[h2][center]Geralt of Rivia[/center][/h2]
[center]Dystopiascape- Gutsford [/center]
[center]Lvl 9 (129/90) -> Lvl 9 (130/90) [/center]
[center]Word Count: 411 words[/center]
[@Dark Cloud] Benedict

Geralt's eyes narrowed at the description of the G-Men, specifically the part where they could defeat you with a single touch, but elected not to press on that matter. Whether it was an accurate description or an embellishment, something else took Geralt's attention, something that Peach pointed out once they were brought to meet with the 'boss'- these people had been freed from Galeem's control. 

Interesting. They were from Midgar, and had broken from the government when the previous mayor had resigned from his post. That meant they had knowledge of the inner workings of their next target, which would be helpful. 

He followed along with the situation well enough, and though he had no idea what a 'chopper' was, he surmised that it was some kind of vehicle. There were plenty of strange things in this place, so he didn't even bother to imagine what it could be. He'd shot down a flying boat earlier in the day, after all. Nothing was normal here. 

The G-men were being organized by a highly-trained, highly-skilled, high-ranking officer of the Investigators working for Midgar. And this person's presence meant that they were, for all intents and purposes, about to be caught in a trap. 

So, Tuesday, then. Alright, they had this handled. A pair of runners volunteered to distract the G-Men in the back and draw them away. At the same time, they needed somebody up front to distract those coming in that way. Geralt nodded as they prepared to get moving. "I'll take the front. I'm old enough I can make something up and either play the doddering fool or the experienced warrior, whichever I figure will buy us more time. Might even swap between the two to play up the pity factor." Geralt smirked. Vesemir taught him something useful after all, it seemed. 

With that being said, he headed to the front of the shop, greeting the Turk who entered with a nod. "Lovely day we're having, isn't it? Just stopping in for some pet food for our companion's Poke...things. Always slips my mind what they're called. Pony toes?" Geralt started with a simple enough excuse, but one with the truth behind it: he had no idea what that thing that walked up to Bede before was called, other than Pony-something. He remembered that the creatures were called Pokemon, for sure, but the rest escaped him completely. 

"What brings you to this neck of the woods?" Geralt probed the bespectacled man.