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 Posted: Thu Aug 11, 2011 5:50 pm
"How was I supposed to know it was her best friend?" Izaya retorted. "If I had known, then I would have taken the other one. Good grief; all this commotion over a pokemon." By this time, the grunt had grumpily tuned his back on Jerome and started taking things out of the boxes filled with his belongings. He didn't want to think about friends or what they meant to people, especially not now. Why, of all things, did Jerome have to bring up that as his argument?
He was silent for a time, unfolding his clothes and putting them in hangers. "You may not have been an amatuer on the streets, Jerome, but here in this place is a different story. This is not a gang and it's not a family - it's a criminal organization. Disobey their orders and they will kill you, no questions asked."
The ex-runner made a point there, about having nothing more now but his life to lose. It made Izaya pause in his work, pondering the sentence he had been left with. Before Jerome departed, however, Mairu peered around the corner of Izaya's roommate's closet, a pokeball in her mouth. "Purr?" she questioned, going over to drop the ball by her trainer's feet. He blinked and picked it up. "Oi, Jer," he called, staring at the ball, "Where did Bro get that from?"
Mairu looked sheepish and stared at her paws as she sat at Izaya's feet. He frowned at her. "Where's the last one?" he asked his pokemon. "There should be four. Kururi's, yours, Celty's, and the one I stole. Which is which?"
The dark-type feline purred softly and rubbed up against Izaya. "Purrloin Loin Puuuurloin." From the sounds of it, she didn't know. Besides, the grunt figured she wouldn't have risked not seeing her favorite Espeon again by disobeying his direct order to her. He kicked Mairu aside in disgust and walked after Jerome and his pokemon. "Wait up."
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Posted: Fri Aug 12, 2011 1:47 am
Jerome didn't get very far before he heard that he was being called after.
Picking at one of the bandages on his face, as if annoyed to be having it there, he paused to glance back where he had come, eyebrows raised in a puzzled expression. Successfully peeling off one of the sticky patches before answering.
"No Idea." Than looked over at the ghost type.
He knew Izaya was missing a few pokeball from his newest Pokemon, he didn't know what one Bro' had found.
The Gangar glanced from Izaya, back over to Jerome, who gave him a calm gesture by jerking his chin up, hands busy crumpling up the sticky bandage together.
The Gangar shrugging as well before he opened his mouth Wide, and extended a long tongue, typical of his species. This was how the ghost presented the pokeball he had in his mouth, in which Jerome reached over and pulled it off, long string of saliva dripping messily from it. A fact that Bro' looked rather proud about.
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Posted: Fri Aug 12, 2011 10:04 am
The informant raised his brows at Bro. "And what if you swallowed that?" he asked the self-satisfied ghost-type, smirking. He was actually pretty impressed that the Gengar had managed to find one of Mairu's hiding places, because although the room he shared with the other Grunt was small, he hadn't been able to discover even one himself since she'd hidden them. If only he had a ghost-type who could slip through things like -
Oh, wait. He did.
"Celtyyyy," he called in a mockingly sweet tone, looking toward the Keystone sitting on his bedside table. A trickle of soft, brown smoke appeared to leak from the crevices of the stone in response. "Would you be a good girl - unlike some pokemon - and go find me the last pokeball Mairu hid? It should be in this room somewhere.
The Spiritomb, who was by now getting used to cleaning up after the twins' messes, nodded drowsily and levitated her rock to disappear under the bed.
"Even if she finds it," Izaya continued, looking back at the slobbery mess in Jerome's hands, "There's the matter of learning which ball it is. Any ideas?" There was no way he was going to risk letting out another of Izumi's crazy steel-types in his room. No. Way.
"What if I come with you and bring all the pokeballs to Izumi?" Nakura suggested half in jest. "She can choose, and if she picks the wrong one, then I get to keep them all."
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Posted: Fri Aug 12, 2011 11:44 am
"Hm?" Jerome questioned to Izaya, then looked at Jerome, "He would have dug it out."
Oh the joys of having Ghost types, they do some of the most peculiar things.
Jerome was pretty used to it by now, if the fact that he was now cleaning the pokeball off on his shirt, before tossing it back over to Izaya was any indication.
"Ya ain't into the idea of just openin' them up?"
Well, with reason.... he would actually not like the idea of opening up Wheatley's ball, only to have the steel type see him in a rocket uniform in a Rocket base, than go home to Izumi.
Jerome did not want that.
Bro, having looked pretty proud of himself, looked back toward Izaya's room when he called to Celty, than zipped back himself to see if he couldn't help... or cause more trouble. who knew.
So when Izaya brought up a new option, Jerome paused to think about this, observing his fellow Rocket seriously.
"... Ait, that works."
Izaya might not be really aware of this, since from what Jerome understood, he was new in all his pokemon. but someone who has owned a pokemon for a long time, was usually really good at picking out their own pokeballs from the wear marks and scratches on it.
Plus with as good as Izumi was at paying attention to details on mechanics Jerome had no doubt in his mind that she would be able to pick out her own pokeball.
"You sure you wanna come along?"
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Posted: Fri Aug 12, 2011 1:25 pm
Izaya cast Jerome an incredulous look as he hadn't been the one he had addressed the question to. Now, though, he was curious. "How would you know? Has he done it before?"
The informant caught the ball as it was tossed to him, wearing a deadpan expression. "Are you kidding? After what her last one almost did to me, who knows what her 'best friend' would do. I'm not taking any unnecessary risks."
Dodging to one side as the Gengar darted back into his room, he leaned against his door frame once more and watched him, wondering what he was up to. "That the plan, then?" Nakura asked, not taking his eyes off the mischievous purple-and-green ghost. "Fine. As soon as she finds the last ball, let's go."
He looked over when Jerome asked his final question. Izaya offered a crooked smile. "Sure I'm sure. I'm not going to miss this. Celty! Did you find it yet?"
The Spiritomb appeared from under the bed, rolling a ball along after her. She greeted Bro with a cautious whirring, but moved aside as her trainer came over to pick up the object. With all four pokeballs finally in his possession, the grunt stuck them in his pockets and started to head out.
Mairu quickly returned to her ball within one of the pockets, not wanting to be left alone without Kururi. Celty, on the other hand, shrunk back into her Keystone and levitated back to her spot on the bedside table. Satisfied, their trainer closed the door and locked in behind him, not bothering to wait for Bro. He was too eager to get the whole thing over with, the Gengar had irked him somewhat, and besides, he could turn himself intangible to slip right through the locked room. "Shall we?" he asked Jerome, not bothering to wait for him or an answer as he brusquely made his way down the hall.
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Posted: Fri Aug 12, 2011 4:31 pm
Jerome returned the look with a raised brow expression of his own, casually playing with his lip piercing with his lower teeth. What? Izaya excited Bro to actually answer him?
"Oh yeah, used to do it all the time."
as for why he did it? Jerome didn't explain. It might have been obvious though.
Jerome crossed his arms, waiting calmly while the ghosts did some searching, a soft frown playing over his lips as he looked like he was thinking about something.
"Ganna throw on a different shirt" he said when they finally found the last ball, and Izaya announced his invite to leave.
The man was already starting down the hall though, so Jerome just walked over him.
Bro, as the smaller man might have suspected, ghosted through the door, with his arms crossed, and not looking very amused.
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