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[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.

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That's what they say, I cannot confirm or deny its existence. [Nor does she care about Arceus that much to begin with other than having a bone to pick with him for nerfing the hell out of her.

For what little she's trying to be polite, she does, unfortunately, have her limits.]

It would depend on how different your elves are from one another. There is more than just "elf" where I am from and the differences are far more than just appearances, I can assure you. [Like drow. Who are a hell of a thing she does not go near with a ten foot pole. Safest bet, safest bet.]

I do miss seeing things other than humans, even if they were still the vast majority in the major cities. They breed like rabbits and seem to have the intelligence of them most of the time. A few exceptions, a very rare few.

[Perhaps it's better to not mention how she ended up here, otherwise that resilient commentary would seem anything but fit.]

I suppose we are. I will, however, give you one warning if you do come across the others physically here. The one you were speaking with as well, Tyler? Don't piss off the bird that sits on his shoulder. It's not a grand time.

[Well then, seems he'll just have to research into this space god llama himself, if she's so useless with the information!]

Yes, yes. There are elves--though depending where you are, they call themselves elezen--and there are differences between them. For example, one pair's variance came from the results of a calamity, where one half stayed underground, while the other embraced the will of the elementals and returned to the surface to once against bask in the light of the glorious sun.

This split the two, physically and socially, and even today they squabble and fight with one another as if they were not brethren once upon a time. It's quite petty, if I do say so myself.

[He cannot imagine the logic behind it, for he wouldn't raise a hand against a fellow Ascian nor Amaurotine, unless the reason was truly worth the moral sacrifice.]

However, you are right about humans--though I'm more familiar with the term Hyur, but 'tis all the same. Simple creatures, more willing to entertain their baser instincts than do much else worthwhile. Though, in my experience, such is the nature of those with fleeting lives.

[If you can't tell, he doesn't care for mortals one bit.]

Tyler and his bird, hm? Well worry not, I am not in the habit of annoying fowel, but your warning has been noted.

[She has no reason to care about something that might be utter bullshit!]

I suppose there is something of that sort where I'm from as well. Though they would be called drow, the ones who live underground, with a matriarchal society last I heard. Nasty group, that, and ones I tend to stay away from. Though there are your other varieties such as wood elves, sun elves, moon elves... that sort of thing. There may be more I'm unaware of, but that's as far as I really care about it. [Because she's a snooty bitch and everything else is really beneath her.]

Such it is, indeed. And so easy to manipulate if you can cater to such basic instincts. Though I can say much the same of many of the other races. Though they have more... specific tastes than humans do. But humans tend to be the majority instead of something like, say, dwarves or halflings. Or their half-bred cousins of any of the other races. [There seems to be a particular underline of distaste to that, but she doesn't seem to be interested in explaining it if there is.]

Oh, it's less you annoying her and more of pushing his buttons. But such is the nature with a good majority of psychic Pokemon, they tend to pick up on things from their trainers.

[It might be the key to leaving!!!]

Mm, yes there are key differences—which is to be expected—yet the similarities are still intriguing on their own. I suppose mortals are expected to follow similar paths, regardless of the differences in their circumstances. Through the ages, all of the spoken races of my star have gone through myriad changes and distinctions, either socially or physically, but 'tis to be expected. 'Tis the wont of all mortals.

Size, shape, color—it matters not. All hunger for the same thing at the core of it, all fall for the same ruses, outliers notwithstanding. It's awful pitiful, isn't?

[Mortals are dumb animals that just never learn, so it's whatever.]

Anyroad, I'll keep that in mind about psychic types, and particularly that bird. Little do I wish to be accosted by any such creature.

Edited 2020-05-07 22:38 (UTC)

[But then she goes to a place where she's dead, her brother's dead, and Wonderland is basically dead. Not worth the time.]

In the centuries I have since run Wonderland back home, time and time again had it proven to me that you really do not need to change much if you promise someone their most desired wish. You need not even specify exactly what it is, they all fall in line as if it's something they can truly obtain. A pathetic display to watch how they'll continually throw their own travelling and adventuring companions under the metaphorical bus to obtain such a goal.

Even if it doesn't exist.

But they never truly understand until it's too late and everything has already happened and been done. Every. Single. Time.

[Which made her survival all the better, nor do they speak of the adventurers that finally ended her whole career, oh well.]

For the better. Nor should you wish to get on my bad side, either. [That's her toy, Solus.]

[That's fair, he doesn't quite know what's awaiting him upon his return, so...]

Ever are they simple creatures, and ever do they deny such. Their suffocating lack of self-awareness is most pointedly absurd at times.

[Which is all there is really to say on the matter. Well, no that's not true, but honestly, mortals suck. At her...warning, he grins slyly, eyebrows raising ever so slightly to accompany the expression.]

Oh? And I am to assume that this boy would be source of your aforementioned bad side? [Got a weak spot, do ya???]

Whether it be human, elf, dwarf, or otherwise, it all ends the same. [And it all ended up in quite a nice feat of sorts.

As for his expression shifting, her eyes narrow for a brief second before returning to her neutral position. No need to give him that courtesy.]

Merely not a fan of people touching my toys without permission, darling. That's all. I'm sure you can understand that much.

Truly.

[At least someone here gets it.]

Pray, I would not dream of playing with your toys, I've a modicum of decorum.

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