Post by Hataro Satsuhaji on Mar 27, 2013 21:14:01 GMT -6
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Love the picture <3333 "Because when I arrive" I, I'll bring the fire Make you come alive I can take you higher. HATAROHataro used Rock Smash on a cracked boulder. It was amazing. He didn't need a reason to be here, but if the ocasion arose when he would need one, he had one. She had sent him here for one simple purpose: to look for clues on how to handle this new event. Hataro didn't really want to think about it. The hideous thing had gone out of control, and Hataro was lucky enough that his own pokemon had escaped infection. He wasn't even completely sure that he himself had managed to escape infection. As far as he knew, he felt fine. He knew very little about the virus, but he had seen what it did to the test pokemon. It was more than a little disturbing. He couldn't help but wonder about every out of place emotion or urge that came over him. Even his instincts given to him by his Mightyena blood put him on edge, and he seriously considered his true level of sanity, not knowing if he was on the verge of insanity, about to be taken over by the virus at any moment. Hataro walked slowly about the ruins, though not noticing anything out of the ordinary. He had no leads to go from. He stared at a cracked boulder, and his senses caught a strange scent. With a small growl, he smashed the boulder into pieces, clearing it completely and scattering its pieces about the area. With another growl, this time of frustration, he realized it was only old ashes mixed with long expired and used up gun powder. Hataro stroked his hair from his face, and took a deep breath. Did he fear that getting angry could trigger the virus to take over? He wasn't even sure if he was infected or not, and the paranoia was about to drive him insane faster than the virus would, if he even were infected.
o o c || Yay~! I used up all my muse again! xD w o r d s || 305 t a g s || Zach played by Leap, open!
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Post by Zachary Hazel on Jun 4, 2013 7:40:09 GMT -6
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,400,true] | [atrb=background,http://i.imgur.com/WNXbUjs.png]Zachary hardly bothered himself by going out of his way to investigate phenomina spoken of between the locals, and he hardly bothered himself with even listening to what the locals even said, much less when he to go see for himself what they were talking about. But this was a... special case.
Clouds. Clouds were everywhere. Dark, thick, obscuring the radiant light from the sun. It'd been this way for days; or, at least, for as long as he could remember for the past few weeks. Small rain showers had been littering the weather forecast for days, drops of rain from as small as sprinkles to ones that nearly hurt when they collided with ones skin - well, as much as a raindrop could hurt a person's skin - having plagued them. The never lasted over half an hour, though, disappearing as suddenly as they'd arrived and making people wonder if they were really rained on at all. There was little doubt that today would provide another short burst of precipitation. It was all a matter of when. The breeze that flew through the air was a bit chilly, maybe jacket weather at best, so it was a little odd to see anyone wearing short sleeved shirts on that dreary morning. But what did he care that he was sticking out? He was practically famous, for goodness sake. And this was probably why he was being sent on this stupid task of all things.
The professor hardly ever left Vardent Town. Okay, scratch that; before Lyeant started acting up all weird and whatnot he hardly ever left Vardent Town. But it was still rare to find him in places such as Erayo City, the place he'd spent the previous afternoon, the night, and a bit of the morning. Being the region's professor - and more arrogant reasons he tried to force himself to believe, but could never quite wrap his mind around like he wanted to - his presence was quickly noticed and, within the half day he'd spent there, a handful of trainers and the like had already approached him looking for tips, advice, help with training, et cetera, et cetera. This was nothing new. Of course, when a group of teenagers looking rather bewildered approached, he had a feeling that the day would soon break out of routine. Supposedly, they'd seen a shady character hanging around the remains of nuclear accidents in the battle against Team Imum and wanted to know if he'd go check it out for them. To his dismay, they hadn't been able to get a good luck at the figure, mistaking it for a ghost of sorts and fleeing before they, themselves, could investigate further, but his intrest was piqued already. Few let themselves hang around the "accident points" for long. Too likely a chance of poisoning due to radioactivity or something of the like. Sure, people visited for a bit to mourn the dead and destroyed, but not any longer than fifteen minutes tops. From what he was gathering from the group and even other people in town was this person had been the much longer than that.
Something wsn't right.
The blond gripped the handle of his sword tighter as he departed from Spitfire Road and moved his sights on the Ishya Ruins. The sword that the league and sometimes even older starting trainers coming to his lab to recieve their first Pokemon scolded him for still using. "No one uses swords anymore" they would say, or "Aren't those dangerous?", or sometimes even "What, are your Pokemon stupid? Why not use them, instead?". But his Pokemon wouldn't always be around. Beside, they were creatures of the two extremes. They were either too rusty to fight or were tearing out the throats of another trainer's Pokemon. In the end, the sword, while not exactly approved of in a place such as the Pokemon world, was a better weapon for self defense and sparing. He, at least, knew when to stop, something he couldn't teach his Pokemon before it was too late. Naturally, if worst came to worst and it would come down to a strife, he'd rather use his own blade than summon his bird-like Pocket Monsters. And, as his gut feeling was telling him, it was highly probably that it would come down to a strife, regardless of his inability to explain why.
By the time his feet commanded him to stop, too soar to go on, his red eyes were scanning the expanse that was the Ruins of Ishya behind his shades. Apparently, the stranger had been spotted somewhere between the place he'd just left - Spitfire Road - and the place he'd just arrived, supposedly headed for the latter. In other words, if the researcher was going to have any luck of finding them, it would be somewhere around here. There was always the chance that they'd left like any other person with an ounce of sense would, but he wasn't going to believe it until he saw it with his own eyes. Check every nook and cranny, his mind was telling him. Leave no stone left unturned. Then you can leave and be thankful you didn't run into a possibly disasterous encounter. And, for a while, it seemed as though that was exactly what was going to happen; avoiding whatever freak had scared the crud out of a group of kids. But, of course, he was never that lucky. Halfway through his search, slightly movement caught his attention out of the corner of his eye and he found himself snapping his head to see what was causing it. Sure enough, there was a strange looking figure - just ghastly enough that he could almost see why they may have mistaken the supposed him as a spectar in the early morning fog - rummaging through the ruins.
He had to have been here for at least half an hour, if not more, and yet he looked completely unfazed. Well, aside from a slight set in his jaw that gave away slight irritation and not-so-slight fear. Maybe he was worried about the effects the air could have on him. But something was nagging at him in the pit of his own stomach, warning him that that probably wasn't the case. It was also saying something else to him wordlessly. Telling him that... that... he knew this person. Hadn't seen him face ot face in his entire life, but was a face he'd seen somewhere in the public media or something and held enough significance for him to remember just barely. And then there was a growl. And then there were shards of a boulder shattering, obviously caused by the move Rock Smash. And then everything sunk in.
After the death of his aunt, Zach has buried himself in finding out everything about the tempermental professor's murderers as he could. This ended up leading him to hacking into Imum's data base and finding files - ranging from complete life stories told in surprising details to nothing but a name, no face to match it, and question marks littering the entire page - one all of the members that held slight importance. It just so happened that the man before him was one of those people. "Hataro Satsuhaji..." he murmered through gritted teeth, all of the anger and resentment from Professor Pine's murder crashing over him with a vengance for the first time since Team Imum's final stand. There was a voice. Tiny, small, hardly a voice at all. But he oculd hear what it was saying. It was saying that the gjinka didn't deserve to live for the slaughter of his guardian. Didn't deserve to live for the slaughter of hundreds and thousands of people. And he had to make sure to serve justice where justice was due.
"Ya' know, I think it's funny," he called, letting his "cool kid" facade slip just enough to allow himself to laugh at the "hilaroty" of it all and hatred dance in the red flames hidden behind his sunglasses. "Lorelei smeared her face all over the public, and now she has to hide herself away forever so she doesn't get killed. But not you. You were smart enough to lay low enough that you can walk out in plain sight and get nothing more than a few weird looks." By this point in time, Zach was gripping the hilt of his trustly blade so tight that his knuckles were beginning to turn white. "You're just as dangerous, though, aren't you, Mr. Satsuhaji?"
1474 words.
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Post by Hataro Satsuhaji on Jun 19, 2013 17:35:28 GMT -6
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Love the picture <3333 "Because when I arrive" I, I'll bring the fire Make you come alive I can take you higher. HATAROHataro used Sucker Punch on the for directly! Hataro was feeling paranoid, though he only showed it in his slight agitation. Hataro flicked the hair back from his face again, sighing in frustration. It wasn't like he had expected to find clues right away, but he looked forward to hours of futile searching. The only hope in this was that, since this was the site of the nuclear explosion that had crushed Team Imum's victory in the war, Hataro expected something to come out of this search. Even if it turned out only to be the smallest bit of evidence for the most insignificant thing, Hataro was certain that he would find something worthwhile once the search was over. The weather was the same as it had been for several days now. He couldn't even really tell if this was the "rainy season," or not. Although he was well informed in many subjects, survival included, studying the farmer's almanac was not high on his priority list, and a little rain wasn't worth worrying about at a time and situation now. The remains of the ruin would get wet either way. What he knew he could do was finish this mission as soon as possible before the short, brief rain showers erased any more potential evidence or clues for his mission. He didn't have time to stop and enjoy himself. Hataro knelt down, soiling his white pants in the ashen earth to his displeasure, and began turning over and moving pieces of the rubble around. He often paused to use his dog-like senses to check for any peculiar scents. He also wouldn't want to suddenly uncover some poisonous gas on accident. He worked quickly, but cautiously. If he was careless and breathed some of the poison gas, he could easily be done for. This place's poison had even attracted koffings and weezings to the area to breathe its poisonous fumes. Hataro knew that most people never hung around this place for more than about a quarter hour, but he, with senses as sharp as a mightyena's, had the ability to smell the danger in advance before it could affect him. Hataro was so focused on his task in front of himself that at some point or another, his priorities to check his surroundings for other people hanging around here lessened noticeably. He wouldn't have expected anyone to want to come near this ruin in the first place. The rumors did their job well of keeping people out of the Ishya Ruins, and out of Hataro's way. That was how he hoped it would stay throughout this entire mission. No human would dare to venture out into the toxic air. But just in case, Hataro held a cloth over his mouth to breathe. He even narrowed his eyes to lower the chances of getting affected by the poisonous fumes even more. This mission was a dangerous one that only someone with his sort of ranking could be assigned to it. Hataro had everything he needed to prevent gaseous intoxication, though the thought of the virus lingered in his subconscious. In the immediate area where he was, there were no signs or traces of poison gas. Also, the recent showers had really cleaned out the air. But the danger came from the ground. Sometimes, explorers had come in the past thinking that the rain had cleansed the earth, but after an accidental trip and overturning a stone, toxic fumes were released into the air, killing the explorer with a slow, painful death. Hataro lifted a large, flat stone, then after tossing it aside, took a quick step back from the wisps of poison smoke that rose from the spot the stone had rested. He waited until the fumes dissipated, then carefully began returning to his work. He was interrupted by someone's voice calling out and breaking his silence. Hataro stopped, stood up straight, and faced the newcomer. This human was far from home and deep into dangerous land, and Hataro didn't want anyone disturbing his work. Hataro didn't bother to hide his mightyena gijinka parts like other gijinka did while he listened to this person's monologue with perked ears and an emotionless glare. He had come a long way, and he felt as if, if he ever got into trouble, he could fight his way out of it. He trusted in his own strength. Maybe a little too much. Hataro didn't budge or flinch at the mention of Lorelei, though he could be noticed for his glare growing somewhat fiercer in offense of the remark pointed at Lorelei. If this person had come to insult Hataro's former leader, then he, the human, would pay for it. If not, then he would pay simply for provoking Hataro with more than enough to give him areas on to fight. His bitter scowl changed to an overly confident and eager grin as he asked, "Do you want to fight me?" A good battle would make him feel better. He could never turn down the chance to beat someone up and boost his ego. He gave the sword no attention. It looked so far like this person just wanted to fight fist-to-fist, not with his Pokemon. Hataro could do that without a problem at all! At first Hataro let a moment of silence pass to give the other boy a chance to say thing else profound before he made his move. Hataro's level as a gijinka was one of the best in the Lyeant region. All of his Pokemon were trained by himself as well. Hataro adjusted his own headband just a bit, then in seconds, he was making the first attack. Hataro moved with nearly blinding speed which could only be mastered by years of vigorous training, though for him, it was now second hand instinct. Hataro's first attack was intended to try to finish this battle and award his opponent a humiliating defeat. If his opponent had been intending to make his move first, Hataro knew he would still be able to attack first and win with the others. That was the special ability of his attack, Sucker Punch, to always hit first when your foe was readying an attack. Almost as if he were simply "appearing", in front of his foe, Hataro moved in closer and aimed a well timed fist at the enemy's stomach.
o o c || woo! w o r d s || 1049 gave it my all t a g s || Zach played by Leap, open!
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Post by Zachary Hazel on Jun 25, 2013 14:44:03 GMT -6
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,400,true] | [atrb=background,http://i.imgur.com/WNXbUjs.png]One of Zachary Hazel's many faults – and one of the only ones that he wasn't entirely aware of, at that – was his tendency to underestimate anything and anyone that confronted him or, on the off chance, he confronted. It wasn't exactly his fault, you could say, and it wasn't even as though he realized it. It wasn't the thought of, “Oh, this person's lame and I'm amazing, let me go beat them up”. If anything, it was closer to, “The Pokemon are too dangerous; how can anything stop them when they can hardly stop themselves?”. Even his skills with a bladed weapon had caused him to fall into a pattern of believing himself invincible on an unconscious state. This as a whole led to much conflict and confusion, usually ending up with him jumping head first into a variety of things because being knocked down by anything the universe had to offer that wasn't his own mind was such a rare occurrence to him. Naturally, this was going to get him into quite a bit of trouble at some point in time and, with the way things were headed, this could very easily have been that time. It even occurred to him, albeit a tad bit later than would have been nice, that he was fighting an uphill battle, what with the conditions of said battle.
The most apparent reason was that he couldn't stay here long. Had they been anywhere else that didn't put his life in danger just by being there to long, he would drag out the conflict as long as he could before striking his enemy down and making him suffer the way his people had made his guardian. Sadly, this was not to be unless they moved mid-battle, but what a better backdrop for the older man's soon-to-be-failure than the place he and others of his kind had blown to bits? At least, these were the things he was thinking. For all he knew, he'd have his own sword stabbed through his chest by the end of this and the man parallel to him would end up with the victory. Just thinking about this, though, made the blond's blood boil and he had to distract himself with something else. The rain was helpful, assisting in fighting off what could have been even more toxic fumes in the air, but it wouldn't be able to save him forever. If he stood around too long, he'd end up suffocating on the ground, regardless of whether he took a blow or more or not. Secondly and the only other thing he could think of within the chaos of the all consuming rage he was trying to force down was the fact that, whatever the male was, he most definitely wasn't human. That, or that was one pointless and horrifyingly convincing costume resembling the features of the canine-like Pokemon Mighteyena. The plus side to that was, due to his own wits and years of Pokemon research, he knew Mighteyena like the back of his hand, as well as a variety of other Pokemon that might have been strangely mixed into his enemy. Hopefully, that would help him predict, dodge, or deflect future attacks.
However, of all his knowledge in the Pokemon field, it still took quite a bit of effort to not stare at the marvel before him. There was no doubt about it; this was Hataro, one of the admins of the group he detested more than anything else in the world. However, he could never recall reports saying the man had ears and a tail. The idea of crazed costumes were easily cast aside; either he was a magician and had coughed up imitation Pokemon parts so real they could only be... well, magic or those were the real thing. Something about a project to combine the genes of Pokemon and humans tickled the back of his mind, but he easily tore that nuisance of a thought away and left it to crumble in the wind. It didn't matter what he was going up against; he had to win at all cost, no matter the consequences. He'd rather die a thousand deaths than know that he had failed to avenge Melissa Pine, even if only in the slightest. And, goodness, until they could find a way to revive him nine hundred ninety-nine times so he could kill himself again, that wasn't exactly a possibility. That meant that it was necessary to beat the dark-haired man into the ground and, darnit, would he be glad to.
Hataro said nothing about his short little rant about the difference between he and Lorelei, but it was painfully evident that his jab at the woman had poked the Ursaring. Over protective of your leader, huh? Let's try again. Allowing the most cruel of a smirk to play on his lips, he tested, “So where is she, huh? Your leader? She must be some coward to not face her own mistakes. I hope they find her dead on the edge of a road somewhere; fitting death, don't you think?” Pausing and thinking it over, he quickly corrected, “Wait, no, that wouldn't be fair. She can't die yet. The only way I'm going to let her pass away is through my strangling her to death!” The smirk has since faded, an angry scowl taking its place on his face. However, his expression change was inverted by his soon-to-be sparring partner, his own frown giving way to an arrogant sort of grin. “Do you want to fight me?” he asked simply. Like there was even a choice. Practically growling at him, a low sort of rumble expressing his unfathomable anger, the professor snapped, “No, I came here to have a tea party! I couldn't imagine a better way to spend my day than to chill with my Aunt's murderer like bros. Don't be an idiot – of course I want to fight.”
By this point in time, Zach wasn't surprised in the slightest that his opponent's first move wasn't to grab for a Poke' Ball. Perhaps anyone else would have been caught off guard, but anyone else wouldn't have a sword clutched in between their pale fingers and wouldn't have already deduced that they were facing up against someone not quite human. A moment passed between his final word and Hataro moving at him with frightening speed, much more than the blond had anticipated. His first thought was to deflect with a swing of his sword, no time to summon a Pokemon and no need to have his birds do his dirty work for him. Fortunately, he noticed something about the dark-haired man's movements and – Okay, no, don't use the sword, don't use the sword. Had he attacked, he would have been hit with the full force of what he assumed was a Sucker Punch attack and a powerful one at that, too. Thankfully, he'd caught on just a moment before he made a mistake and managed to move out of the way enough to escape most of the impact. That didn't stop it from hurting a bit, though.
“Sneaky,” he complimented through clenched teeth, “but I'm a professional. You'll have to do a lot better than that if you want to hurt me.” And then he was flying forward, sword grasped in hand as he aimed to make a variety of possibly fatal blows if they landed. However, with the speed the man was showing off before, he doubted he'd be able to land a clean hit that would finish off the job off the get go.
Maybe he was in a slight rush, not wanting to be hit with the effects of the toxic air, but that didn't mean he wanted to get it over with so soon.
1335 words.
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