Video;
[When the feed cuts on, it's later in the evening, well after the first day of Rocket training, and thus Emet-Selch is not wearing his uniform while in his little dormitory. What he is wearing is far more extravagant. Yes, he took the time to put that thing back on, he wasn't about to suffer the alternative longer than what was necessary. Of course there are likely those who saw him in that most abhorrent uniform, if others were in training or aiding in the training that is. All of which he's been entirely quick in mastering, almost as if he's already...mastered such trivial skills. He has, and plus some.
Regardless, that's not what this is about. Well, it kinda is, actually.]
Good evening, I am Solus zos Galvus—your newest recruit to this fine organization of unscrupulous villains. Certainly prompt with the training, aren't they? That sort of rigid discipline I can most certainly respect—after all, with poor foundation, you cannot expect aught else but for everything to come crumbling down around you.
[He settles back in his seat, resting his elbow on the desk he's clearly sitting at, cupping his cheek with the palm of his hand as he lazily gazes into the feed.]
Regardless, such training is wasted on one such as I, but I understand rules are rules, and even I am no exception. [There's the slightest edge of annoyance to his tone, but it disappears as he continues.] Regardless, 'twould do us well to know each other properly, wouldn't you agree? So come, introduce yourselves to me. For I will know each and every one of you, as well as what rank you hold—what skill sets you have, and so forth.
If I am to familiarize myself with this team, to know which holes my expertise should rightly fill, then I must take your measure.
Regardless, that's not what this is about. Well, it kinda is, actually.]
Good evening, I am Solus zos Galvus—your newest recruit to this fine organization of unscrupulous villains. Certainly prompt with the training, aren't they? That sort of rigid discipline I can most certainly respect—after all, with poor foundation, you cannot expect aught else but for everything to come crumbling down around you.
[He settles back in his seat, resting his elbow on the desk he's clearly sitting at, cupping his cheek with the palm of his hand as he lazily gazes into the feed.]
Regardless, such training is wasted on one such as I, but I understand rules are rules, and even I am no exception. [There's the slightest edge of annoyance to his tone, but it disappears as he continues.] Regardless, 'twould do us well to know each other properly, wouldn't you agree? So come, introduce yourselves to me. For I will know each and every one of you, as well as what rank you hold—what skill sets you have, and so forth.
If I am to familiarize myself with this team, to know which holes my expertise should rightly fill, then I must take your measure.
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[There's an amused quirk to his lip at the statement.]
And actually, our little group within the team has doubled in size from what it was prior to my arrival. But really, I daresay we're the most competent crew in Team Rocket as things stand. We certainly seem to bring them results regularly. And we're all of us, even Steve Palchuk, smarter than your average Grunt.
[Which is less of a compliment to Steve P as it is an insult to the average grunt.]
Ah, but considering what you said about your previous history, I should probably warn you that your ability to do violence will be unfortunately curtailed in this world. The Jennies--the local constabulary, they're disconcertingly identical women--have a tendency to throw anyone caught with most enemies into jail for a week. And for whatever reason, attempts to kill your fellow transplants with your bare hands result in them being teleported to a Pokecenter to be healed--with half their available funds gone as a result. [He examines his own long-fingered hands for a moment, before looking back to Solus.] Rendering someone unconscious, however, is perfectly doable.
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Awful presumptuous to think I'd so readily take to violence, aren't we? I know I told you I was an imperialist, but you need not make such snap judgments, friend. Besides, do I look the sort that would bloody a man for the thrill of it?
[Don't answer that.]
Regardless, I must admit such news is...troubling. Not because I want to kill anyone, of course, but rather I am left to wonder what magics are at play to cause such a bizarre teleportation from harm.
Truly fascinating, if mind boggling.
'most weapons' not 'most enemies' omg
[Don't be like him, who had a minor crisis of conscience when he realized just how much he enjoyed
choking outstrangling a security guard into unconsciousness. Even if his space tyrant boyfriend did help him get his head on straight about that one.]It seems to be more divine powers than magics—the space llama god that summons us is said to be the one who does it.
haha welcome to my world, always seeing typos too late...
[Of course he will deal with violence should it come to it, but he does avoid it when he can. More because of the energy behind it, than anything more morally inclined, or so he'd pretend, anyway.]
...This is the second time I've heard of this creature, and ever is my curiosity piqued. Though, be no fool, divinity is all its own magic, only fools believe otherwise.
[Considering that he himself is more or less a god, and his people created the first actual god of sorts. He knows a bit about divine powers.]
Re: haha welcome to my world, always seeing typos too late...
You would have to ask Jack more about the god, I'm afraid. He knows the most, having been here longest.
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[Or so he says, but it's just as likely that Steven will learn how wicked he can rightly be.]
Well, perhaps I will have to take him up on his offer concerning where to get a proper drink, if he's got information worth seeking. With that being said...how long has he been held captive in this realm?
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[It's helped him to, definitely.]
And yes, I do look forward to getting to know you, Solus. [Said without a hint of flirtation, though perhaps with a trace of amusement. He suspects, and rightly so, that Solus is his kind of person.]
And-- it's been years for Jack, I'm afraid. And he isn't the only one who's been here for that long as far as otherworld transplants go--although he is the only one who has in Team Rocket.
You understand, of course, that there are more than just our crew here from other worlds, yes? There's another channel on the pokegear where everyone may be reached, not just us. The others all seem to awaken in New Bark Town, in the house of the false mother. You'll want to pretend you did too if one of them asks.
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I am sure we will become fast friends.
[He flashes him a coy smile at that, not reading the admission to mean more than what he said. He's incredibly skilled at reading people, and so that sort of familiarity between them that Steven is getting is certainly noticed. Though, the exacts of what it is are not so easily gleamed.]
But years for Jack, is it? How troublesome. It would explain why he's been able maintain such a strong presence. As for the others not involved with this organization...I had indeed surmised as such. There is a man here from my own world who seemingly arrived at the same time as me.
But, he must have suffered that false mother, seeing as he is decidedly not with the Team. A fact I find...rather curious. I'll be sure to keep to the script, I have little interest in my affiliation becoming general knowledge.
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Hopefully it won't become a question until you've had an opportunity to visit Cherrygrove and Violet and get the fast-travel warps you've missed waking up here instead of there. I had to claim I hitched a ride on another's Flying pokemon from New Bark to here to explain why I haven't them. But since Goldenrod is the main urban center of Johto, it was easy enough to see why I'd head directly here without taking the traditional route.
The false mother, so far as I know, is a woman who is there when you wake up that claims to be your mother and is patently not. She gives you a bag and hustles you out her door and then you're alone in this world.
Honestly, in some ways it's easier to wake up in the care of Team Rocket. Sure, you're forced to endure mandatory training your first week and every so often they call us up for some mission, but once training week is over, all you really need to do is turn in a sufficiently high level pokemon every other week for your quota. Granted, they're meant to be stolen pokemon, but they really don't check.
Otherwise, your time is your own. And for this, you get a weekly stipend--which increases with rank--and you're allowed to expense travel costs and anything else that might occur during your work for the team. [He chuckles.] We've all gotten very good at justifying said expenses.
That said, if you seek supplementary employment, the team will provide that as well. I myself am a member of the newsroom at the Goldenrod Radio Tower. [He just got the promotion in fact and he's so goddamn happy they're letting him work in his actual field again.] There's a few position they won't sponsor you for unless you're Beta or above, of course--but that's just more reason to work to advance within the team.
[Which, even more than not wanting to share a rank with Steve Palchuk, is why Steven's working so hard on making it to Beta as soon as he can. He wants to go on the air.]
They've got several science positions open, I know that much. Dirk works for them in that capacity. And Tyler's part of Data Collection for now, although that might change once the business venture the two of us and Jack are working on is ready.
But yes. It's been years for Jack. I-- wouldn't discount his warning, by the way. Jack's good with tech. He's a genius in his field, in fact--I say this as a man who's merely intelligent, but can recognize brilliance and genius when he sees it.
The truth, Solus, [Steven says very quietly, the kind of quiet that makes you focus on someone's words,] is that the best way to get power in this world is through money, not superior technology or conquest. But you'll see in time.
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He does give acknowlding sounds and nods at each point, confirming his attention, even if he has little to say on certain parts. Mainly he has thoughts, ones to keep to himself, than any true comment worth sharing. However, despite himself, as Steven went on to praise Jack's intelligence, his expression becomes almost smug, though not one of disbelief.
Solus knew well that mortals could be competent, but often their "geniuses" were the lowest common denominator for ones such as he. So the praise does little to prove Jack's intelligence, nor does it discourage him from his designs. Call him arrogant.]
...Nay, 'tis still conquest. Just of another nature. Power and control takes many forms, and it speaks many, many languages. It is mere a matter of deciphering which is most effective, but 'twould seem Jack has done the work for all of us in puzzling that out. There are many means to dominate and conquer than crude violence.
As for the matter of their technology, and Jack's inherent technological prowess--I am one for facts, for the truth, and while I have little reason to doubt both him and you, I will see for myself the true limits.
[He shrugs, gesturing a little widely with one hand.]
I am not one bound by the limits of mortals.
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You can't lose track of that.
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[He tilts his head with a grin, his yellow eyes scanning over Steven's features with a curious sort of scrutiny.]
I know most keenly the weaknesses that have been imposed upon me, you need not worry. I am not in the habit of losing track of aught at all, least of which that ensures my continued existence.
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What were you, may I ask?
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That is a talk for another time--for it is of no consequence in the present. But know you this: your words and mine are but wind, till the truth of them is put to the proof.
I doubt not that Jack met his mortal limits, nor that his limits are impressive among those of his kind. But limits are not universal, try as this realm might to stifle me, I will put the proof to my claims ere long.
[Man is it gonna be embarrassing when he doesn't.]
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I look forward to seeing your attempt, [he says diplomatically.]
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Tell me...is your lack of faith in me because of our unfamiliarity, or because you cannot bare the thought that your lover might not be as brilliant of a man as you believe he is?
Neither is of consequence to me, rest assured, for I would have expired long ago if I needed the acknowledgment of mortals to achieve aught at all.
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Hm. I think I've already covered most of what you'll need to know as a new Grunt. Oh-- the weird weekends. I should apprise you of those. Mind you, it's nothing that's happened since I've been here, but I'm told by the others that ever so often, maybe twice a year, the forces that keep our abilities confined and make us human just-- turn off. And for the space of a weekend, we're ourselves again, with more or less our proper capabilities. [Except they still can't kill anyone, evidently. Which is a pity.] You won't know when. None of us will. But you should keep in mind that it will happen at some point.
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At that rich nugget of information, Solus looks almost devilish, but then allows his features to return to something more neutral-leaning.]
How veeeery interesting.
I shall look forward to this random weekend—and perhaps I shall repay your warnings in kind: you do not want to be mine enemy. Particularly when such a time as this weekend happens. I am a foe like no other, but should you continue to prove yourself useful to me and, dare I say it, pleasant company, then you have naught to worry about.
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I'll keep that in mind, Solus, [he says, pleasantly as ever--and imagines, for a brief moment, his hands around the old queen's neck, squeezing.]
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Also wow, Steven. Keep Solus out of your asphyxiation fantasies!]
See that you do. [He offers a little cheerily, but then his eyes fall to the suitcase in the chair, an eyebrow quirking, before his gaze goes back to Steven.] Moving along: you had mentioned research material about the Yamask and wanting to meet it, correct?
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A man has his pride, you see. A man doesn't like being dismissed after he's gone to such trouble for you, even if it's because you've decided you like him.]
If possible, yes. [He opens the briefcase on the chair and retrieves various print-outs that he sets on the table.]
So. The first thing we should note is that Yamask are one of the ghost-types that were assuredly human at one point. The masks they carry are meant to be replicas of their faces in life.
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For the first time in this conversation Solus' face shifts with that bit of information. He hadn't known the full details of it, but he had surmised something. After all, his kind were ghosts of sorts, wearing masks that meant something in the life they had lost eons ago.
The momentary tension in his face eases, and that smile returns in short order.]
Would not the fact they are ghosts already imply they were once human? Or are some of these ghosts the remnant souls of beasts? One would wager beasts unlikely candidates to have enough presence of a soul to truly remain after their demise, but I am coming to realize that this world defies logic to an insufferable degree.
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But yes. They are the remnant souls of humans. They commonly roam around ancient ruins--which would explain why you can only catch them in places like Alph. If a mortal human puts on the mask, it seems, said human will be possessed by Yamask. It cannot talk in its natural form, but can when possessing another's body.
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[At this news, Solus cannot help but scoff. This was horrifically on the nose.]
Well, isn't that useful. 'Twould seem this partner of mine has more at his disposal than I previously gave him credit for. Or so it seems, you say. Mayhap we should do a little experiment?
[As he ask, he draws the ball from his coat, holding it up as he examines it idly.]
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[He has some thoughts, but he's waiting to hear what Solus thinks first]
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