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(no subject)

Who: Luke and Reaver
Where: Goldenrod
When: November 12th, late evening.
Summary: Luke gets his Pokemon stolen.
Rating: PG-13 or higher. There's definitely violence.
Log:

[Today was busy as usual. The good kind of busy, of course. Luke spent a few hours training some of his Pokemon, running errands, playing in the park, the usual stuff. Every once in a while though, he'll accidentally stay out past curfew and tonight was one of those nights.

He didn't want another lecture from the Professor, so he decides to try and take the quickest way home - through some of the alleys in Goldenrod. He's had plenty of time to get used to the layout of Goldenrod and which is the fastest way home. It should be easy, right? So he'll be navigating through Goldenrod as quickly as he can to get home.]

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[The city does have a good amount to offer late at night, and Reaver can't say he isn't grateful to be back in it; he's spent practically forever in the utterly Skorm-blessed Ilex Forest on the way back from Azalea, and as amusing as that place was, he has no real interest in leaving civilization for the next several days.

However, the fact that his travelling partners have apparently seen fit to gallivant off...somewhere - Logan to that insipid tournament that started about a week ago, Barry to...wherever the hell it was Barry had gone for the time being, Reaver couldn't exactly say that he cared very much at the moment - is rendering him rather restless indeed; clearing his head is obviously the best option, and who knows? Perhaps an opportunity will present itself.

And present itself it does, in one way or another, as opportunities are wont to do; they're often what you make of them, after all, and alarmingly short teenagers with what appears to be very little common sense can have quite a bit made of them, if one knows what they're doing.]

You there, boy. If I may...?

[Let's see how he responds to that, shall we? If he doesn't, Reaver can always resort to force, but he does hate it when potential altercations are predictable from the start - let's see if this one entertains him first.]

[Luke skids to a halt. He's in a hurry to get home, he can already picture the Professor standing in the doorway waiting for him to come back. And Luke doesn't want to explain yet again why he's late.

But, a gentleman does always stop to help those in need, so with a sigh he'll stop to turn around.]

Um, can I help you, sir?

[...oh, goodness, a cute one.]

In a manner of speaking, yes. A trainer, aren't you?

[Luke nods enthusiastically.]

Mhm! I've been one for about two years now, if not longer. But ah, I'm afraid the battling will have to wait until tomorrow. I'm running late and I have to get home soon.

[He just laughs a bit at that, the sound dark.]

Ah, no, no, my dear boy, it's not a battle I'm after, per se - although I must admit two years is rather impressive. Am I to assume you're not from this world originally?

[Not after a battle? Was he wanting just a chat? Well, Luke could help him out there, he guesses.]

Of course I'm not! I'm from London actually. I don't think I've even met that many folks who are originally from this world.

[Well, Reaver's technically British, he's just...not familiar with London. Not exactly surprising, given that he's from around 1750 and still calling the place "Albion," to say nothing of the fact that the monarchy was just established within the last fifty years...

look we're all British people here is the point]

Well, I can't say I've heard of London, myself, though I've no doubt you've managed to adapt to this world quite fine; a young gentleman like yourself most likely has more than a few rather powerful creatures on them, am I wrong - it certainly would be unfortunate for you to be wandering these back alleys otherwise.

[That choice of words is entirely accidental, but it works for now; Reaver has approximately zero sense of subtlety on a good day, but he's...attempting, at least.]

Oh well, sure. I'm pretty well-protected! Like I said, I've been at this for a couple of years now.

And I know Goldenrod like the back of my hand, navigating through here is no problem.

[But something doesn't quite feel right here. And he's still in a hurry to get home.]

If I may ask, sir, why are you interested in knowing about me?

[That will just get you another smirk, you know.]

Let's say that I like to know what I'm up against, my dear.

[There's a metal walking stick that he tends to carry, more for decoration than anything else, though it's well-suited to the occasional...horrendously violent purposes that he can think to use it for; he's been leaning against it this whole time, not drawing much attention to it or toying with it for once, although when he does move it, it's rather obviously for one of those, ah, latter purposes. He'll settle for aiming reasonably high on his target for now, a quick lash against the chest to catch him off balance and attempt to take the wind out of him; that would be rather straightforwardly followed by a sharp downswing to take his legs out from under him.

His speed is good, perhaps surprisingly so for someone so tall; the heightened reflexes of the Hero of Skill haven't suffered much here, that much is certain.]

What-!

[He lets out an undignified yelp, feeling pain and the air being knocked out of him before he feels himself hit the ground, sprawled on his back. He tries to scramble away, a panicked look on his face when he realizes he's being attacked.]

[Reaver responds to that with a soft tch noise before he plants the end of that stick into Luke's chest, pinning him down to the ground.]

I wouldn't suggest doing anything too foolish, darling - at least, not unless you want to make this interesting. Although if you take that option, it will turn out far more interesting for me than it will for you, believe you me.

W-what are you going to do?

[His voice comes out as a squeak. Even though he's pinned, he'll still try to squirm away.]

Well, I imagine we can do this the easy way, or we can do this the hard way - either way, it's getting done, so I wouldn't bother trying to argue that, were I you.

[He'll just be leaning forward, putting a bit more pressure on that stick.]

Either hand over these creatures you were telling me about, or I'm going to take them from you.

[Luke's eyes widen. Take his Pokemon?]

N-no, you can't!

[He grunts in pain at the pressure on his chest, but now he's fighting a bit more desperately to get away. He'll try to shove the stick away from his chest.]

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