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[Action | Goldenrod Rocket H.Q.]
Who: Lucas Baker and OPEN!
Where: Team Rocket H.Q., Goldenrod City
When: June 4th-5th-ish!
Summary: Welcome to the team, son.
Rating: Language.
[Well!
Well, well, well, welly-well well well.
Coming to wasn't a big shock. It was jarring, yeah. Not too shocking once the snap-awake wore off and heated off into... boiling what the -- hell's going on, what did they DO agitation.
Nor was coming to in some unfamiliar dark room. A cell, right -- ?! Looks like someone had... got the jump on him, planted a trap, or some shit, were gonna -- come in and haul him off any moment, shove him in a chair, smack him around, slice him open to quote-unquote see the E-mutamycete in action, orrrr maybe just give him a talking to! Who knows?! He sure wouldn't once he hauled ass, got his bearings! Jimmied the fuck out of a way out of here -- ...
That -- said, ahh.
The first big surprise!
The bag.
The bag and the two capsules. With a little booklet.
Like... some kind of a "care package". To be sighed and grinned into with airquotes.
'Course he cracked into it.
All of it.
The booklet - mouth and eyes... dropping open as the later skimmed. Things parsed in a minor electrical hum.
The bag. Basically just... camping supplies.
The capsules -- with a start at the flash of light careful careful careful careful! and a giggle and a whoop and a WHOA! at the appearance of a little blue alligator, some kind of skeletal Doberman puppy...!
Got on the ground with them for a little bit! A mix of excited, detached wonder and experrrrrimental probing. Heyyyyy, little buddy...! Hee hee - don't'cha pull no tricks on me, will ya -- ? Noooo, I'll get'cha if ya do -- ...! Thaaat's right -- you're gonna be my monster friend -- ! Tentative pokes and finger-wiggles on the nose with just one snap-withdrawal from a playful clap! of jaws and a wag and a noooooo, you don't!
All in all, looks like he was found mid-hustle, all right.
Byyyyy another hopeful connection! Ha -- and here he thought he was doin' a good job layin' low; looks like his name's really gotten out there...
...All a... wry pattern of thoughts. Something to prop himself up on -- swell his chest and put a backlight to a heavy, heavy, sneery smile.
Twitching a little in the face with somethin' threatening to pull loose and snap.
'Cauuuuuse he doesn't much appreciate being yoinked out of some perfectly good business of his own, hauled away to God knows where, and "volunteered" for something, thank-a-you very much...!
Not -- to say it isn't a tastier arrangement than getting thrown into the slammer as a criminal or a traitor or an overgrown science sample. Who knows! It could be an out!
Orrrr it could be a bone to pick -- ...!
A little from Column A, a little from Column B.
By now, he's cracked open the door to the hall. Holding himself 'bout as straight - if not all-vertically - and still as he gets. Darting a look one way, the other, lowering a hand out by his side into a hold up -- ! stance, continuing to peeek around...
...Aaaand, between the silence of the hall and behind him...!
His brow shoots up. He flicks to turn a look back and over his shoulder at the two, ah... critters. A little chase up his spine to spin a thrill into his head -- hoo, he... sure did just turn his back on the things -- ...
But he dispels it with a cough into a laugh -- !]
-- Aaaiiin't you two comin' with -- ?
[Upward-diagonal inflection in a straight time, with the pitch but none of the flourish and tie-off of a question. Palm goes up, arm curves a jammed swing through the doorway. As he holds a smile with teeth 'n big ol' eyes up on the creatures. All of it deliberate, but... without heart.
A bit of a tentative brand of playing. Bopping something on the nose a few time with a stick to watch it snap and sneeze. Not laughing before you know it'll catch anything you throw and not take a chomp at you.]
Where: Team Rocket H.Q., Goldenrod City
When: June 4th-5th-ish!
Summary: Welcome to the team, son.
Rating: Language.
[Well!
Well, well, well, welly-well well well.
Coming to wasn't a big shock. It was jarring, yeah. Not too shocking once the snap-awake wore off and heated off into... boiling what the -- hell's going on, what did they DO agitation.
Nor was coming to in some unfamiliar dark room. A cell, right -- ?! Looks like someone had... got the jump on him, planted a trap, or some shit, were gonna -- come in and haul him off any moment, shove him in a chair, smack him around, slice him open to quote-unquote see the E-mutamycete in action, orrrr maybe just give him a talking to! Who knows?! He sure wouldn't once he hauled ass, got his bearings! Jimmied the fuck out of a way out of here -- ...
That -- said, ahh.
The first big surprise!
The bag.
The bag and the two capsules. With a little booklet.
Like... some kind of a "care package". To be sighed and grinned into with airquotes.
'Course he cracked into it.
All of it.
The booklet - mouth and eyes... dropping open as the later skimmed. Things parsed in a minor electrical hum.
The bag. Basically just... camping supplies.
The capsules -- with a start at the flash of light careful careful careful careful! and a giggle and a whoop and a WHOA! at the appearance of a little blue alligator, some kind of skeletal Doberman puppy...!
Got on the ground with them for a little bit! A mix of excited, detached wonder and experrrrrimental probing. Heyyyyy, little buddy...! Hee hee - don't'cha pull no tricks on me, will ya -- ? Noooo, I'll get'cha if ya do -- ...! Thaaat's right -- you're gonna be my monster friend -- ! Tentative pokes and finger-wiggles on the nose with just one snap-withdrawal from a playful clap! of jaws and a wag and a noooooo, you don't!
All in all, looks like he was found mid-hustle, all right.
Byyyyy another hopeful connection! Ha -- and here he thought he was doin' a good job layin' low; looks like his name's really gotten out there...
...All a... wry pattern of thoughts. Something to prop himself up on -- swell his chest and put a backlight to a heavy, heavy, sneery smile.
Twitching a little in the face with somethin' threatening to pull loose and snap.
'Cauuuuuse he doesn't much appreciate being yoinked out of some perfectly good business of his own, hauled away to God knows where, and "volunteered" for something, thank-a-you very much...!
Not -- to say it isn't a tastier arrangement than getting thrown into the slammer as a criminal or a traitor or an overgrown science sample. Who knows! It could be an out!
Orrrr it could be a bone to pick -- ...!
A little from Column A, a little from Column B.
By now, he's cracked open the door to the hall. Holding himself 'bout as straight - if not all-vertically - and still as he gets. Darting a look one way, the other, lowering a hand out by his side into a hold up -- ! stance, continuing to peeek around...
...Aaaand, between the silence of the hall and behind him...!
His brow shoots up. He flicks to turn a look back and over his shoulder at the two, ah... critters. A little chase up his spine to spin a thrill into his head -- hoo, he... sure did just turn his back on the things -- ...
But he dispels it with a cough into a laugh -- !]
-- Aaaiiin't you two comin' with -- ?
[Upward-diagonal inflection in a straight time, with the pitch but none of the flourish and tie-off of a question. Palm goes up, arm curves a jammed swing through the doorway. As he holds a smile with teeth 'n big ol' eyes up on the creatures. All of it deliberate, but... without heart.
A bit of a tentative brand of playing. Bopping something on the nose a few time with a stick to watch it snap and sneeze. Not laughing before you know it'll catch anything you throw and not take a chomp at you.]
no subject
[Jack's been spending a lot of time at HQ lately. He has a nice room there now, and he doesn't like hanging around the house by himself. Plus he's been a busy little Rocket.]
[He's heading down the hall with two of his dog Pokemon on either side - Havoc the frighteningly ripped Houndoom and Taylor Swift the Debutante cut Fufrou - when he sees the new guy. A cigarette dangles out of the corner of his mouth and while he is wearing his Team Rocket shirt...he's also wearing it under a black leather jacket and with a pair of jeans and sneakers.]
Hey! You! C'mere.
[Who has time for small talk? New faces are kinda rare around here, his curiosity is at the forefront.]
no subject
Joints buckling down. Head held low under a raised hood.
There's...!
...a tight, tight squeeze of pressure in his chest and needling out through his shoulderblades, fuck, there's a guy there, with some kinda attack dogs, fuck fuck fuck...!
...Aaaand a breath that sucks maybe too high in through his nose...! A wind with a little whistle that swells him up and blows him forward -- !
With... a faint tea-kettle ringing in his ears -- stepping on out, come and get me, sucker -- ...!]
I swear to God, man -- !
[A warm and cooling filter and diffusion.
As he nonetheless...!
...Starts to approach the guy...! Hands coming up. Palms forward. Spreading out - in an understated see? I got nothing! as he stops, stance planted. Head lifting and turning aside with a shakin'.
Off an initially squeaky creak as he sorta... "bumps" his weight aside and back on one leg - a... desire to go 'n scratch his calf with the side of a shoe killed by the instinctive realization that it would, in fact, ruin his balance.]
-- IIIII'm supposed to be in here!
[Little pulls and twitches in the muscles of his face to show a bit more teeth and sclera -- HEH HEH...! LOOK AT ME, EVERYTHING'S GOOD...!]
Whoever you got recruitin' set me up with a supply baaaag, and everything -- ...!
no subject
[Not without reason, anyway. Jack reserves his scorn and threats for people who give a reason to.]
[This guy...eh, he looks okay. Nothing special. Could use a couple of sandwiches, it looks like. Maybe a refreshing skin care regimen. All in all, Jack thinks he can work with this. At least on initial impression.
Guy could be a useless moron for all he knows.]
[A lot of them are.]
Welcome to Team Rocket, you're not some sad eyed bleeding heart, are ya? For some reason we keep getting those, and they keep bailing, and it's making my life really tough.
no subject
...Tshhhh, falling out in a puffing scoff - sinkin' into self satisfaction in a huff and a sound like a fully-vocalized swallow.]
Haw -- ! Huh -- ...
[Slippin' his hands into his pockets.
A little pop-up off his heels.
And a lift of his chin, at an angle.]
You're my boss, huh -- ...?
[Retaining an ending bob and flit -- ]
None a' you fellas got a file on me, or something?
[Heel taps as his voice dries to an absent sweep.]
'Nn here I figured y'all tracked me down 'cause I'm a wanted man -- ...!
[All the while, the Houndour has wandered to poke its head out the doorway. Cock it.
Below it darts the Totodile. Half slack-jawed.
Like a couple of eavesdropping six-year-olds.]
no subject
[Jack leans casually against the wall, puffing away at his cigarette and looking at the new recruit.]
The whole manifesto is built around stealing. So don't tell anybody you're a Rocket, that's supposed to be a secret.
[Jacks own dogs note the other pair, turning their heads almost in unison.]
Oh, also, the whole manifesto? Convoluted and stupid, so be prepared.
no subject
...a false impassiveness.
No real lack of interest. No real lack of effect. Something more... projectedly critical. Eyes half-lidded and unblinking. Teeth unevenly displayed as his head falls to a light tilt. A tighter squint as the... masked? Scarred? A quick set of twitchy flickers scanning the corner's of the guy's face to take in idle guesswork running in the background - guy looks on at him.
Don't be putting me under a microscope, here.
Hands slow-rub at the sides of his stomach through the lining of his pockets as his posture tips to a slump again.
Meanwhile, the Houndour starts to pad over. Head lowered. Cautious submission as it starts to sniff the air in tiny, silent twitches of a shiny black nose.
A rattle of claws over the floor as the Totodile hops over to halfway lean through the doorway. Eyes bright and big.
A muffled "muh -- ...!" sound like a high, vocalized swallow, from Lucas, as he pulls a grin back on.
Corners of his mouth drawing up.
Brow following. Eyes still half-lidded. Starting to - absent-mechanically shake his head.]
Well I ain't a Rocket as far as I know!
You guys not gonna make me sign a contract, or nothin' -- ?!
[With a pop of his eyes re-widened.]
Besiiides!
[A tiny, tiny wobble entering each of his movements - he's... not the terribly conscious type, bodily.
He's directing his energy forward, not rooted to the ground.]
All kinds of illegal stuff covers a hell of a lot more than just stealin', don't it -- ...?!
[Voice winding itself down from a balloon and compacting itself into something akin to a snort.
A float and rattle back up to the top of a rollercoaster peak that swoops down and cruises back along an up-and-down course.]
-- IIIII don't even know what part o' my repertoire's supposed to have caught yer eyes.
["Repertwar."]
no subject
[Jack shrugs. Look, this place is weird.]
But honestly, it's not a bad gig. Long as you don't piss off the big bosses. There's money in it, free room, some perks...
And who the hell knows? Just roll with it, kiddo, you're stuck here now and it's up to some goofy space llama how long you're here.
[As Jack keeps talking, Taylor Swift the Furfrou pads over to the curious Houndour, tail wagging and ears perked forward.]
no subject
A humid, hot-wind-withering "haaaeeeh -- ..." with an open mouth. Corners pulling back.
Settling into a loose "bite". All to bare teeth. Inner cheeks pulled away from them.
Holding an... unimpressed "question" on the guy. He's unsure himself exactly what it is. Is that what you call it, without knowing what "it" is. Along with cult shit? and what're any of you gonna do if I try and boot.
Strictly for its own sake, on the last one. Defiance's.
He's... subconsciously got no intent to do anything of the kind.
Money, board, and "perks" for doing his thing, aaaa-yeah, that don't sound so bad -- ...!
But, 'scuse you, it's up to him to choose, here. Decide if he likes what you're offering.
Between the two, the Houndour starts to lift its head a bit! Panting and stumpy tail wagging in kind. A couple of faster trots forward before stopping dead in front of the Furfrou. Leaning in a touch, head lowering again, angling to reveal little points of protruding teeth, starting to sniffsniffsniffsniff from a... reasonably tentative distance, despite the gusto behind the speed in the little puffing air noises...!
Meanwhile, Lucas's brows knit in and roof up. A lift of his head and a drop at a distinct slant.]
...Ya got protection -- ...?
[Said out of a deliberate... "challenge" of a sigh along a nasal curl with that of a wry, low held smile. Without missing another beat. Ending in a steady reopening of his eyes.
An ah? or a you dig?]
no subject
[Jack throws up his hands.]
We fight with these guys.
[Her jerks his head toward the Pokemon cautiously getting to know one another.]
It's kinda messed up, but it's how things work. The whole world revolves around Pokemon, it's...it's some technicolor nightmare bullshit, honestly. But hey, if I've learned anything here, it's that the human mind can adapt to anything!
Even this bullshit.