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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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Ohhhh. Well, then. You'd be right, of course. Humans are just as much animal as any other and we're all capable of getting bloody when backed in a corner. It's usually best if we admit and accept that.

[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.

Mm. [A sound of agreement on that, though he doesn't believe being backed in a corner is the common impetus for such violence. More just the nature of incomplete beings in general.]

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.

None of us do.

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.

Edited 2020-05-06 21:16 (UTC)

[Solus is quiet as Steven explains, and he absorbs it all quite readily. He's impressed, in a way, with how much Steven can ramble on, and on as he does. He muses to himself as he's reminded of those who had frequented the Hall of Rhetoric in a time forgotten. An amusing thought that's tainted by grief, but he pushes it aside.

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.

But Solus, [Steven says, though not without a degree of sympathy in his tone,] right now you're as mortal as any of us. Whatever else you were, you're in a human body now, with a human body's limits.

You can't lose track of that.

I was occupying a "human" body ere I was forcibly brought here, and being brought here has robbed me not of my generous knowledge.

[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.

Edited (phone tagging is hell) 2020-05-06 23:08 (UTC)

[Steven gazes back at him, his own hazel eyes thoughtful.]

What were you, may I ask?

[Steven's gaze is met with Solus' own, his cat-like smile never dropping.]

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.]

[Steven is going to tell him 'I told you so.' He's already looking forward to it.]

I look forward to seeing your attempt, [he says diplomatically.]

[That's fine, he'll be too drunk and miserable to hear him.]

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.

Unfamiliarity, mostly, [he says, studying his hands. Oh, he's going to enjoy it when you're proven wrong. And he's not going to give you any help now when it comes to not setting off Tyler.]

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.

[There's the slightest raise of his eyebrows at that answer, but he doesn't comment on it. Like he said, it doesn't matter to him whether or not this single mortal thinks he can do exactly as he claims...but boy is he going to feel like a fucking idiot when reality slaps him in his smug mug.

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.

[Ah, space tyrants. As much as he enjoys the familiarity of Solus' florid manners, the threat itself is... well. It's a little gauche. Here Steven is, doing his best to fill him in on what he needs to know, and he insists on spoiling it all by talking down to him and acting as if Steven's his minion to command and not his superior in this organization.]

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.]

[It just comes with the territory, dear Steven. Nothing personal! Honestly, it's a sign that he likes you, to some extent. Otherwise, he'd give no warning at all. He doesn't want to have to kill you because you decided to be an idiot.

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?

[Oh no, Solus, that wasn't the pleasant kind of asphyxiation he was thinking about in regards to you in the heat of the moment. Well. Not pleasant for you.

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.

Edited 2020-05-07 07:48 (UTC)

[A fantasy is a fantasy, it doesn't mean it has to be enjoyed between both parties. But, unfortunately, Solus has a weird idea of kindness. Where, at times, he does what most people would qualify as kindness. Like say, saving one of his enemies' lives, where as other times he tags along and says pointless and rude commentary to piss everyone off and acts like he's the one wronged in the situation.

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.

There are some very clever beasts among the pokemon here, yes, [Steven acknowledges.]

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.

Cleverness has never been the indicator of a soul. Even the most idiotic mortal still has one, after all.

[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.]

Edited 2020-05-07 08:37 (UTC)

[Steven smiles.] Who on?

[He has some thoughts, but he's waiting to hear what Solus thinks first]

Well certainly neither you nor I—perchance some hapless fool.

[After all, who knows exactly what this possession's side effects could be. When an Ascian possessed a body for too long, it greatly made the form susceptible to aether of all sorts.]

Unless you have a better suggestion, that is.

No, [Steven says, thoughtfully.] Some hapless fool should do well. Let's find one of the native grunts.

[Actually—wasn't that pendejo who'd leaked security footage of Connie and Dirk sitting in the far corner of the mess hall from them? Steven smiles once more, this one a bit colder than his others, and indicates the uniformed figure subtly.]

Him.

[With similar subtly, Solus glances the man's way, the corners of his mouth curling into a sly grin.]

Very well.

[Releasing his Yamask, the ghost Pokémon surveys its surroundings with a slightly anxious air, before it focuses its attention on Solus. However, as Solus looks at it, there's clear animosity behind his eyes, yet he seems to keep back whatever he's feeling from his expression otherwise, a lilt to his voice as he speaks. Such a contrast to the edge in his gaze.]

Yamask, do you see that yonder fellow in the corner there? [Less than subtly, the Pokémon looks directly at him, to which Solus quickly corrects with a gentle, yet somehow threatening, caress to its...face? Regardless, he forces it to look at him.] I want you to put your precious mask upon him and possess him for me, would you?

[Almost desperately, the Yamask nods, glances at Steven, then looks to the target once more before seemingly vanishing. Solus looks to Steven for a moment, before shifting to sidelong watch as his creature goes to work. The unsuspecting man none the wiser when Solus' Yamask makes itself visible once again, though out of his view. Quickly, it slips his mask upon the man's face—disappearing once more as there's a momentary struggle, and then the body goes limp in its chair, the mask still tight upon his face.

A moment later, he rises, looking towards them. Then, with a clearly unpracticed gait, he approaches them. Solus looks delight at the success.]

Well, will you look at that. It doesn't seem so, it is so.

Oh. [Steven rises to his feet, so that he can meet the possessed Grunt part-way. He reaches out to gently stroke the cheek of the mask and in a soft, proud voice he says,] Oh, you did very well. Very, very well. Thank you, little ghost. Thank you.

[He glances back at Solus.] What should I call him?

Whatever you wish--I have not given him a name.

[And he doesn't plan to. However, the possessed grunt makes a small, strained noise, like someone trying to speak when they haven't in ages. Less so the problem of an under used voicebox, and more the unpracticed formation of words by the ghost at the wheel.]

Yaa...mmm. My--my name was. Nour.

[Solus perks at that, at the Yamask speaking through his host, curiously tilting his head as he watches and admires.]

Look at you. Possessing and speaking both, I'd wager you have done this before, hm?

["Nour" nods, then brings a hand up to Steven's own on his mask, tentatively touching it.]

Well you heard him, his name was Nour, if you feel the need to honour that, or whatever.

Edited 2020-05-07 18:19 (UTC)

[Steven smiles gently at the Yamask, not at all flinching at the hand on his.]

I'm very pleased to meet you, Nour. At some point when we have time and you've someone to possess, we ought to talk about your life together. I'd love to hear about that.

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