secret-agent-man-looker

[secret-agent-man-looker]

ooc: I’m never on and I’m sorry to keep y’all waiting for nothing

I apologize for the ooc blurb/mumble/whatever but anyone who knows me personally would possibly know that I don’t like letting things go? I’m what I like to call a ‘sentimental hoarder’--keep shit going and hold on to it even though it’s like beating a dead horse.

What I’m getting at is that, if you haven’t noticed already, I’m never on his man’s poor blog anymore. And I just want to say that I’m not abandoning Looker but just, this blog’s priority isn’t even on my radar anymore. Between work, and all the things I want to do--especially push for writing my own personal projects--there’s not enough time for it all. On top of that, I don’t know how to describe this other than just... I don’t know, it feels like replies are just kind of a chore anymore. It’s not to say that any of our plots and whatever don’t interest me, but it’s just with everything in my mind--my job, my writing, my health, my other things that hold no actual importance but I make it out like it does--it’s hard to keep focus. 

And believe me, it makes me feel like shit. It really does.

So no, I will not completely ditch this blog because I can’t bring myself to do that, but just, please don’t expect anything much from me. If you don’t mind waiting 235366 years for a reply to a thread you probably won’t even remember, then you have the patience of a saint and you deserved all the love and affection in the world. 

I mean, I’m already never on this blog anymore and writing this out makes it seem more exaggerated then it already is but, hey, it makes me feel better putting it in words, I suppose. 

I’m sorry to all your lovely folks--all, like, what, 4-5 people that bother with this poor ol’ officer. If that. 

Nevertheless, I encourage you guys to still reach out though Skype (nillawafer024) or my shiny new Discord that I have no clue how it works??? (nillawafer024 #9473) because i’d still love to ramble about my favorite police husband if you’d like to as well. I just can’t promise immediate responses, due to work really. 

So yeah. I’m sorry. As usual, I feel like shit but hey, a wise man once said that it is what it is, so...... Yeah. I’ll be back when I get around to it eventually. <3

--Nilla

[secret-agent-man-looker]

detailed muse info sheet.

please repost, don’t reblog!

PLACE IN SOCIETY

✖ FINANCIAL – wealthy / moderate / poor / in poverty / n/a ✖ MEDICAL – fit / moderate / sickly / disabled / disadvantaged ✖ CLASS OR CASTE – upper / middle / working / slave / unsure / none ✖ EDUCATION – qualified / unqualified / studying ✖ CRIMINAL RECORD – yes, for major crimes (technically the Galactic Incident was a HUGE deal as I headcanon he was nearly charged and almost apprehended on various counts where the player could have possibly died in the Distortion World as a result of Looker telling them “they’re the only one” who can stop Galactic)  / yes, for minor crimes / has aided / committed crimes but not caught yet / none / in multiple countries / where all am i wanted again?

FAMILY

✖ MARITAL STATUS – married, happily / married, unhappily / engaged / partnered / single / divorced / widow or widower / separated / it’s complicated ✖ CHILDREN – has had a child or children / no children / wants children / adopted a child ✖ FAMILY – close with sibling(s) / not close with sibling(s) / has no sibling(s) / sibling(s) are deceased ✖ AFFILIATION – orphaned / adopted / disowned / raised by birth parent(s) / other

TRAITS & TENDENCIES

✖ extroverted / introverted / in-between ✖ disorganized / organized / in-between  ✖ close-minded / open-minded / in-between ✖ disagreeable / agreeable / in-between ✖ cautious / reckless / in-between ✖ patient / impatient / in-between ✖ outspoken / reserved / in-between ✖ leader / follower / in-between ✖ empathetic / apathetic / in-between ✖ optimistic / pessimistic / in-between ✖ traditional / modern / in-between ✖ hard-working / lazy / in-between ✖ cultured / uncultured / in-between ✖ loyal / disloyal / unknown ✖ faithful / unfaithful / unknown

BELIEFS

✖ FAITH – monotheistic / polytheistic / atheist / agnostic / nontheist / unsure ✖ BELIEF IN GHOSTS / SPIRITS – yes / no / don’t know / don’t care ✖ BELIEF IN AFTERLIFE – yes / no / don’t know / don’t care ✖ BELIEF IN REINCARNATION – yes / no / don’t know / don’t care ✖ BELIEF IN ALIENS – yes / no / don’t know / don’t care ✖ PHILOSOPHICAL – yes / no / sometimes

SEXUALITY & ROMANTIC INCLINATION

✖ SEXUALITY – heterosexual / homosexual / bisexual / asexual / pansexual / demisexual / greysexual ✖ SEX – sex repulsed / sex neutral / sex favorable ✖ ROMANCE – romance repulsed / romance neutral / romance favorable ✖ SEXUALLY – adventurous / experienced / naive / inexperienced / curious ✖ POTENTIAL SEXUAL PARTNERS – male / female / agender / none / all / undetermined ✖ POTENTIAL ROMANTIC PARTNERS – male / female / agender / none / all / undetermined

ABILITIES

✖ COMBAT SKILLS – excellent / good / moderate / poor / none ✖ LITERACY SKILLS – excellent / good / moderate / poor / none ✖ ARTISTIC SKILLS – excellent / good / moderate / poor / none ✖ TECHNICAL SKILLS – excellent / good / moderate / poor / none

HABITS

✖ DRINKING ALCOHOL – never / sometimes / frequently / to excess ✖ SMOKING – trying to quit / never / sometimes / frequently / to excess / formerly--has already quit ✖ OTHER NARCOTICS – never / sometimes / frequently / to excess ✖ MEDICINAL DRUGS – never / sometimes / frequently / to excess ✖ INDULGENT FOOD – never / sometimes / frequently / to excess ✖ SPLURGE SPENDING – never / sometimes / frequently / to excess ✖ GAMBLING – never / sometimes / frequently / to excess

Tagged by: @koucas Tagging: @lookertickets, @theagentlooker, and @remembranceless (and anyone else???)

[secret-agent-man-looker]

mun & muse fact sheet

Repost, do not reblog.

Quick Ref Sheet || Mun and Muse Edition! Tagged By: @remembranceless Rules:  tag 10 of your followers that you want to know better!

Muse:

Name: Richard Adrian Dupont Nickname: “Looker”, “Rich”, “Richie” (mother dearest exclusive), any butchering of his surname courtesy of @lookertickets, formerly, “100kr” Zodiac Sign: Libra Gender: Male Favorite Color: Dark Navy Blue or Brown most likely

Average Hours of Sleep: 5 to 4 maybe??? This man doesn’t sleep. Last Thing Googled: Pages you view in incognito tabs won’t stick around in your browser’s hist Height: 6′1″

Mun:

Name: Savannah Nickname: Nilla Zodiac Sign: Libra Gender: Female Favorite Color: Red and/or Navy Blue Average Hours of Sleep: 8 to 7  Last Thing You Googled: “pokemon text box blank” (needed a reference of what the text boxes in RBY looked like again lmao) Height: 5′3″

Tagging: I’ll finally start tagging people I guess, my fab (three of the) four: @lookertickets, @theagentlooker and @koucas, and then, of course, anyone else???

[secret-agent-man-looker]

The Good ol’ Days

The cafeteria at HQ was always rather packed at this time. The crowd of both business casual and high-end formal mingling together over overpriced sandwiches, berry mixes, drinks, and whatever else enforcers of the law could stuff their faces with.

Wrapped goods in hand, the young 100kr turned and scanned the area, platinum-plated eyes dancing from one seated head to another... to another... to another... until he spotted a much familiar face and smiled. 

“Ah, good afternoon, sir! Do you mind if I am seated with you?” He hadn’t even waited for some form of acknowledgement before he parked himself in the seat and began to unwrap his sandwich. KR′s counterpart, sitting across from him, held a good decade and some odd years his senior at least. He was a skilled veteran whom the young man often gazed at in childish awe. 000 was, for a lack of better words, his role model, and one of the absolute greats this organization held. KR wanted nothing more than to someday be even half as honorable as this guy.  

“Hm, so, sir, how have you been? The Commissioner has, as of lately, been allowing me to begin small solo missions. It is as if I have not seen you in ages! Ha!” 

[secret-agent-man-looker]

((To the, I believe, three people who are waiting on replies/starters from me... I'm so sorry you have to wait around for my sluggish ass.)

[secret-agent-man-looker]

SEPERATE FOR @americannoteven !!!!

THANKS FOR JOINING THE STREM

[secret-agent-man-looker]

(I walked in and saw my police husband getting cyberbullied online...)

[secret-agent-man-looker]

remembranceless:

And there went her neatly-tied hair.

As the helicopter took off again, kicking dust up into the air, Anabel glanced around; it was too dark to see the landscape well, but the lights of the Geothermal Power Plant were well within sight—and there was a small room at the back of it with their names on it…or so she’d been told.

She waited until the air was quiet again before she spoke.

“They’ve left a room open for us at the back of the power plant. I think it is usually used by crews when large-scale repairs are necessary and they need to bunk there for a little while.” Her voice took on a tone that could be considered teasing as she leaned over to help him gather the luggage, the smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth genuine. “It’s hardly the four-star accommodations we’re used to, but I think it will do.”

As if Interpol had ever sprung for anything even remotely like a four-star hotel!  Still, their temporary arrangement would suffice for a night.

Not that she would get any sleep. She already felt ill at ease in this place, a little chilled even beneath her layers of clothing. She bit down on her lower lip to keep from urging Mr. Looker to hurry and instead lifted what she hoped was her fair share of their luggage. She was in control, here, she reminded herself. Not the UB they were looking for, and not her own ridiculous insecurities. Surely with her entire team at their disposal, this would not be too difficult. Even though Mr. Looker had said this UB was on the larger side, she had faced others that seemed unnaturally large: more than three times her own height, even.

The two of them, and her six pokémon, could handle one UB.

And her gun, she reminded herself, relieved that her hands were full so that she could not reach behind her to make sure it was still in its resting place at the small of her back. Mr. Looker did not pack firepower, but she wasn’t personally opposed to it—and though she was hardly an incredible shot, she would do what needed to be done. It was her responsibility as head of their division to make that kind of judgment call…and she had decided a long time ago that she would never put a UB’s life before that of another human being.

She shook her head slightly in an attempt to get her hair out of her face and tried to keep her tone light as she started off in the direction of the power plant, glancing over her shoulder to make sure that her subordinate was with her. “Tell me, Mr. Looker, why I bothered to fix my hair a little while ago when I must have known it would only get messed up again?”

The gravel and loose dirt crunched under his heels as he walked with bags in tow, heading towards the bright lights that illuminated the entrance to plant. Despite the icy talons of fear and foreboding taking a hold of him, he had to crack a smile at least at her words, “Ah, an overnight room will certainly be fine. I am not picky on accommodations, no! I am sure the International Police, they know that...!” Whether Anabel knew it or not, Interpol had a wide range of places to plot their agents for field missions. The most lavished mission Looker could once recall was of an infiltration of a regional embassy--the finest meals money could purchase, elegant halls, bedrooms that were fit only for royalty. Of course, that wasn’t his mission. At the same time that fellow, unnamed agent lived in the lap of luxury, Looker had found himself in the Johto region, sleeping on a bench overnight in the National Park following some intense recon on the head honcho of old Team Rocket. That other agent probably had finished his or her third meal of grilled Farfecth’d or smoked Seaking before going to bed. Looker, if he was even lucky, maybe had half a sandwich in that time.

His standards were always low--low enough to where Interpol never seemed to question it allowed him to have the dirty jobs no one else would take. So, he couldn’t complain. At that this place had a bed!

Looker snorted at her question as a sudden response. He spoke, his tone seeming far more playful and jokingly then he intended but at least that wasn’t a bad thing, “I cannot be sure, Chief. But I would like to bet on you that you will fix it once more, only for your hair to become a bit, ah... messier than when you began when you are asleep, no?” He couldn’t help but crack an amused smile, “See, that is the issue with the long hair--it goes everywhere! Heh, Chief, to avoid these problems, you should get a haircut to match mine, no? See! No issues!” He wasn’t sure if Anabel had snuck a glance back at him once more, but as if to make a point, Looker shook his head with a great force. Dizzying himself slightly as he walked, so he stopped and smirked. Maybe a couple stray hairs here and there, but nothing that would be considered a mess. 

The two officers made their way back to their room though long stretches of halls and doors where they finally dropped their belongings smack dab on the floor. Looker fumbled for a light switch, and after great difficulty, found it right next to the doorway. The room was tiny and certainly no where near lavished, but again, it was more than enough for him. 

[secret-agent-man-looker]

uragirazu:

                  Proton stared at his outstretched hand.

        He had half a mind to leave; the pun was an outrage. Dropping code names into a conversation made everything far more difficult than need be, let alone just having a conversation to begin with. He shifted, dropped his feet to the ground and shot forward. He clasped Looker’s hand in his own, gripping it tightly in response. As quickly as the agent had taken hold of his limb he released it, not so subtly wiping his hand on the fabric of his jeans. 

        ❝Careful, gonna make me blush,❞ He pushed the bag of donuts closer to the other agent with nary a blink, flat gaze intensified by the shadow cast from his hat. ❝So, gonna be a little blunt here, Looker. Never had a partner that could keep up with me. If you drag me down I’ll have to have you transferred out-❞ a bluf, transfer requests were notoriously difficult, he would sooner be eaten alive by a horde of Magikarp. When the other made no obvious move to grab the pastries from the bag he so kindly offered, he snatched it up and peeled it open to fish out a chocolate drenched monstrosity. 

        ❝Let’s get down to briefing then,❞ Proton hummed around a mouthful of donut, looking more content than he had since he arrived, ❝I’m an infiltrator, I’ll only sweep an area when it needs to be cleaned. So it ain’t my job to check the perimeters, if it comes down to that it’ll get messy and we’ll both be hearing about it.❞ He didn’t need to make the concerted effort to mime slitting his own throat, but he did so wonderfully. ❝Let’s make it clear that we ain’t friends, ‘kay? You come in dressed like one of my coworkers, I’ll make sure they’re out for the evening. We’ll grab the evidence and split, sound simple-❞

        A beat, Proton’s lips quirked subtly.

        ❝-sir?❞ 

The young man was cocky; an air of an exuberant ego floating around his slender figure. It rubbed Looker the wrong way--not in a way that Proton would deceit him but just, it felt like a challenge, something foolish and childish. As a traditional agent, following more textbook than anything, Looker had half a mind to reach across the table and smack him. Of course, he never would and, to tell truth, he instead let his curiosity get the best of him as he pondered how Interpol even bothered with this guy. 

“...As an infiltrator, your job is to gather intelligence. You need to look at all aspects and not just what is in the present in front of you.” Looker’s attitude shifted rather dramatically--something like that of a scold to the double agent. It made absolutely no sense that Proton wouldn’t be checking perimeters. What about escape routes? What about watch points? Was getting caught not even remotely relevant on his mental list?

Looker sighed and clasped his hands together to lean forward into the table, taking in every word of Proton’s plan--if you could even call it that. That was all he had? When the younger male finished, Looker hadn’t moved for an additional beat, as if he were expecting more. When nothing came, he merely blinked, unchanged at the sudden entitlement of authority. “...Is that all?” Looker was usually a rather relaxed gentleman, no who normally just let himself ‘go with the flow’ as they said. But this was ridiculous. “My good man, where are your floor plans, your time cues, your extraction points--?!” The elder nearly hissed over the table, eyes darting anxiously about to make sure no one overheard his slightly raised tone. Taking a moment to read that it was safe, Looker resumed with a shake of his head, “Proton, sir, this... ah... I am not sure how you conduct your missions alone, however, I can see that there is obvious inexperience laced within. You must learn that this is no game, no...! This is serious work--say it with me, serious work...! And if we are to work together then I will need you to supply me with further knowledge of the Team Rocket headquarters so that I may aid you in constructing a concrete plan...!” 

[secret-agent-man-looker]

remembranceless:

The expression on Mr. Looker’s face told Anabel to be patient; he was working, though of course in his own way—a method unique to him, she was sure. No other work partner assigned to her had ever worn that look on their face, and not one of them had the capacity for processing information that she suspected Mr. Looker did. She considered herself fairly observant, but he had a knack for remembering details so small they slipped right by her.

It was no trouble at all to wait patiently with her hands clasped in her lap, and after the expected amount of time, the questions came as, it seemed, they always did. Perhaps it was silly to be relieved that she knew sometimes what to expect when it came to her subordinate.

“Yes, absolutely.” The last thing she wanted to do was overwhelm him with information; he did not regularly battle and while he had a knack for remembering case details, movesets and battle strategies were, well—not the opposite so much as…not something he bothered to focus on. Considering his lack of a personal battle team, it made sense. And she usually more than made up for it. But she could not adequately direct two or more pokémon spaced widely apart—and she knew now from experience that doing so while running for her life was… Well, it was not an acceptable option, not if she had any other choice.

“You remembered correctly: Entei is a fire-type and is, ah…hot-headed.” The play on words was weak at best, but it was silly enough that it was hard to forget once considered. “I’m afraid I have no fun way to remember the others, but Raikou is an electric type, and Latios of dual typing: dragon and psychic.”

She was already failing at doing a good job explaining things to Mr. Looker. Perhaps she should have asked him from the start if he knew anything about her pokémon, but…she could not really remember having battled much in front of him, and she tended to use pokémon in her police work that were either very heavily defensive or versatile. Had he ever seen her use the three she’d given him in a battle? Any battle?

She frowned slightly, trying to think. Perhaps not. This would be more difficult than she’d anticipated, but she could not put Mr. Looker on defense when she herself was the most likely target. She would have to do her best and hope it would be enough to see them through.

She forced her frown into a smile, more for his benefit than her own; even though she was already feeling uneasy, it would’t do for him to think she was nervous, too.

“All right… Latios first. He’s very intelligent, understands human speech, and, ah, is also telepathic, to an extent. If the field is covered in smoke, for example, he will be able to sense the location of you, myself, any other pokémon present, and his opponent. I have no idea, of course, if that information will be useful, but…it is possible. As far as preferred moves go, it seems he has always had the strongest affinity for Luster Purge, so I have always focused on it. Dragon Pulse is another good option if you find you need to utilize his dragon typing… And, well, he has two useful healing moves, one which he can use on himself, and another which he can only use on others. Since I will be fighting, too, if something happens to one of my three pokémon, Latios can lend a hand…provided he has the energy. As I said earlier, he is rather old… Oh…! If something happens to either of us, he might be able to offer some assistance. Nothing major, of course, but as they say, beggars cannot be choosers.” And if Latios’s Heal Pulse so much as slowed blood loss, it would be a worthwhile choice to make to have him use it.

She went on to explain as much about her latios as she could—not every move in his arsenal, but the more important ones like Thunderbolt and Protect, and also his strengths and weaknesses. He was a capable opponent from afar, but being older he was physically a little frail, and unless absolutely necessary it was best to keep him out of the fray. Attacking from a distance would be to their advantage.

Raikou was next on the list: a strong offensive battler—again, from a distance—but much faster than Latios could manage, which made him ideal for dodging or getting somewhere quickly. He could even fly if he had the time to summon thunderclouds, and he knew the basic electric moves: Thunderbolt, Thunder, Thunder Wave… And he knew Extrasensory, which, if it hit, could sometimes hurt badly enough to force an opponent back a step to get their bearings again.

Entei was the odd one out, at his strongest when fighting physically. He knew Flamethrower, of course, and it would do in a pinch, but most of his training had been spent honing his skills using moves like Fire Fang and Flame Charge. He also had some talent with Stone Edge and could, if necessary, use Solar Beam, but both required an opponent to be relatively stationary for a period of time, and the latter could be dangerous as it required time to charge, which mean that for a time, Entei would be helpless.

She could have talked for much longer about her team, but the helicopter ride wasn’t to be an especially long one, and even Mr. Looker could not remember every bit of detail if she made it excessive. The basics ought to be fine; at any rate, they would be much better than if she had to deal with it entirely on her own. If he remembered just one or two moves each pokémon was especially good at using, she would probably be able to handle playing defense without too much worry.

She chewed on her bottom lip while she tried to think of more to say, but came up with nothing, and offered him an awkward smile around the motion.

“I think that about does it, and please…don’t worry too much about having it all memorized. I don’t expect you to remember everything. During battle, recalling just a few of them will be a great help to me, I’m sure. And if you like, we can go over it again when we land.” Which they would be doing any moment now, according to the pilot, who pointed down at Blush Mountain toward a clearing. 

Anabel looked away from both men and swallowed hard, fingers curling into fists in her lap. It was stupid to let her nerves get the better of her; she was hardly deserving of her rank if she let herself be so easily rattled, after all.

She tried to focus on a plan, instead: the first thing to do would be to have Mr. Looker release his new team so that they could be introduced and the situation explained. Her team rarely needed heavy instruction from her, and she hoped they would do as well for Mr. Looker. She had chosen them for him for that reason above all others, after all.

She turned back to him again with a smile on her face, and hoped it did not look too forced.

“Perhaps by this time tomorrow, Mr. Looker, we will have returned to our roles as carefree sightseers.” It certainly was a pleasant thought—and if they were very lucky, maybe it would come to pass.

“No, no, I am understanding it...!” Looker replied, his eyes still cast down onto the worn down pokeballs in his hand, as if to visualize the explanations she was feeding him. “Fire is hot, and Entei is hot-headed... Dragon-types are, erm... usually old and wise? Aha, there! An old and wise Latios, and... Raikou is, ah... ah! Quick! Quick like lightning!” The little puns were childish, he had to admit, but he’d certainly remember them. The agent could remember fine, acute details, mannerisms and the like as if it were no one’s business, but when it came to textbook facts and knowledge he wasn’t so keen on--such as battling--he’d take whatever help he could get. He finally glanced up and met her eyes with a firm nod, “I do believe I will certain remember most of that, or, at least, I can attempt to! Thank you Chief.”

They were greeted with a beat of silence, the muted roar of the aircraft’s motor raging as they flew across the sky made its way into the small cabin. Another gentle reminder that every second that passed was a second closer to facing down the Ultra Beast. Not many things terrified the elder officer, but to say that he could easily face this with a level head was... well, untrue. Nightmares from the first mission all those years ago wouldn’t dare leave his head and they plagued him like an illness he couldn’t shake off. He couldn’t falter, not this time... 

Looker stole a quick glance at Anabel beside him. She kept herself tense, as if to brace for some kind of impact--not physically but mentally. The feeling felt all too familiar, and it pained him dearly. With a sigh, he felt his hand twitch rather absentmindedly. Part of him wanted to reach out, to grip her shoulder and tell her they’d make it out alive and well. But what was the point? Looker couldn’t even bring himself to believe that, so no doubt she’d see right through him. The agent’s primary duty was to lie in certain situations and circumstances, but this, this bout of life and death, was not one of them. 

His hand twitched once more, right as she turned to face him. He nearly frowned, something about her smile was just too off for his liking and he had a mere guess as to what ever could be causing it. Uncertainty. 

“...I... I do truly hope so, Chief... I hope so.”

The landing was rather smooth, almost to the point that Looker blinked in astonishment--”W-We are here so soon?”. He moved to unstrap himself from his seat and take hold their luggage, one of the young pilots moving to unlatch the door for their landing. The harsh sound of the chopping blades above filled the mute silence, causing Looker to flinch, if only for a second. The pilot moved the headset mic from his mouth and spoke, “We’re here...! I’ve been told you two already have arrangements?” 

Looker cocked an eyebrow and shrugged, casting a glance over at Anabel who, most likely, didn’t catch a word the young man yelled before he threw in his own, “Erm... I suppose so... Yes!” 

In return, the pilot offered a mere salute of luck as they stepped off into the twirling torrent of dust and dirt. A salute of good faith, Looker thought, lugging the last bag off the open latch, more likely it is the salute of the fallen--STOP. This will be a successful mission! Stop that. Stop that. Stop that!

Taking in a deep breath of dry dust, Looker gasped for air, watching with heavy breaths as the helicopter rose back into the darkening sky and flew off out of the sight. 

[secret-agent-man-looker]

sad--man:

For a full minute he stood there, letting the cold rain drip into his home as the other struggled for words. He knew the feeling, the sheer inability to find words. That’s how he felt when they parted ways the first time- like he couldn’t get the words out that he wanted.

Another few seconds of silence after Looker spoke, mulling the words over in his mind. He could just slam the door. He could just say no. But he didn’t, no, instead, he held the door open silently, making a motion with his head to offer the other shelter from the rain.

“You should hang that jacket up over there.” He gestured to a coat rack- surprisingly empty, despite the fact that the officer seemed to live here. “Let it dry out.” He turned to face his several Meowth- a few of them were making sounds, a few were a sleep- and a sense of calm filled him. He was home, there was no reason for him to be so tense.

So why was he?

Looker, truthfully, hadn’t expected to even get this far. He was ready for the slam of the door, perhaps even a punch of the face. He deserved those, but a sudden gist of hospitality? Even as a guest, he hadn’t prepared himself for such. 

There was a delay, a moment to process the choice of actions. Nanu invited the younger male inside and Looker blinked astonishingly before throwing a meek ‘thank you’ to the Kahuna, shedding off coat. Water dripped onto the floor below, a couple damp patches of his blazer underneath now greeted by the sudden chill of air. You can still leave. You do not have to do this. 

...But I am already ten years too late, I must now. 

Looker stood, fixated in place, as if afraid to move without permission. Even all this time later, he still regarded Nanu as his superior, awaiting the following orders that would never come. He really needed to let that go. “You, erm... You have quite a collection...” He spoke up softly and made a nod towards the lazing felines, a slight smile, honest and genuine despite his uncertainty, playing on his lips, “O-Of Meowth, I do mean...! Yes.” 

[secret-agent-man-looker]

"Right. I forgot to say it too, huh. Happy Valentine's day. A̶n̶d̶ ̶j̶u̶s̶t̶ ̶s̶o̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶ ̶k̶n̶o̶w̶,̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶ ̶d̶o̶n̶'̶t̶ ̶l̶o̶o̶k̶ ̶a̶ ̶d̶a̶y̶ ̶o̶v̶e̶r̶ ̶t̶h̶i̶r̶t̶y̶.̶"̶

The valentine is rushed. Mostly rushed because he completely forgot Valentine's Day- he was late. He just hoped it wasn't too late. Some strange looking flowers and a bar of chocolate that he'd often seen Looker eating back in the old days of their partnership, that's all he left on Looker's desk. That's all he needed to leave, really. And a note, quickly scribbled in Nanu's neat handwriting. "Happy Valentine's Day. Apologies for being late."

Rounding the corner towards his office, Looker froze at the harsh--yet... astonished?--gaze that met him. He opened his mouth to speak, but the lackluster elder beat him to it, leaving him to just stand there, jaw slacked. 

Something stirred slightly in his chest, Looker couldn’t seem to place it. Not a negative feeling by any means--instead it felt more... nostalgic, warm even; a strange feeling from the former agent. 

“Ze--erm... M-Mister Na...!” Looker’s voice trailed off into a pitiful silence. Suddenly, he felt like a young, bubbly recruit all over again. 

For Nanu, to go out of his way to bid Looker well on anything, let alone a day reserved for romantic couples was, incredibly abstract anymore. Ten years ago, maybe a kinda gesture or sentiment, back when their circumstances were simpler, friendlier, but... now? It felt strange to even picture it, but to see it? The officer must had been dreaming. 

...As if opening the office door to a small cluster of flowers and a small, unwrapped gift on his desk helped that strange feeling in his gut. “W-Where...?” The fragment dropped without too much thought as he shrugged off his trenchcoat and made his way towards the desk, his eyes instinctively drawn to the once-familiar wrapping of the candy bar. 

A slight gasp of exclamation slipped past his lips, taking the bar into his thick hands. It looked so small in his grip, nothing like he could remember from his early years. “The early years...” He echoed to himself, as if recalling a fond memory. He hadn’t realized it, but ever since that dreadful failure of a night, he hadn’t sunken his teeth into one of these. Ten years. Ten years of having traded chocolate for tobacco and alcohol, smiles for tears and nightmares, and fear into a gripping reality. 

Looker suddenly smiled, the residual voice playing back in his head, as if preserved from some random mission all those years back, Don’t eat the whole thing, you’ll get sick... Oh, what innocent abundance Nanu once held...

Setting the chocolate bar down, his eyes casted over towards the flowers. A small bunch--nothing too bright or flashy--another nod to the giver’s personality. Nanu was never a bright or flashy kind of guy. He showed up, did his work, got what he needed done, and went home. No frills, no gimmicks. Looker always had told him how admirable his straightforward personality was during training... He had to wonder, did Nanu ever remember that? 

Lastly, there was a note. Another nod of simplicity that made the officer smile as he read though it. “Ah... N-No need to be sorry...!” He was alone in the office, yet the affirmation aloud split his smile into a wide grin as he took a seat. Certainly, he’d plan for a trip to Po Town to personally thank the elder, or even just write a polite letter of thanks! Either way, the gesture was... sweet. Reeling back to the candy bar, Looker ripped off the paper in a single corner and took a bite, leaning back in his chair in complete satisfaction. Thank you, Mister Nanu...

[secret-agent-man-looker]

··Happy Valentine's Day...? Ugh. I hate saying that. ··

Looker stood, mouth agape and, truthfully, rather flabbergasted at the gesture the elder offered. It was so... abstract to hear Nanu express true holiday cheer, especially to someone who, as politely as Looker can bring himself to put it, ‘upset him in the past’. 

It wasn’t Nanu’s tone or anything other than just the fact that he wished the agent personally a happy holiday. Looker wasn’t sure what to make of it. 

Perhaps it was something of a new beginning, a fresh start, perhaps? Doubtful, as the lifeless lackluster glaze seemed to still be present in Nanu’s big, bold eyes. 

Something about the entire exchange, oddly enough, caused the younger male to grow slightly flushed in his cheeks, a grin extending from ear to ear. If Nanu could be bold... so could he. 

Looker reached out and clasped one of the Kahuna’s hands with both of his own. Something between that of a warm, kind embrace and a distant, professional handshake. To tell truth, Looker wasn’t sure what he was going for here. “Ah, regardless, sir”--boy, did old habits die hard, even after all these years-- “A happy day of the Valentine’s to you as well--I do hope your day is rather joyful...!” 

[secret-agent-man-looker]

Right in the center of his desk she’s left a vase full of flowers with a card nestled among them. The envelope is a soft pink and the card inside it features a fat, happy skitty (and the phrase, “With you I’m FELINE good!”).

The inside of the card reads: ‘I know I usually order in lunch for us both on holidays we have to work, but today I’ll be in and out of meetings until late. However, if you’re not busy tonight and feel up to it, I’d be happy to have you over for dinner instead. Thank you for the years of friendship you’ve given me so far & have a wonderful Valentine’s Day. With love, Anabel.’

The sight of flowers on his desk was an oddity, far too out of place until he recalled of what day it truly was. Valentine’s Day. A day that really held no significant meaning for him in years, unless you were to count the following day in which all the candy and goods were reduced in price–Looker always considered that a good holiday anymore. 

He joked with himself about a possible secret admirer in the building, making his way over to pluck the envelope from the beautiful array of flowers, taking a moment to gather a fresh, lovely scent from the rainbow of colors before him. His knowledge of flowers was nearly non-existent, but he did know of some basics–there were some bright tulips, some cute little daisies–were those… roses mingled in there too? He recalled something about colors and how they all held meanings, but he had no clue about those. Oh well. Still a glorious slight of bright, lively flowers. 

His smile dropped at the sight of his codename handwritten on the envelope, and suddenly, he grew flushed. He knew this handwriting, he’d seen it well over a hundred times and now it’d certainly be over one-hundred and one. “There… There is just no way…” His voice came out as a soft mumble, large hands fumbling with extracting the card from the envelope. 

Looker was greeted with a happy, fat Skitty that seemed to be rather content. In large, bold letters, it accompanied the smiling cat with a rather clever pun, and just like that, the agent’s smile stretched across his face once more… followed by a soft chuckle… which quickly erupted into a loud roar of laughter. “I am feeling good, no, I am feline good…!” 

Still amused by the clever pun, the agent took a moment to gather himself before his eyes caught the note written on the inside. Again, that same familiar handwriting he’d seen on plenty of reports, post-it notes, and so on. Looker swore he felt his heart skip a beat as he read on. 

A little discouraged at the cancellation of their usual holiday lunch break together, he nearly choked on his own breath of air at the invitation to dinner. Dinner. With Anabel. In essence, it would literally be no different than their lunch breaks they frequented. But… this was dinner. Far more important than just a measly lunch. And on top of that, it was after work hours. Far more personal than just a cafeteria and–

He was reading into this far too much. But… Dinner at one’s house kinda, sorta, maybe, technically classified as a date, no? Looker felt himself grow heated in his cheeks once more. No. Oh no, he was reading too deep. It was nothing more than a friendly meal together, as usual. And there was certainly nothing wrong that, in fact, he tended to look forward to the lunch breaks they’d share together. Tonight’s dinner would be no different–save for the rush of having to get back to work. 

Glancing back at the card, it was the final line that really did him in. He stood in the middle of his office, the goofiest grin plastered on his face as he eyes read–even reread the last bit: Thanks for all the years of friendship… It was crazy to think it had been that long since they met–granted not in the circumstances anyone would ever wish to have, but… over ten years. Ten years of support and overcoming hardships in way that seemed, in Looker’s opinion, to surpass just mere colleagues, or even just friendly co-workers but not necessarily the level of romantic. Looker considered himself close with only a select handful of people in his life, and yet, Anabel was in a caliber all her own. Even as his superior, he never needed to put on a fake persona around her. Likewise, neither did she. The two of them held a trust and understanding that seemed so otherworldly, so strange, and yet it felt so natural all these years. Even if tonight would never be a date, it didn’t matter to him. Romance would just be a mere icing on an already amazing cake to him. It wasn’t needed. Looker held himself to a lot of regrets over the past decade, but finding Anabel, battered and broken, on that beachfront and taking her in to safety was, and would, never be one of them. He held no plans to abandon her then and he certainly had no means of ruining anything now. Her friendship was one of a kind, and he certainly wouldn’t trade it for the world. 

Setting the card upright onto the desk, Looker moved to grab a pen and a piece of paper from inside one of his drawers. He penned out a nice note, despite his horrible stretch of penmanship, and wrote:

Chief, Anabel,I have received your lovely gift of flowers (They smell delightful)! And your card (It is very funny)! I also want to inform you that I happily accept your invitation for dinner tonight. I cannot wait! I will see you tonight! I do hope your meetings go well. --Looker

The agent nearly folded up the note, ready to deliver it to the locked office down the hall when he paused. He’d be just slightly bold with this one. With the pen, he took and crossed out his own codename, penning the far more personal ‘Richard’ right beside it. Hopefully she would remember that. 

With a smile, he folded up the note and made his way down the hall, working to slip the note under the door as if he were a giddy little child...

[secret-agent-man-looker]

On a scale of 1 to 10 how handsome would you say you were?

“A-Ah, heh... well...” The agent stammered. He wasn’t the kind of guy to think too highly of himself, but it’s not like he detested himself either. He offered a merely a shrug, “Hm... perhaps on a rather excelling day, I could reach a nice, round seven, maybe...? Hm, maybe more of a six, I am thinking seven may be too high...”

[secret-agent-man-looker]

Lucy nuzzles him, "of course my lovely lovedisc. I would not bring you into a family gathering unless necessary or someone asked. Just like I doubt you would bring me to a meeting with all your police friends unless asked too." She giggles as her shinx rubs on Looker's leg playfully. ((Thanks man. It's getting really stressful cause I have a 10 page paper on these two books my English teacher ordered for my senior project that's due at the end of the month. And the books still aren't in.))

“Oh, no, no, absolutely!” Looker spoke with certainty, “I mean, I do suppose it is different. I would much rather be with your family actually because I would put trust in them not to commit to chaos when I am present. Meanwhile, my fellow colleagues at work do take their duties seriously and if they were to notice you, they would not hesitate in apprehending you, so... yes.”

Taking note of the playful little Pokemon down by his pant leg, Looker smiled as he leaned down to scoop the fluffball into his arms. “Is that not right? It is right, yes it is...!” His tone teetered on that childish, sing-songy voice and just his usual questioning tone, as if the little Shinx were to have a clue about criminal and/or police affairs. 

[secret-agent-man-looker]

remembranceless:

It look longer than she anticipated to walk to the station house from the car; Anabel blamed it on being tired. Deciding that neither of them had time for that, she pushed the thought away again. They keys were turned into the officer at the reception desk with a request to, if possible, get the car back to the place it had been rented from. She doubted she and Mr. Looker would be back for it anytime soon, and it would be a welcome relief to not have to think about dealing with it after the mission. After all, they could always rent another.

On her exit, she saw that the helicopter had already landed and broke into a jog so as to not keep them waiting; it would probably help her image, too, to not look as if she were dragging.

The air that whipped around them from the chopper was inconvenient at best, but she reached for Mr. Looker’s arm almost as soon as she was able, for no real reason except to pull him down to her level—close enough that he could hear her. “It’s been taken care of!” she still had to practically yell, and let him go to push him toward the open side of the helicopter in a silent Let’s go. She reached over to shake the pilot’s hand, introducing herself—fruitlessly, it seemed. It wasn’t as if the man cared…or would remember it later.

Though, it was possible that this was the most excitement the police of the area had had for quite some time, in which case…well, perhaps he would remember.

Once they were both seated, Anabel made a face and moved to untie her hair so that she could redo it, most of the shorter strands having come loose in the gale caused by the helicopter’s whirling blades.  

“When we land, we’ll let my pokémon out so that I can explain the situation to them, but if for some reason we’re not given time to do that, I don’t want you to worry about whether or not they’ll obey you… I trust you, and so they will as well.” She gave him a smile as she gathered her hair back up and retied the ribbon that kept it out of the way. “They will, of course, do their best to protect you, but if this goes anything like the other UB missions have, I think you will be all right… You have a strategic sort of mind, so if you find any particularly good openings for my pokémon to use, please take them.”

She lowered her arms once the ribbon was tied, albeit a little crookedly, and chewed on her lower lip a little as she thought.

“Latios is strong, but he’s getting old… If this thing is as big as they say it is, he shouldn’t have much trouble, but obviously keeping up with something small and fast is…no longer within his capabilities… Raikou tends to tunnel vision his opponent, so if there is a secondary danger he should be worried about, a shouted warning should suffice… And Entei is cocky—not without good reason, but he doesn’t know when to quit and you might have to make that call for him. They should serve you well, though… They’ve always done their best for me—that…that I remember, anyway. Hah…”

She’d been found with them on her person; it was a shame she couldn’t even remember catching them. What had that been like? How long had she had them?

She shook her wonderings away. “Now, what information would you find most useful to know?”

Introductions were short and to the point, and while Looker did he best to hear over the harsh roar of the helicopter, he knew his efforts were in vain. She was Chief. He was Agent. The pilot was some name lost in the noise, and if Looker had to bet, it probably wouldn’t be the same flight crew to extract them from the mission point later on. With the side door slamming shut, he strapped himself in and leaned back against the seat with a sigh. 

He turned to face his attention towards Anabel as she spoke, taken suddenly, if only for a split second, off guard at the volume of lilac hair she tired to gather. For as long as he’d known her, her hair was always tied back and out of the way. A different look like this, if only just a slight alteration, was a chance of pace for him. She looked rather... refined in the new style, not that Chief already didn’t hold an air of power and respect and--

The mission, focus! Focus! Yes, back to your regularly scheduled foreboding of death and destruction. 

He did trust her word, that was established enough. No doubt her pokemon were instilled with a level of strength that would allow them to trust their trainer’s word as well. Perhaps it was because he wasn’t a trainer himself, or, at least he never dared to call himself one since he was a young boy, that he could easily picture them just accepting him as their temporary user. 

He moved to brush his hand over the three pokeballs tucked away at his belt once more. Latios... Raikou... Entei... Something about those names struck him as odd. Perhaps he would pinpoint his curiosity better if he recognized the names as mere legends, mythical beings in the lure of Hoenn and Johto respectively. If he knew the pokemon she had entrusted him with... he have given a slight chuckle. The myths and legends were just that--lure, stories passed down from generation to generation. By his account, if he knew, he’d figure that the pokeballs shout have been empty with nothing in them. But again, he trusted Anabel’s word. There’s no way she’d jeopardize him like this, certainly not in a serious situatoin as they were getting themselves into. Of course, it’d be a question for later on. After the mission. When they both make it out alive. 

“So... Latios is, what I am assuming, rather all-rounded in skill, no? Very versatile. Judging on the situation, I may default to him first. Let me see, erm... it is... Raikou who is focused on a singular opponent, and Entei who cannot learn when to finish, yes?” He ran though the explanations over and over in his head, ingraining them for a better understanding of how to utilizing his temporary team, and how to ensure their safeties all as well as Anabel’s own. He gave a quick nod and spoke up, “I suppose I should ask, hm... Do any of them use any certain moves they are used to? Anything else I should be aware of in terms of how to bring their full potential in attacking?”