RockXIII, Decembre 14th, 2009
Wehc was chuckling. "Hnhnhnhnhn.... Well, is THIS grand!?"
Right now, Wehc was standing inside the Attara TV Building, or, at least, it looked exactly like it. He was smart enough to know that Palkia wouldn't send the group to random places in their world; he would have sent them anywhere BUT their world, for sure, most likely another dimension, as that's what Palkia was know for, right? Being the Space-Time Pokemon. The very thought of being sent to another dimension by a "near-god" simply exhilarated Wehc to the fullest.
His heart was pounding, hands shaking with anxiety, adrenaline running through his veins... he felt like a rebellious teenager again.... And best of all, when his report on Team Temporal was done, this part alone would probably hit the front pages for The Cyren Weekly. Well, depending on what happens, of course. In fact, there wouldn't even be a story if he didn't get back, so he had to think of a way. But later. Right now, he couldn't afford to waste this time dillydallying around, as there was important information to collect.
Wehc strode down the hallways, checking the signs over the back stage doors to ongoing television broadcasts, checking for his fake IDs and passes, along with his real ones to make sure that none of them looked/ were expired. He did, in fact, find a couple and placed them inside the collar pockets of his coat, just in time, too; a security guard walked right around the corner just when he placed the false pass to "Jeffery's Poketalk Show" inside of it. They nodded as they passed each other.
Wandering along the halls, Wehc was growing increasingly frustrated, as he couldn't find the one room the he was looking for: The Record Room. The media had all sorts of dirt on people today that had appeared in the form of a conversation on a talk show to headlines in the daily paper; there had even been secrets found out about Wehc, about him and relations to the Mafia. He even confessed to having ties with them, but only so that he could get help with some inside scoops. However, that was only a half-lie. Sometimes he needed to persuade some people for what ever reason, or has had to track somebody down, even "take care" of some people. But nobody knows that.
Perhaps it's on another floor, he reasoned with himself, shrugging. He took out a cigar and lit it, seeing that he has not smoked in about a week, so perhaps that's why he was feeling this way: nicotine withdrawal. He took a long drag on it then blew seven perfect smoke rings, feeling himself grin with pride after the last one. Nobody could blow smoke rings like him, and he liked to keep it that way.
After about fifteen minutes of smoking, he was told to stop by another security guard, or to leave the building. He apologized, then threw the entire thing in the nearest trash bin. He watched the guard walked off, his face emotionless. Something wasn't right about him, or the guard before him. Wehc was beginning to get suspicious.
As if that didn't set him off enough, just as he reached the elevator on the other side of the floor, a sudden voice from behind said, "If you are looking for information, why not ask me?"
He turned on his heels, and saw, in an array of different kinds of leaves, Daebi, materializing from thin air.
Then, behind him, the elevator door opened, making him once again turn on his heels to see who was there. This was surely an Aspect, but he knew not of this one; it was clearly new. It also reminded him of Spectrum, but only vaguely, as if this was an Aspect of a clone of her. "Do not listen to her. I have more information that will be even more helpful in your quest."
"But you will only tell him, will you Jiroid, when he pays your 'price'?" said Daebi coldly.
The Aspect dubbed Jiroid retorted, "At least MY knowledge will be of use to him. And I no longer go by that name, I go by 'Jiritina'."
"Ah, so you have become obsessed with the ruler of that distorted world?"
"Well I'M not overcompensating with all those leaves!"
"How is THAT overcompensating!?"
"Ha! It seems that you do NOT know anything useful, DO YOU?"
The two Aspects were inside each others' personal bubble glaring at each other while Wehc jotted down this argument in his "Other Stuff" notebook.