Operation: Express Car; [train plot log]

[these_balls]

Who: Everyone who wants to participate!
Where: Goldenrod City, the Magnet Train, Saffron City.
When: November 23rd, 11AM-5PM
Summary: Heist on the Magnet Train!
Rating: Might go up to PG-13, possibly R if exceptional violence of swearing occurs.
Log:

They've spent the last few days preparing. He wasn't sure at first, how this was going to turn out, but the Team is confident. They are confident and now he, Archer, is also confident. He has no reason to expect failure; he tells himself, even if they fail, this will cement them back in the public eye. A threat again. It makes his collar hot to think.

He reviews the plans again, Petrel's notes and schematics, engineering details. Phase 2 will be the most delicate, but he's confident in the abilities of the recruits. The aliens, the outsiders, are strange, but useful. They have skills no other Grunt would possess. Archer recognizes he has been given a tool, and only a fool would fail to use it.

At 9:30AM on November 23rd, Archer sends a message through the Rocket Network. It is short, and simple, and jubilant.

Operation: Express Car START

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It's a nice day out, considering. Cold, yes, but the kind of cold that buries itself deep in the lungs and blows the mind into crisp clarity. Cheeks are red, movements brisk to retain heat, and around Goldenrod's white-dusted Magnet Train station, the energy is thick enough to taste. People in their thick winter coats press together, some alone, some with families and friends, most with their trusted pokémon. The larger creatures are returned to their balls, tragically fated to miss the voyage, while smaller breeds are held in their trainers' arms or scurrying around their ankles.

The station attendants are supervising while customers pass through, touching the microchipped Rail Pass to the card readers and moving in slow, sluggish trails through the gates. There is no shoving; the atmosphere seems too cheery for it, excitement manifesting in the form of loud, vigorous conversation. The train itself is gloriously slick, smooth and polished as a new bullet or a freshly-minted coin, humming with power. We ask our passengers to please mind their electric-types, reminds the stationmaster over the PA, as we seek to avoid any trouble or inconvenience during the ride.

Once you've passed the gate, find a seat and stow away your luggage. Relax, unwind; it's a long six hours ahead.

[[ ooc: I kindly ask that players please DO NOT POST until all the subthreads have been made. Thank you!

GO FOR IT! Remeber to tag yourselves in!

NOTE: YOU CAN NPC ROCKETS IF YOU CAN'T NAB A PC ROCKET FOR PLOTTY FUNTIEMS. ]]

Comments

[hackintheaster.livejournal.com]

[He doesn't jump when Gorthan speaks to him, though he was quite close. He shrugs, noticing how Gorthan's hands are shaking.]

Thinking about the bomb. [His eyes move to some of the other rockets in the room before coming back.] How it's not all that...I don't know, necessary? [He shrugs, playing it off like he doesn't really care all that much. He's following orders, that's what they do. Rockets follow orders.

Then he motions to Gorthan's hands.] You okay there?

[hasearthbooks.livejournal.com]

Indeed. A fake would probably have worked just as well - such is the power of fear. But, orders are orders.

[Also, there are people who just like playing with things that blow up. He can mention one or two Phase 2 Rockets who are currently having the time of their lives. He's rather obviously not one of them.]

And I am reasonably fine. Thank you for your concern.

[He'll check his hands - still shaky. Dear Evron, why.]

[hackintheaster.livejournal.com]

[He nods, looking back around at everyone there with them. Roughly ten minutes before everything started going to hell.]

Do you think there are escape measures? For us, if they have to blow the train?

[Robin can see his hands still shaking and wonders if it's the bomb or what. Demeanor-wise, Gorthan looks fine.]

[hasearthbooks.livejournal.com]

Of course there are. [Though he can't quite name them at the moment. Though given his precedents, he'd likely survive jumping off a moving train.] What makes you doubt that?

[His tone is a little harsher now. It's not like he doesn't have any doubts of his own - he does - but he's not prepared to side with an eventual traitor should he discover one.]

[hackintheaster.livejournal.com]

[Robin turns back to the bomb, working at connecting some of the wires despite his first instinct to keep them disconnected. He keeps his eyes down when he answers, realizing he's getting into dangerous waters.]

Because we weren't briefed on one.

[hasearthbooks.livejournal.com]

Well, that just means we'll have to improvise, should things head down that path. It's not that big of a problem, is it?

[Good. He's working. At least that's a good sign. Gorthan resumes working in turn. The pause was a good idea - his hands are a little more steady now.

... But when he thinks of all those other people, and Pokémon, and children in the other cars...

... The steadiness in his hands doesn't last longer than two or three minutes.]

[hackintheaster.livejournal.com]

It'd probably depend on what you consider a problem.

[He shrugs before completing one of the connections, moving on down the body of the bomb to check the connection to the detonator without actually touching anything.]

Have you worked with explosives before?

[hasearthbooks.livejournal.com]

No, I have not. But the training we received was sufficient.

My main field of expertise is... slightly different. Though one may say that it, too, ultimately consists of constructing weapons.

[... Was he wrong about Robin just now? Maybe he's having so many doubts, he's hoping somebody else is having them as well. Has his mutation rendered him capable of wishful thinking, too?]

[hackintheaster.livejournal.com]

I guess so.

[Everything else seems to be in order, for the bomb to explode. He's working through what wires he needs to fiddle with to defuse it, but that would involve getting some more alone time with the bomb. Alone time that is not going to happen any time soon. He checks his watch and starts to feel a little uneasy - it's getting too close to drop time. He's running out of time. But stay calm, Robin. Don't blow your cover.]

What did you make, if you don't mind me asking?

[hasearthbooks.livejournal.com]

[He remains quiet for a moment, wondering whether to tell the truth or a lie. He finds himself wondering what this person's reaction to the truth will be, and at one point the question becomes too interesting. So the truth it is.]

Mutant warriors.

[hackintheaster.livejournal.com]

[The information does make him pause for a moment, look over at Gorthan before turning back to what he was doing. Not the craziest thing he's ever heard, that's for sure.]

Did you create them from scratch or experiment with subjects?

[hasearthbooks.livejournal.com]

[He smiles enigmatically.]

I'd be pretty incompetent if I couldn't do both, don't you think?

[hackintheaster.livejournal.com]

[Despite the fact that is totally creepy and wrong, Robin can't help but feel the slightest bit impressed. And now he's curious.]

What kind of mutations did you give them?

[hasearthbooks.livejournal.com]

Any and all that were useful, or simply needed at the time. It's a long story - I'll be sure to recount it once the circumstances are less pressing.

[Vague answer is vague.]

[hackintheaster.livejournal.com]

Yeah, probably for the best.

[And now his curious has reached a dangerous level of 'I am going to find you after this and ask you again'. If it doesn't interfere with his whole...ahem. Plan. Yeah. That.]

[hasearthbooks.livejournal.com]

I'm Gorthan, by the way. And your name is...?

[hackintheaster.livejournal.com]

Robin.