Post by Lorelei Ackermann on May 20, 2015 0:24:45 GMT -6
SHARP AS STEEL. STOP FOR NO MAN. YOU'D BETTER BEG AND KNEEL.
Fury. Terror. Lethality. The admins of Besser were the living embodiments of all these and more, three components of a well-oiled machine whose only function was but to destroy, control, and reshape in their own flawless image. They operated with grace, each movement and tactic meaningful and not a joule of effort put to waste, and from any onlooker staring at their elevated persons from beyond, it would appear that nothing they did was without greater meaning, another piece to a greater scheme that only they were privy to. Not time for rest, for fun, for indulgences – not when theirs' were plates stacked high with the needs of a region, with the visions of a world free of organized crime. With the visions of a region ruled under a flag brandished with the Imum emblem. No soul, however, outside of their trio of terror could ever bare the weight of that knowledge, however; nor could they ever know that the names Ackermann, Kircsh, and Satsuhaji were titles given to mere mortals who likened themselves to great heroes (or, more accurately, tyrants). And, like all mortals, they still abided by the phrase “all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy”; one could only sit in one of Besser's abhorrent offices for so long, after all, before they were ailed with the conditions of being stir crazy.
Lorelei did not enjoy stooping to the levels of the common folk. They were imbeciles, truly, all of them – simple minded and caught up on such simple things, a week made or broken by a malfunctioning television or how intoxicated they had become when out partying the prior weekend. In some parts of the region, in fact, Pokemon training while an adult was becoming synonymous with undergoing a “midlife crisis,” the likes of which she found particularly frivolous. The visions she had were of a higher caliber: coup d'etats, world-wide revolutions, the freeing of enslaved Pocket Monsters, and the continued servitude to a woman who many would argue had left her and her fellow admins to the wolves upon leaving them her legacy and her cruse. She was still human, of course, Hataro and Felix themselves boasting abilities and a state of mind that even she would never be able to live up to, but there were times spent in the presence of other... inferior members of the Besser party that made her wonder if she and her beloved acquaintances were truly of the same species. Well, in their case, similar to said species. Perhaps it was simply arrogance that fanned her thoughts, though, something that she did not like to admit to having spades of when it came to certain topics – namely her in comparison to those who had walked her path and failed where she had not. Arrogance or no, however, none of that stopped her from feeling uneasy when placed in situations unbecoming of one of the most powerful beings in the region. Stepping down from such a high position in power in the near-ruling body that was Besser just long enough to indulge in such commonplace things as tea at a local cafe was certainly more of a leap of faith than a careless step, after all.
Ormy Village, tucked away deep in the Ormy Territories, was as scenic was it was out of the way, and when she had invited her most faithful members – particularly the duo of the dark-type Pokemon variety – out for a quaint little outing, despite the distance from their normal base of operations, it had seemed the most logical of all. Eating out in one of the more acclaimed restaurants or cafes in, say, Irisia or the Veherna Citadel would be a disaster simply waiting in the wings; either a crowd of Besser lovers or a crowd of Minder scum wishing to behead them was almost guaranteed to arrive, and with such well-liked places came long waits and potentially pour service. Oh, goodness, no. Theirs' was an agenda that left no room for patience, particularly at the expense of lethargic waiters and mindless buffoons being served first. Out in such a secluded place, however, were equally acclaimed shops with much better rates of service. The less bustling nature of the area, as well, would serve well for important topics they would need to cover that simply could not go heard by wandering ears. Lark, the reigning leader of their group, after all, needed to be dealt with, and none of their triad of terror imagined it would be without bloodshed. As such, there they sat in the furthest booth of the Spinda Cafe, wooden-colored menus laid out before them listing all of the potential meals and drinks offered as they awaited service. The room: empty. The atmosphere: simple. The smell: wonderful. The raven-haired menace would have you believe that she never loved, but her affections were cast out to this establishment.
“We will split the pay three ways on the dot,” Lorelei was saying, broken nails tapping to some unheard rhythm against the plastic cover of the menu's page. There was really no need to go over the method of payment, but to say she had a bit of an obsession with control would be a grave understatement; there was just something she liked about barking orders, insignificant or no, and something that made her heart swell even more when she watched them be followed through to completion. “If the bill exceeds fifteen dollars, we shall each offer a two dollar tip. Three for twenty. Four for twenty-five. Five for anything beyond. Order as much or as little as suits your fancy.”
Lorelei did not enjoy stooping to the levels of the common folk. They were imbeciles, truly, all of them – simple minded and caught up on such simple things, a week made or broken by a malfunctioning television or how intoxicated they had become when out partying the prior weekend. In some parts of the region, in fact, Pokemon training while an adult was becoming synonymous with undergoing a “midlife crisis,” the likes of which she found particularly frivolous. The visions she had were of a higher caliber: coup d'etats, world-wide revolutions, the freeing of enslaved Pocket Monsters, and the continued servitude to a woman who many would argue had left her and her fellow admins to the wolves upon leaving them her legacy and her cruse. She was still human, of course, Hataro and Felix themselves boasting abilities and a state of mind that even she would never be able to live up to, but there were times spent in the presence of other... inferior members of the Besser party that made her wonder if she and her beloved acquaintances were truly of the same species. Well, in their case, similar to said species. Perhaps it was simply arrogance that fanned her thoughts, though, something that she did not like to admit to having spades of when it came to certain topics – namely her in comparison to those who had walked her path and failed where she had not. Arrogance or no, however, none of that stopped her from feeling uneasy when placed in situations unbecoming of one of the most powerful beings in the region. Stepping down from such a high position in power in the near-ruling body that was Besser just long enough to indulge in such commonplace things as tea at a local cafe was certainly more of a leap of faith than a careless step, after all.
Ormy Village, tucked away deep in the Ormy Territories, was as scenic was it was out of the way, and when she had invited her most faithful members – particularly the duo of the dark-type Pokemon variety – out for a quaint little outing, despite the distance from their normal base of operations, it had seemed the most logical of all. Eating out in one of the more acclaimed restaurants or cafes in, say, Irisia or the Veherna Citadel would be a disaster simply waiting in the wings; either a crowd of Besser lovers or a crowd of Minder scum wishing to behead them was almost guaranteed to arrive, and with such well-liked places came long waits and potentially pour service. Oh, goodness, no. Theirs' was an agenda that left no room for patience, particularly at the expense of lethargic waiters and mindless buffoons being served first. Out in such a secluded place, however, were equally acclaimed shops with much better rates of service. The less bustling nature of the area, as well, would serve well for important topics they would need to cover that simply could not go heard by wandering ears. Lark, the reigning leader of their group, after all, needed to be dealt with, and none of their triad of terror imagined it would be without bloodshed. As such, there they sat in the furthest booth of the Spinda Cafe, wooden-colored menus laid out before them listing all of the potential meals and drinks offered as they awaited service. The room: empty. The atmosphere: simple. The smell: wonderful. The raven-haired menace would have you believe that she never loved, but her affections were cast out to this establishment.
“We will split the pay three ways on the dot,” Lorelei was saying, broken nails tapping to some unheard rhythm against the plastic cover of the menu's page. There was really no need to go over the method of payment, but to say she had a bit of an obsession with control would be a grave understatement; there was just something she liked about barking orders, insignificant or no, and something that made her heart swell even more when she watched them be followed through to completion. “If the bill exceeds fifteen dollars, we shall each offer a two dollar tip. Three for twenty. Four for twenty-five. Five for anything beyond. Order as much or as little as suits your fancy.”
948 words ● Hataro Satsuhaji, Felix Kirsch ● poor girl can't lighten up ever.
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Hataro
The link on "black hoodie" leads to my sketch of him wearing a hoodie suggestively <3