silph_co | Video;

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.

Threaded | Flat

[Oh, this is an interesting one and she can certainly respect the choice in clothing, a little much for business, but totally fine on downtime like this.

Which might be why when she switches the video on that there's her sitting on her couch in a rather lovely outfit with a liepard on one side, a pyroar at her feet, a luxray to her other side, and a galarian Meowth on her lap. Don't ask.]

Welcome to the most incompetent organization if you want to listen to any of the natives to this place. But fairly competent if you look at the transplants~

I'm Lydia, darling, I'd venture one of the oldest of age here, but I've only been here a couple of months. Unfortunately a little neutered without my magic but I still tend to run distraction on the majority of things I get up to. Illusions are, were now I suppose, my specialty. But if you needed ghost Pokemon, then I'm one of the two to really talk to.

Edited (MOBILE TAGGING... o9) 2020-05-04 13:45 (UTC)

[He is so glad that Isis has improved enough to give him direct words instead of vague impressions, or he'd have never understood half of what this guy was rambling about.

Tyler's footage shows a beach-themed hotel; the young man himself is sitting at a desk wearing a comfortable black shirt under an open navy peacoat, and an undersized Natu on his shoulder is staring at the floating camera - definitely floating, because it twitches every now and then, changing position slightly, and Tyler is using both hands to speak in sign language at the camera: and lines of text appear on the screen as he does.]

Welcome to the team, I guess. So long as you're not an idiot who goes around revealing you're in Team Rocket, you'll do well here.

I'm Tyler. I'm the oldest of the young half - and deaf, to explain the [He pauses, and makes a broad gesture with his hands at his general set-up.] everything. I personally specialise in Psychic types with a major in hypnosis and memory alteration, and status effects for good measure.

Edited 2020-05-04 13:34 (UTC)

[This particular video feed will show a man sitting at a kitchen table with his hands folded in front of him. He's dark and handsome—he might be tall too, it's hard to tell from where he's sitting. He's certainly broad, anyway. He's got glasses over his hazel eyes and a light beard the same black color as his hair and he's wearing a light-colored button-down shirt.

His voice when he speaks is a pleasant tenor, with a newscaster's lack of accent.]

Hello, Solus—may I call you 'Solus?' In any case, I'm Steven Durante and I'm currently a Private with Team Rocket. As far as Pokemon go, I specialize in Ghosts, mainly—much like with Lydia—and these days ones that drain life force in particular. [There's the slightest hint of amusement in his tone at that declaration.]

Otherwise, I suppose I mostly specialize in... paperwork, I guess. Keeping track of things for our crew in particular. Some public relations. And if you need Handsome Jack's help with anything and would rather have a go-between than address him directly, I would be your man.

Ah. Jack would be the leader of our particular crew—but I'll let him explain the rest of that himself. Suffice to say, he's our only Alpha.

Sorry, I can't video call you right now—I'm on the road with a civilian, and it would be kinda awkward if she found out about my job like this.

I'm Connie Maheswaran, one of your fellow transplant grunts. Fifteen years old—since people are apparently surprised by how young I am—and I'm as human here as I was back home. Here's a pic of me and my public team.

[A selfie of Connie in a blue sari is attached to the post. She's posing in front of what looks like an exploding Gigantamax Toxtricity just about to shrink back down to its normal size with an impressively large Aegislash hefted across her shoulder. A Gallade stands back to back with her, smiling cockily, and a grumpy-looking Dragonite hovers at her side, arms crossed as two (four?) Doublades hover around her. Judging by the five sheaths on Connie's back, she isn't handling her Aegislash like that just for show.]

And here's me when I'm all dolled up for operations.

[Connie is a few inches taller in this photo, but that's the least surprising change. In addition to the billowy sleeves, hakama pants, and streaks of gold flowing across her Rocket uniform, Connie's skin is entirely blue and golden lines run up her face and into the thick white bangs that conceal her eyes. The white wig's perfectly straight locks cascade down to her waist, and she's even doing the dignity laugh pose. Aw. How adorable.]

I'd post a pic of my Infiltration Team, but Case has made a game of deleting anything with their faces on it, which is both good training and praxis so I can't stop it. Anyways, I'm looking forward to working with you.

[Wherever Carly is appears to be...inside a tent. Aw. Still.

She adjusts her glasses at the intro.] Hehh, wow, you're right to the point..! It's nice to see that actually...

Ah, I'm Carly. I'm one of the Privates here, though I'm not going to be on base for a while...

Oh, but I specialize in sabatogue and disguise~

And also recon, I guess...I was an investigative reporter at home haha...

[And she is Far more canny than she lets on. But the list of skills probably say that for her.]

Well hey there buddy!

What the hell is going on, years and there's like no transfers over here and all of a sudden I can't shake a stick without hitting a transfer grunt.

Pro-tip: don't take this pathetic excuse for a functional organization that seriously. The admins? They do not give that much of a shit about you. Or any of us, really.

Me, on the other hand? I'm Handsome Jack, the highest ranking dude around here, you defer to me. And I do give a shit. So actually, you're the one who should be telling me your skills and how you might be useful to my team. Ask anybody on this network, I take care of my people.

[Okay, so I'm late to the party. That's cool. It's fine. It's really whatever.

Another day, another import. Is it just me or are the intervals between arrivals decreasing with the passage of time?

Truth is, though, I just don't care. Not about this new face, not about his particularly affected diction, not about whatever special snowflake bullshit he thinks he has going on. Not today. Not this week. Maybe later, when his fresh-off-the-boat adjustment period is tapering off and the conversation is something other than paradox space's most excruciating "nice to meet you now whip it out for me" dick measuring, round number whatever. I gotta fake it, I'm well aware of that. But I'm just not that impressed.]

Oh, it's that time again already, huh.

Sorry I'm late, I had a prior engagement with the endless abyss of my own collective unconscious.

So I take it you've had all the tedious little introductory conversations by now? Someone's already told you that whatever you had going on back in home canon is functionally worthless in this one?

Threaded | Flat

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