokémon had pointed out several more mistakes than he had suspected were in the program. When the Iron Ball had finished its job, there was no "Thank you" from the human. There never was. The Beldum was a tool, nothing more. You didn't thank your wrench when you used it to tighten a bolt. You didn't thank your hammer for pounding in a nail into a wall.
In 1337's mind, you didn't thank your Pokémon for doing what was expected of them.
Once the faint glow of the Beldum's eye dimmed after finishing its task, something strange had happened. Thanks to the room being so dim, even a self absorbed jackass like 1337 couldn't help but notice that the Pokémon was beginning to glow. It was an intense hot white glow that practically lit up the whole room.
"About damned time, Pokémon," was the only thing 1337 offered as the Beldum's body changed. It was reforming itself, body growing larger and general form rebuilding itself into a sturdier creature. For most trainers, this would have been an important moment to note. 1337 could care less and resumed his work, tidying up his program as the Beldum had seen fit. By the time the Rocket Agent had finished with the program, the light had died down and there was no longer a Beldum in the room. There was a Metang hovering in the place where the Beldum had once been. Fortunately, it was still able to fit in the room.
"Next time ya evolve, wait til we're outside. At least you won't break any floorboards from your weight." 446.4 lbs was quite a bit of stress to put on the floor. In all of the time that the agent had his Pokémon, that was perhaps the first time that he said anything to it that was remotely personal.
For the trainer, it was not a big issue.
For the Pokémon, it was a day it would not wipe from its memory. Ever.
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Posted: Wed Mar 24, 2010 9:48 pm
Entry found_
It was just an ordinary raiding mission. Slip in under the cover of the night, steal a bunch of Pokémon, return back to the Headquarters. There was nothing too wild or crazy about it. It was a dumpy little Breeding Facility, that apparently specialized in Eevees.
The visored figure glanced over the corny wooden sign. Happy Time Pokémon Ranch. It sounded like a day camp. He didn't care. The computer hacker was simply here to do his job. Perhaps it was not his specialty, but he had been assigned on this mission, so he was going to do what he was supposed to.
Security in this joint was a joke. 1337 and all the other grunts were able to slip in, completely unnoticed. They made it to the store room and began to pack up all sorts of eggs into their sacks. This place was packed with eggs.
1337 was careful to not pack too many eggs in his bag, since if there were too many, there was the risk of cracking one prematurely.
Eevee omelets did not sound very tasty.
With 5 eggs in his sack, the tall figure began to prepare to leave when suddenly from under one of the shelves, an Eevee slipped out. It stretched its limbs and yawned, looking like it had just been woken up by all the commotion going on in the room. It blinked slowly, trying to wake itself, then it looked up.
"Vee?!"
1337 might not have been the best crook, but he did know that the more Pokémon, the better. He also knew that if he left this Eevee alone, it would just alert the owners of the facility. He reached into his side pouch and pulled out a ball. He didn't see which one, and in all honesty, he didn't care.
"Go!" was all he uttered as he threw the ball at the Pokémon's head. The Pokémon managed to wince slightly before it turned into red light and was sucked into the ball.
It wiggled one time.
Two times.
Three times.
The Eevee was captured. 1337 picked up the ball, casually noting it was a dark ball he had used.
As he slipped back into the night, heading back to Headquarters, he mentally noted if he got to keep any of these Pokémon, it would be evolved right away.
He had been in need of a battery.
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Posted: Wed Mar 24, 2010 11:06 pm
Entry found_
One could never accuse PWN'D, 1337's prized Metang, of being a rather picky Pokémon. It did as its human requested without any hesitation. It got food, so there were no complaints on its side. It processed data, converted codes and double checked the work of its owner every so often. Though this Steel type was physically built strong, it was rarely used for battle. No, it did not care about battle.
It cared about being functional for 1337.
There was one day that the Metang remembered well. Fortunately, this recall would be rather helpful today.
Today, 1337 and the Pokémon were in a training corridor. PWN'D was no longer a practical size, so it needed more space to fit comfortably without ruining a room. When the human said "Pokémon, check this program for any errors," the Metang's red eyes seemed to have a few small streams of light running through its irises.
Normally, this would have been the usual scene, however, something stopped rather abruptly.
A message popped up on the screen inside of 1337's visor.
01001001 00100000 01101110 01100101 01100101 01100100 00100000 01110100 01101111 00100000 01100111 01101111 00100000 01101111 01110101 01110100 01110011 01101001 01100100 01100101
The human's eyes filtered through the message pretty quickly and translated the message. I need to go outside.
"Excuse me?"
The message flashed across the screen again, absolutely no change to the 0s and 1s on the screen.
1337 quirked a brow under his visor, but almost sensing the urgency in the message, he recalled the Pokémon in its Pokéball. Despite the urgency, the Rocket simply walked down the hallways, winding down until he managed to make it outside. There really wasn't much out there, except for sun during the day.
"Alright, let's see what this is all about..." the visored man uttered as he tossed the Pokéball out again to summon the metal claw Pokémon. After the red light faded and the Pokémon was called out, something strange happened. It began to glow that intense white glow it had done before. Like before, the Metang's body began to transform. It got larger, and two more legs seemed to sprout along its backside. All the while as the Pokémon changed, one memory was repeating itself over and over in its mind.
"Next time ya evolve, wait til we're outside. At least you won't break any floorboards from your weight."
When the Pokémon ceased changing, it was no longer the Metang from before. It was now a Metagross. 1,212.5 pounds of Metagross.
Where as 1337 seemed unimpressed with the first evolution, that seemed to be far from the case this time. "F*ckin' sweet!!! Oh god, I've gotta find you some b*tchin' TMs!!!" It almost sounded like a nerd geeking out over their newest toy.
PWN'D had remembered the human's request. PWN'D had processed and fulfilled the request.
PWN'D now had two memories that were worth keeping to memory now.
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Posted: Wed Mar 31, 2010 3:38 pm
Entry found_
Ah, the brig. It was a rather lovely place to work. It wasn't too much different from 1337's dorm room to be rather honest. It was dark. It smelled a bit. About the only thing that was really different was that the walls were bars instead of solid. 1337 saw nothing special about the change of scenery.
Yet at 10 am on this particular day, this was to be his workstation, so to speak. He had a laptop, he had the generic Team Rocket uniform, and he had a visor on his head. He had no tools for the trade, even though he had made a convincing argument that PWN'D was technically considered a "standard issue" tool. "Standard issue" referencing the fact PWN'D was a Pokémon, and Pokémon were considered tools in this organization.
Despite the argument being convincing and accurate, he was stripped of his Pokémon as well. Oh well, it just meant that the visored figure would have to do all the work manually.
It really wasn't that big a deal. In fact, it was a challenge. An impossible challenge, yes, he knew that. Yet, that wouldn't dampen his spirits.
11:00 am - The project was under way. The figure sat in his little holding cell, fingers quickly typing away, seeming to easily turn the necessary codes into the assigned language of <********>. PWN'D would have obviously made this task simpler, but it was a challenge. Challenges were fun, regardless of the difficulty.
It might have seemed odd, but 1337 was not wearing a shirt. He had come into the brig with one. Standard issue black shirt with a red "R" on the front. It diminished his sexy factor as he liked to label it by at least 75%. It was true enough that he had no audience to speak of, but 1337's pride was audience enough for him to take the shirt off and toss it to the side like some useless rag.
12:00 pm - If he wasn't paying so much attention to the screen at hand, he might have noticed that a large hulk of a Rocket Grunt had walked up to his barred door. There was a tray of what seemed to be mush and a glass of water. It was hard to tell whether or not the visored man was looking at someone or not, but soon enough 1337 gave the simple instructions. "Leave the water, take the food back." The grunt shrugged, not really caring one way or another, and did as told. It was obvious that 1337 had no plans to eat unless he had his hot sauce.
And sadly, there was no hot sauce to be had.
3:00 pm - 1337 allotted himself a whole 2 minutes to piss in the toilet. Yet, even as he stood there in front of the urinal, his mind was thinking in codes. That was always what happened when this particular agent got an important assignment of the sort. Simple thoughts were converted to whatever code he needed to do. It was strange to say the least, but at least one couldn't accuse him of slacking off.
Being a dipsh*t, maybe. Not a slacker though. After such a leisurely break, 1337 sat himself back down in front of the computer. His fingers were cramping slightly from the straight 5 hours of typing, so he opened and closed his hands a few times, as if to try and ease the sensation tingling in his finger tips. That was perhaps another minute of wasted time. Regardless of how his fingers felt, it was time to get back to work. Soon enough, fingers were flying over the keyboard again.
7:00 pm - A different grunt of the same sort of body build as the first one popped by, another tray of mush and water ready for 1337. Once again, the shirtless man took the water and shooed away the food. Water was much more essential than food anyways. He could afford taking maybe 1 minute to guzzle down the water. He could not afford to take 5-10 minutes to consume some liquid paste that probably had no flavor. Especially no spice to it. His fingers felt stiff, but at least they weren't at that numbness where you start making stupid typing mistakes.
He had been there before. 1337 knew he was going to get to that point. It was just a matter of time.
10:30 pm - There was another small allotment of time given to drain the lizard. This time he only needed 1 minute to complete this task, and gave himself 2 minutes to tend to his rather stiff fingers. Fingers opened and shut, shut and opened, and even got the knuckles cracked a couple times. He had 1.5 hours left, and he was going to go into crunch time. Even though he already knew he had failed (seriously, what human could do this workload in 1 day?), there was still a grin on his face. Why couldn't he get work like this more often?
This was fun.
11:59 pm - Nope, he was nowhere near the end. Yet, 1337 even allowed himself 1 small victory. It was 1 minute until it was officially the next day, but he had managed to check over his progress rather quickly. By simply allotting himself perhaps a free 10 minutes over the whole span of the day in regards to breaks (though he honestly would have preferred those first 10 hours of the day he had missed), he had managed to beat through 11.37% of the workload.
He broke into double digits on his impossible workload.
Even as the new day approached a minute later, his fingers wouldn't stop typing. Oh no, he was determined to finish this challenge. Whether or not anybody cared. Whether or not he was an Agent or a Grunt.
This day, in all honesty, had been awesome.
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Posted: Sun Jun 27, 2010 7:55 pm
Entry found_
Day 2
12:00 am - 11.37% still completed.
Fingers still continued to type, as if a one minute difference in time wasn't a big deal. In the wide perspective of things, it really wasn't that different. Yet, that single minute was what signified the difference between Day 1 and Day 2. It was Day 2, and he was going to use the full 24 hours to his advantage.
1:52 am - Approximately 15 hours into his work, and the strains of the workload was already starting to wear his body down a bit. This stretch at night really did bother him, since there was nobody stopping in to offer him food. It wasn't like he was eating the food, but it was still nice to have someone pop by after so many hours, even if it was to wordlessly drop a tray off. To make matters worse, his body had decided it needed to relieve itself. Not in the easy short fashion which he had been accustomed to for a majority of the day. No. It needed to get rid of some solid waste. It was going to be a waste of time just sitting there.
A waste of time.
2:03 am - It took 11 minutes. 11 damned minutes!!! 1337 could have maybe gotten through a one thousandth of a percent done with his assignment. However, one thing that he was vaguely grateful for was the fact he had 11 minutes to attempt and stretch his fingers. The one thing about typing for 15 hours solely powered off of water was that your fingers felt cramped up after so many hours of straight typing. Food would have been nice. It really would have been.
It just wasn't worth it without the hot sauce though.
7:00 am - A third grunt came by to drop off breakfast, a wonderful tray of mush and water to start the day off. He was also just as tall and bulky as the other two the visored agent had come across the day before. Yet, he notably blinked in surprise as the man in the brig was not only already up and working, but simply shooed away the mush. Apparently there wasn't much of a communication network amongst these grunts of the Brig. 1337 guzzled down the water, taking about 30 seconds to guzzle down the water, since he needed to compensate the lost time from his previous adventure to the toilet.
This was the 20 hour mark. His fingers were definitely crying out in pain, though he continued to type through the pain. Heck, the grunt who brought the food wouldn't have even known that 1337 was feeling any sort of discomfort. There was a wide grin still spread upon his face. The only commentary the grunt offered was a simple "Creepy!"
11:00 am - 24 hours had passed. The shirtless Agent checked his progress.
19.82%
There was a vague grumble and a string of curses that escaped his mouth. It might not have been noticeable to most, but 1337 had easily noted when his fingers had gotten sore, his typing had slowed up slightly. Oh, the difference of 5 wpm could make on progress.
"I was aimin' for 20% at least." That was enough complaining. Complaining took effort. All efforts were needed to type.
11:47 am - A liquid diet meant a necessary 2 minute break to relieve himself. He was mentally cursing the whole time he was leaking the lizard.
12:00 pm - Like clockwork, a Rocket Grunt came down to deliver what was supposed to be considered a meal. 1337 didn't look up, but it seemed that each of these Grunts worked one meal shifts, for this was the same Grunt who had brought the tray at lunch time the day before.
"Leave the water, take the food back."
The grunt stared at the visored man who wasn't wearing a shirt. Had this guy even moved from his spot since the day before? There were small details that signaled movement, but the grunt didn't seem to notice. Perhaps this was the reason why he was on lunch duty in the brig? Having done his job, he took the tray back up with him, leaving the man there to type with his glass of water.
2:37 pm - Exhaustion was a b*tch! One moment, the only thing that 1337 was struggling with was how his fingers were clumsily hitting keys on the laptop, requiring that extra effort to delete the mistake and retype it. The next, his face felt like it was going to fall off. Fortunately, his visor hid any hint of his sudden tiredness. The dark circles remained hidden, the drooping of the corners of his eyes also masked by cold metal.
His progress had slowed again, only barely hitting 21% a few minutes prior.
5:53 pm - Was it normal for one's face to feel absolutely numb? Probably not. However, it wasn't the numbness that caught 1337's attention at this time. The visor he wore completely covered his eyes, so he relied on the monitor inside of the visor to serve as his sight. And at 5:53 pm, the colors began to change. One moment, the dimly lit cell was an ugly gray color. The next, it turned a hideously bright shade of green. There were things that the agent could panic about, but he rarely did. Even now, as his eyes were being raped by bright neon green walls, he continued to numbly type out codes.
Someone is messing with my equipment upstairs. If he was in a better mood, he would have laughed. It was f*cking hilarious that everything he was was an obnoxious green color.
7:00 pm - Dinner time grunt came down to do his job. And despite the fact that 1337's stomach grumbled something fierce that pasty goop was pushed in his direction, once again, the agent declined it. Even as he drank some of the water down, it was pretty obvious that a lot of it was not exactly making it into the mouth.
The grunt took back the tray, but he offered an honest assessment. "You look like crap."
"Thank you!" was the sarcastic remark back. The grunt left in silence.
8:17 pm - 1 more minute had to be wasted peeing into a toilet bowl. However, this break was a welcomed one. God, he wanted sleep. He wanted hot sauce. He wanted his equipment back. There were an awful lot of wants that made it really hard for him to make his way back to that laptop.
It was mocking him. That gentle glow of the screen was mocking him, laughing at his expense. It probably didn't help any that the screen was now absolutely green. There was a slight throbbing at his temple, and that meant he had a headache. No, it wasn't from staring at the monitor too long. It was how he was able to see most times, so any motherly advice about sitting further away from the monitor were null and void.
It was just the color. Neon green was NOT a friendly color to stare at for several hours.
That one minute break had very slowly turned into a 10 minute break. And somehow, 1337 hadn't noticed, despite how a**l he had been the whole time about not wasting any time. He once again sat down, put the laptop in his lap, and began to type.
11:34 pm - Computer Crash. Not a literal one. He had once again checked his progress at the 36 hour mark, and found himself lingering at 24.61%. How he had even made it that far, he somewhat forgot. In fact, everything had been blurring together for an awfully long time. He hadn't even realized it when his body hunched forward and forced him to take a break. He was lucky that his hands hadn't landed on the keyboard, or there would have been a lot of Fs or Ps or ;s to delete when he was given this computer back.
The next morning he was released from the brig and put into the medical ward. Hot sauce was served when he finally woke up.
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Posted: Thu Jul 08, 2010 9:13 pm
Entry found_
Missions ranged in complexity. Raids were the typical mission. Usually pretty easy, but absolutely boring as sin. Missions which required stealth were trickier. Missions which required security breaches were usually the most fun.
And then today, the mission was lame.
Due to the science facilities running low on test subjects for their experiments, each Rocket Grunt is required to steal or capture 1 Pokémon by day's end.
Sure, 1337 might have been a Grunt again, but it didn't mean that such pointless missions would have him jumping through hoops. No, no hoops for 1337 unless they were the type pierced into his nose. Deciding to take it easy for the day, he put on his civilian clothes (which ironically was the exact same as his custom Rocket uniform, just lacking in a red R on the shoulder), took one of the jeeps, and headed to Camphoreon City. He was by himself in the vehicle, so he drove like a normal person. Good thing nobody was in the jeep to see him being so tame.
When in the city, he parked his vehicle somewhere nondescript. However, it didn't take long before eyes had been on him. He might have had a visor covering his eyes, but he could see every single confused face as it looked him over curiously. In all honesty, he loved it. It made his already broad grin just grow even wider. Attention was on him as he went to the department store. For a while, even in the department store, many people couldn't help but check out his tech.
 Then she appeared.
A young girl, couldn't have been much older than middle school age (WAY TOO YOUNG for 1337) all of a sudden seemed to demand all attention. She was a brunette, decked out in red with white lace all over. She must have been into Lolita fashion or something. He had only passed her as she was taking residence in front of the Poffin counter. He noted casually that she had a Jigglypuff in her arms with a headband matching her own.
That Pokémon must be spoiled rotten then. It was a natural conclusion.
He proceeded to order some spicy poffins, rather blatantly ignoring the girl. Spicy poffins were for himself. His Pokémon didn't need any poffins. Poffins made for fat Pokémon. Well, at least the Jolteon would get fat. It was hard to call a Metagross fat. Large, yes. Fat, not so much. As he made his order, large brown eyes were upon him. He didn't even give her the attention she seemed to require. He grabbed his bag of poffins and began to make his way to his next errand. Every so often, his gloved hand would dip into his bag and pluck out a poffin to munch on.
He meandered up stairs, wandered up to counters, and gathered parts he needed. He might not have mentioned it at the time, but he had noticed this Lolita girl was following him where he went. She wasn't very good at hiding, especially with that stupid balloon Pokémon squeaking out every so often.
He was about to head back to his ride when he just stopped.
"Hey, kid. What the hell are ya doing, following me around?" He didn't turn around, he just waited for her to reveal herself.
"Oh... you found me out, huh?" She stuck her tongue out as she rounded the tree she had attempted to hide behind. The girl wandered up behind him, clutching onto her Jigglypuff in her arms like a stuffed animal. The Jigglypuff didn't seem to mind. "I was just wondering... um... why are you wearing all of that?"
1337 could never be accused of being polite. This was a girl behind him, not a woman. He definitely was no *****, he'd never be accused of such. So his response, in turn, was less than polite. "Why the hell are you wearing all of that?" She couldn't see it yet, but his lips were already grinning. He popped another poffin in between his lips and started to chew as he slowly turned to face her.
"Hey! I'm actually famous where I come from!" the brunette rebutted, brown eyes scrunching up slightly. "Haven't you ever heard of LizDuck? Or Bob the Jigglypuff?!"
The visor-wearing Rocket leaned forward and looked over the Pokémon. "Nope. Never heard of such a ridiculous name before. And didn't know ya dressed male Pokémon like fags out in your area...wherever that is."
This girl, LizDuck, looked ABSOLUTELY horrified. "Bob is a girl, thank you very much!!!"
"Then ya name your Pokémon retardedly."
The Pokémon rather boldly popped out of her trainer's arms and attacked with a simple POUND attack, slapping her stubby arms across 1337's cheek. Even with the sting of a slap and the new red mark upon his face, the smile upon his face didn't fade.
"Oh, Bob... you don't want to do that..." Rather casually, he tossed a Pokéball out behind him. The Pokémon that appeared behind him was far more intimidating than the little puffball that had just attacked him. It loomed over behind him. "You really don't want to do that."
The girl backed away cautiously, as if finding herself a place to start calling out attacks for the Jigglypuff to do.
1337 also moved out of the way, however, he moved towards the side. His fingers began to type out a message for the Metagross with his strange tech.
01000100 01101001 01110011 01110100 01110010 01100001 01100011 01110100 00100000 01110100 01101000 01100101 00100000 01010000 01101111 01101011 01100101 01101101 01101111 01101110 00100000 01100001 01101110 01100100 00100000 01110100 01110010 01100001 01101001 01101110 01100101 01110010 00100000 01100010 01111001 00100000 01100001 01110100 01110100 01100001 01100011 01101011 01101001 01101110 01100111 00101110 00100000 00100000 01000011 01100001 01110000 01110100 01110101 01110010 01100101 00100000 01110100 01101000 01100101 00100000 01010000 01101111 01101011 01100101 01101101 01101111 01101110 00101100 00100000 01100001 01101110 01100100 00100000 01001001 00100000 01110111 01101001 01101100 01101100 00100000 01100011 01100001 01110000 01110100 01110101 01110010 01100101 00100000 01110100 01101000 01100101 00100000 01010000 01101111 01101011 01100101 01100010 01100001 01101100 01101100 00100000 01101001 01110100 00100000 01100010 01100101 01101100 01101111 01101110 01100111 01110011 00100000 01101001 01101110 00101110 00100000 00100000 01000100 01101111 00100000 01101110 01101111 01110100 00100000 01101100 01100101 01110100 00100000 01110100 01101000 01100101 00100000 01010000 01101111 01101011 01100101 01101101 01101111 01101110 00100000 01100111 01100101 01110100 00100000 01100011 01100001 01101100 01101100 01100101 01100100 00100000 01100010 01100001 01100011 01101011 00101110
The only reply the Rocket got on his monitor was a simple string of ones and zeros.
01011001 01100101 01110011
The Lolita LizDuck, from her new place called out an attack. "Bob, use SING!"
The Jigglypuff twirled on her toes and prepared to sing out a lovely tune for the opponent, when rather suddenly the Metagross just slammed two of its legs into the ground, causing an EARTHQUAKE. The Balloon Pokémon didn't stand a chance, tumbling down flat on her face with a tiny "Puff!"
LizDuck also wobbled on her feet. "Bob, get up!"
There was no response from the balloon Pokémon. 1337 laughed silently as he made his way towards the girl, waiting and watching for an opportunity to strike. Jigglypuffs don't exactly have the highest Defense, stupid girl.
Since the Balloon Pokémon wasn't moving, the Metagross moved forward, legs clanking, then reached out one of its large metal claws and grabbed onto the much smaller Pokémon.
LizDuck let out a yelp the moment her Pokémon was snatched up. "No no no no, what are you doing?! Give her back!!!"
The Pokémon did not seem to comply.
The girl reached into her apron and pulled out a Pokéball. "Bob, return!!" A red beam of light shot in her Pokémon's direction, but the Iron Leg Pokémon was almost relentless, moving the arm holding the Jigglypuff to avoid that beam.
After about three tries, the visored man slid up next to the girl, and rather swiftly snatched up her Pokéball.
"Hey, wait, you can't do that!!!" she whined out, attempting to reach out and grab her belongings, but unable to reach due to the man's tall height.
All the man did was grin. "Team Rocket would like to thank you for your donation, LizDuck, darling." He shot the beam of red light towards the Pokémon, and this time, the Iron Leg Pokémon was much more cooperative. The Jigglypuff faded into red light and vanished from the Metagross' claws.
"BOB, NO!!!! GIVE HER BACK!!!!" She began to beat her fists upon the man's chest, childishly trying to get her Pokémon back.
1337 only said one thing in a relatively plain tone. "Psychic."
The Metagross' X upon its face began to glow of a strange rainbow light. The moment such happened, the girl, LizDuck, seemed to lose all of her enthusiasm, and almost like a puppet on strings, began to walk away.
Fearlessly, the computer hacker wandered next to his Pokémon. "Take her someplace where she cannot get to us easily. It would seem that we managed to pull off the day's quota after all." By the time LizDuck was able to return to where she had lost her Pokémon, all she would find was a crater from the Earthquake attack in the ground. The Rocket Grunt, and her Pokémon was gone without a trace.
This will not be the end... I will find Bob, even if it is the last thing I do she vowed silently.
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Posted: Tue Sep 07, 2010 10:48 pm
Entry found_
When he woke up, the world was black. It wasn't foreign to him, so there was no panic. However, a slight pleasant stinging to his face was blurring his sense of reality at the moment. His fingers went to brush his face and easily found some rather smooth scabs forming along his skin.
Oh god, that must have been some sort of wild party
As his senses seemed to be waking up, he could feel the prickle of little goosebumps rising on his skin. However, something else also seemed to be bothering his skin too. He felt rather confined from about the neck down, so his fingers trailed down.
The f*ck? There was cloth conforming to his body. It felt like a basic Rocket Grunt uniform.
When the hell did this happen? He might not have been able to see, but he knew how to remove clothing from his body. It didn't take a genius to take off a shirt. He began to pull the clothing up over his head, something started to phase back into his mind. It was the intense glare of the green eyes of the pink-haired shrimp.
Oh... well that explains everything... Slowly the memories of the epic prank, Seth and the frills, and getting confronted by the shortest Elite on staff were flooding back into mind. With the shirt off, he threw it off towards his right. He then began to feel up towards the back of his visor. The wires that were normally looped there were dangling loose, cut in the middle.
Ah, so she must have been trying to remove my tech, got annoyed, then cut the wires in the back after cutting my face. He was quick on the uptake, even after being unconscious for so long. Now curious about his surroundings, he began to crawl around on the ground, fingers reaching in front of the rest of his body, feeling his way around rather than relying on his sight. Eventually, his fingers found a wall. It was not the same as the bars in the brig, though the wall was just as cold as the bars. The wall was solid, probably made of steel or iron.
Solitary confinement, eh?
With a slight laugh, he began to remove the pants he was wearing, stripping himself down to merely his boxers. It wasn't like anybody else was going to see (though he was mentally gagging because he KNEW that Kunai technically put those on him, since he didn't usually wear such under his jumpsuit).
The next thing to escape his lips would have surprised anyone listening, if there were any people around. However, he suspected the only thing watching him at best was a security camera.
"01001100 01001111 01001100 00101100 00100000 01001101 01010101 01000011 01001000 00100000 01000010 01000101 01010100 01010100 01000101 01010010 00100001"
A grin crept upon his features. Only the visored man could make something such as solitary confinement into a game.
"00110001 00110011 00110111 00100111 00110101 00100000 01100111 00110011 00110111 00100000 00110111 01101000 00110001 00110101 00100000 00110101 00110111 01000000 01010010 00110111 00110011 01000100"
He definitely hoped whatever surveillance equipment there had sound recording. For the next however many days he was stuck in that pit most people would have called a "hell hole," he spent speaking strictly in ones and zeros. He ate when food was brought (and he was amused they brought hot sauce, even if it was crappy quality), drank when he needed to drink, and took care of his business when he needed to. Yet, the rest of the time, he spent speaking strictly in binary. The final product after the introduction would result in a code for a program.
God save the soul who was curious enough to try that program.
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Posted: Wed Sep 08, 2010 7:54 pm
Entry found_
His sentence was up. From her office, the Elite Agent Kunai sat, flicking a knife about her finger and waiting. She had waited plenty long for his sentence to be up, but not without work. She had been shot, she had been told to take things easy, and though she had been continually training with target practice, she had somehow managed to find the time to research this computer hacker thoroughly. And now that his sentence was up, the first thing 1337 was scheduled to do was meet with Kunai.
Literally, it was the first thing planned. As she sat there, a knock came at the door. When she gave permission with a simple "Come," in entered two large figures. One was 1337, who was not wearing a shirt at all. This was not a surprise at all. At least he had the dignity to put his pants back on. The other was merely an escort, who had much more meat on his bones to ensure 1337 couldn't overwhelm him physically (somehow). Even upon entering, 1337 was proving that he was unable to handle this simple meeting like an adult, snickering under his breath something about her saying "come." The escort was smart enough, saluting Kunai the moment he set foot in the room, but 1337 was not nearly as respectful.
"I take it the reason you haven't saluted yet, Grunt, is because you are currently blind and unable to see the fact you are in the presence of an Elite." Kunai's voice was absolutely deadpan as she walked up to the pair. She looked to the escort. "You, Grunt who saluted, are dismissed."
"Thank you m'am!" For being such a large man, the escort did not seem to have much of a backbone. He was gone perhaps two seconds after the dismissal.
1337 stood there with a big grin on his face. He could hear as the office door was shut behind him. In a displeased tone, he could hear the Elite's voice again. "I am waiting, Grunt 1337."
In a lazy fashion, the long gangly man offered a salute that seemed more like a perverted gesture coming from him. However, it was a salute, which more than likely was better than anything Elite Agent Seth was ever able to get. Kunai made a mental note of such. She walked to her chair and took a seat before giving the order "Find a chair and take a seat."
It was certainly easier said than done, considering that 1337's eyesight had been essentially turned off for however long he had been in solitary confinement. He wasn't a Zubat. He wasn't adjusted to finding things without his sight. However, with the direction given, he awkwardly began to move around, hand reaching out to his side slightly, feeling for some sort of chair. He did manage to initially bump his hand against the corner of a box. However, using his better judgment (which surprisingly, he did have), he continued on until he found the arm of a chair. He slid into it, then waited for further instruction.
"Do explain why you are not wearing your standard uniform shirt, Grunt." Kunai's voice was demanding, crisp, but strangely without emotion.
1337 still remained there with a grin upon his face. His logic for such things was always simple. "It's uncomfortable. I don't like shirts that make me feel stuffy. They don't exactly make the uniforms outta' something that breathes, ya know."
The pink-haired girl stared intensely at the man in the visor. She remained absolutely silent as she mentally processed the fact this Grunt was so informal, even in the presence of a higher ranking Agent. Rather abruptly, she acknowledged the information he offered with her own. "It would explain why you wear that jumpsuit, though I did find it rather odd you were not wearing any undergarments of any sort."
With a loud cackle, 1337 pointed towards the direction of the voice, clapping his hand a couple times. "I KNEW IT!! I KNEW YOU WERE THE ONE TO UNDRESS ME!!! OH ROFL!!! I FEEL SO DIRTY!!"
Despite the outburst, the Elite continued onward with the conversation. "Tell me how you enjoyed your time in Solitary Confinement."
It took 1337 about 15 seconds (which was 5 times longer than what Kunai would have preferred) to calm down enough to finally answer the question, but he at least did answer the question. "Oh, let's see, woke up with cuts on my face and a uniform that was tighter than Seth's a** and my tech damaged. Couldn't see, though I still can't see, but I eventually figured out where I was." There was a pause as if he was trying to think of the proper way to phrase the next part. "Hmmm... you can say that I did manage to find a way to keep myself entertained."
Where as 1337 seemed to be beaming, Kunai was scowling slightly. She momentarily paused to pick up the glass of orange juice upon her desk, take a sip, then returned to looking at the man's cocky expression. "As my sources tell me, you were essentially programming during that whole time. No tech or fancy tools, and you were still coding. Does this sound correct?"
1337's grin momentarily seemed to grow a bit more sinister. "Did anybody actually run the program I wrote?"
"Considering where you were at the moment, more than likely the program was only going to be destructive, so it was in our best interest to record the data, but not run it."
"Awwwww!" The man sounded disappointed, but he still had that smile. "I don't feel loved anymore!"
There was a momentary pause again before the pink-haired Elite mentioned "You should be grateful that I keep my knives absolutely clean, Grunt. Your wounds seem to have healed up without leaving any scars."
Playfully, 1337 tossed out a simple "You are a woman after my heart. Too bad you aren't physically my type." Though they both knew he couldn't see, he still seemed to toss a glance towards Kunai as if he was judging her reaction.
The girl usually would have been scowling and started off in some sort of angry power-trip rant. Yet, she didn't give him such satisfaction. She had read upon Grunt 1337's personnel files. She came into this meeting knowing how she had to keep herself in check. Instead of giving him the anger or reactions of someone who had their buttons pushed, Kunai plainly addressed the issue altogether. "You like to make people angry, don't you, Grunt?"
If there was something he wasn't expecting, it was probably this. He was more adjusted to angry chicks telling him off, or Seth attempting to do anything to make 1337's life miserable. For once, 1337 didn't have a snappy comeback, since such a straight forward reaction was foreign to him.
His silence was all she needed to continue along the warpath she had set up. "I may not have been in this facility long, but never underestimate my power of observation, Grunt. I have seen your type before. You cause unnecessary trouble. You like to be the center of attention. You will do whatever it takes to be in that spotlight, whether it be bad or good." She paused, then clinked her knife against the edge of her glass to accent her next point. "You are also intelligent. I have found that people who are intelligent, but like being in the center of attention are the ones who get bored the most easily. So, when you pull a stunt like the one leading to your solitary confinement, it isn't because you are out to make Agent Seth's life miserable at all. It is simply because you are a bored child not knowing what to do with yourself, so you do something destructive instead."
Though 1337 had managed to keep that grin on his face, his jaw had dropped at the assessment.
"Does that sound accurate to you, Grunt?"
For a moment, there was just silence, but then 1337 just began to laugh. It wasn't a small laugh, it was a hearty one that seemed to fill up the room. It was almost like the Elite had just told the best joke in the world and he was letting her know such.
"Do you find something funny about what I said, Grunt?" Once more, her tone was deadpan and in check.
"Naw, naw, naw!" he managed to get out. "If I didn't laugh at myself, I'd be dead by now!" Eventually, he ran his hand through his hair, as if thinking. Then, without much thought, he mentioned "Shrimpy seems to know more than she lets on!"
The nickname seemed to go ignored, though being referred as some small crustacean from the ocean was probably the worst sort of nickname she could have earned for herself. "I am surprised nobody managed to catch onto your initial promotion, Grunt."
1337 still looked amused, but his attention had been captured again. "Oh? Do tell, do tell!"
Upfront as usual, the girl simply began to tell him her perspective on the whole ordeal. "Very well. On file, the explanation for your initial promotion to Agent status was vague. Seth demoted you based off of his own ego I suspect. It leads me to wonder if he really deserves his current rank, due to his lack of control of his own emotions. Regardless, the way I see it, you more than likely were bored and decided to test your skills. Considering your department, it shouldn't have been hard to guess you'd attempt hacking into the system and changing one or two details about yourself on the personnel files. Easiest promotion anybody could get is it they promote themselves." She stopped speaking for long enough to grab another sip of her juice. "Am I in the ballpark?"
The shirtless grunt burst out laughing again. However, this time, Kunai was not going to get an answer, no sense of confirmation. The man just laughed and laughed and laughed, but who could blame him? This girl had just dissed Seth in a sense. Little scary Kunai had just INSULTED big scary Seth.
"You will never get any recognition in Seth's department. You will just continue to be bored and unchallenged. That is why, as of 0700 hours, you will be joining my department."
The man was still laughing, but he did manage to cough out a "Wait, what?!" It took a few moments, but due to his own interest in the potential response, he quieted down, listening intently.
"I will clarify right now that you will only be a part of my department on a part-time basis. The rest of the time, you will still be in Seth's department. However, I do need a tech-savvy Rocket in my department." As if she was able to read his mind, she mentioned "You might ask why I'd need a techie instead of somebody who dresses up and plays a role? Very simple. For authenticity sakes. If I send an agent to some sort of mission where they are going to be doing a long-term stakeout, it would be more believable that my agent was whoever they claimed to be if they had the papers and documentation to back them up. Maybe I am showing too much faith in your abilities, but I suspect you could hack into a system and make changes that make one of my agents more valid." She paused for a moment, then address another reason why she'd want a Grunt such as 1337 in her department. "I also want you in my department so I may exploit you."
It was a rather blunt confession. "Your less than conventional ways of dealing with reprimand actually make you an excellent candidate for my program. Put yourself in my position. You train a Rocket to be an excellent undercover agent. Yet, for some odd reason, they get caught. Nobody is perfect. It wouldn't do Team Rocket any good to have an Agent with no spine. In a torture situation, most people would crack. I try to recruit agents who do not react correctly to reprimand or physical abuse. You fit this category quite well. It is these individuals who can withstand torture and keep the secrets of the organization safe." It was all for the glory of Team Rocket, after all.
She stood up and walked up next to the computer hacker in the chair, turning away from him as she spoke. She crossed her arms behind her back. "You will find that I reward Rockets in my department based upon skill level, not based upon my personal preference to their personality type. If I based promotions merely based upon people I liked, then nobody in my department would ever make it past trainee."
1337 interjected with a simple "I take it you don't like anybody then."
In a flat tone, the Elite confessed "I tolerate people. That is all."
The man seemed to tuck this information away in his mind. "Alright... since I ain't got a choice, I guess I'll go along with this. So, zero one seven nine, you have to tell me what you thought about it." A rather large grin seemed to lighten up his features, but in a rather mischievous manner.
Kunai did not react. It was obviously what 1337 wanted. Cooly, she replied "I take it you read my files in your spare time?"
1337's reply? "Like you did with mine, Shrimpy! Just sucks about how many failed experiments came before you!" If only his wink could have been seen by the world. Oh well, nothing wrong with emphasizing the gesture with a slight tilt of the head. He then clarified what it was. "So, how'd ya like my junk? I mean, ya totally had to see it if you were the one who dressed me!" He seemed to be beaming. He was proud of his junk.
"It was male genitalia." Such a bland response, but that was all 1337 would get. Finally turning to face the Grunt, she then told him something he didn't know.
"Enjoy your last 5 minutes of not being in my department." Apparently 0700 hours was 5 minutes away.
And for those last remaining 5 minutes, the computer hacker slumped in his chair, laughing like the world was a joke.
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Posted: Sun Nov 13, 2011 2:28 pm
Entry found_
1337 had been lucky enough to merely break his shin bone. He wasn't stupid to realize he had come out lucky. It was the sort of injury that inconvenienced him moving about the Rocket facility, but it wasn't going to prevent him from doing his work. He had fully functioning hands, and his mind was as clear as it usually was.
Of course, the cast was kinda ugly. It was hard to make an attractive cast though. Some people opted for particular colors for the wrapping, but that didn't make it any less ugly. According to the doctor, the break had been very clean, and it wouldn't really cause him any sort of problems in the future. If the bone had been shattered, that would have been a different case. One leg weaker than the other, possible limp, all that jazz. The hacker left the infirmary grinning in his usual manner.
It was odd to see a man who was hobbling down the hallway with crutches with that large a grin on his face. There seemed to be a hint of gloom in the atmosphere due to the loss of a life in the mission. The hacker didn't really know who Aila was, and he honestly didn't care. It was one of the many women in the facility, but she was too young for his tastes. She was just another set of stats to him, another bit of data he'd eventually have to input into the system. One had to wonder if he would have even cared if he had known the girl. Was there anybody that he would have been close enough to that he'd actually let that grin of his falter if they were put in danger?
He hobbled his way along until he eventually made it back to his room. After a bit of awkward struggling to get into the door by himself, he made his way to his desk which had a pile of tech in a box under it. Plopping himself into the chair tiredly, he pulled the box out. Apparently the crutches had winded him a bit more than he suspected as he panted into the contents he sorted through. "...if I know 0179 well enough... she'll be wanting one of these..."
Perhaps it was to Elite Agent Kunai's advantage that the hacker was technically a part of her department. There was at least one person who was unaffected by the mourning and grief clouding up the facility. Eventually he managed to pull out a headset. "That shrimp will be going stir crazy in less than a day..." He tossed out two Pokeballs and soon enough two Porygon-Zs were there hovering from side to side, almost mirroring each other.
"Units OMG and WTF... Locate Elite Agent Kunai in the Infirmary and give her this. I will be down to set up her laptop to sync with it so she can use voice command to get some work done." He'd probably also give her the gift of his used underwear from the mission. She had been the one to force him to wear it, so he was going to give it back to her now. He didn't have any need for it now that the mission was over.
The two Pokemon bobbed up and down slightly before they both reached in to claim the headpiece. Once both had an appendage attached to it, they both hovered out of the still open door, almost like they were hand-in-hand.
"...alright... time for some fun..." With that, the hacker pulled out his favorite gloves and prepared to do some work. Work was fun, and fun was work. Life was such a complex thing, but for the hacker, it was only as complex as one let it be.
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Posted: Fri May 04, 2012 10:01 pm
Entry found_
She was on his bed. Staring at him intensely while still managing to make herself seemingly comfortable. She was lounged out, her eyes seeming to challenge the man who sat back in his chair, looking back at her.
The man's eyes were unable to be seen, but it almost seemed like she could see right past the metal object masking his sight from the world. He smiled, as he usually did, but he was not at ease. His teeth were pressed together tightly, forced into place. It looked casual, but it was not. He spoke slowly, almost as if he was trying to lure her in towards him.
"...normally I love it when a b*tch gives me bedroom eyes... I think you might be the exception to the rule..."
She narrowed her eyes at him, seeming almost content with his blunt assessment of their situation. It was almost a bittersweet victory for her. She didn't want to be here, but she was here. He didn't want her here, but there he was still smiling at her like he owned her.
In a wide, loose gesture, the hacker ended up slapping his own thigh. It was an invitation, one that went without a verbal request. It caused her dark brow to loft up curiously. He... wanted her on his lap?
It was an odd request, but she was not one to ignore it when it intrigued her in a strange manner. She stretched out before rising to her feet, hopping slightly as she prepared to touch the ground. She stepped forward, managing to maintain a vague amount of dignity as she approached him and his lap-destination. She stopped just short of him, looking at the man once more.
She loathed this man with all of her being, but at the same time she couldn't help but be intrigued by him. The covering he had over his eyes might have been part of her intrigue, but there was so much more she had been able to observe in such a short time that made him different. It was a curiosity, and a morbid one at that.
With that realization, the Zorua hopped onto the man's lap, her eyes seeming to glow brighter in the dimly lit room.
1337 was still grinning, even if he did have some concern about those eyes on the Pokemon. He didn't have the notes on what had been done to this Pokemon in the lab he had stolen her from. Was this glow on her fur and at her eyes merely genetic, or was there some other more hazardous reason for the intense neon green that touched her features? His concern was self-centered, and to him, there was nothing wrong with such vanity. The Zorua could be dying and that wasn't even the basis for his concern.
"...something tells me... that even with all the documentation of your inability to do a proper illusion... that Shrimpy-pie will tell me t'train ya... pointless... right?"
The words were left to loom in the air for a bit as the Zorua remained quiet, staring at his visor intensely again. Eventually she barked out a small "Zo" in response. Humans didn't understand what Pokemon said. He'd assume she agreed with him, when in fact she had disagreed. She was trainable and she was capable. However, this human, the one that went by numbers, would never truly know. Only one human had truly understood her.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, his voice whispered "You have beautiful eyes" just for her.
She sighed, trying to maintain her cool in an indifferent manner while seated upon the hacker's lap. The man that she truly loved like a soul mate was now out of her life. He was shipping back to Kanto since he was only stationed out in Kodo for a short while. Science would continue another day without her, no matter how much she wished it wasn't true.
The hacker took the bait for now, since he did not have any Pokemon out and about that could testify otherwise. "We're on the same page then... We could try bullsh*ttin' this sort of stuff, but that b*tch would catch us..."
He paused thoughtfully, jostling his leg in a manner which the Zorua needed to readjust herself so she could stay balanced.
"...I'll come up with some sort of arrangement... the less I have to deal with ya... the better I think..."
The Zorua's fur bristled slightly, but it seemed to go ignored by the visor-wearing man. This time, she did agree with him with a slightly sharper sounding "Zo!"
The less they had to deal with each other, the better. It would probably be the only thing they'd ever truly agree on.
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