Handsome Jack - Hero of Pandora (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
thedifferencebetween) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
silph_co2016-06-07 05:24 pm
thedifferencebetween) wrote in silph_co2016-06-07 05:24 pm
[Action]/[Goldenrod Base]
[....the flying fuck?]
[Nevermind some shitty college, as Jack had first likened the facility he's found himself in, this is clearly some low budget private army operation. Or a cult. He's not about to rule out cult. Matching uniforms, drab bunker, loudspeakers blasting orders and reminders... definitely one or the other.]
[None of this makes any kind of sense. Oh, he's got the gist of it, but that doesn't mean it makes any sense. How he got here, who brought him here, how they put him back together. None of the pieces make any picture all together.]
[He doesn't even know what back water, far flung, piece of shit planet he's on. He's never heard of it. Serious boonies, though, no one here seems to have any idea who he is. Which is just insane. He's god damned Handsome Jack, practically king of the freaking galaxy. Everybody knows who he is. Even blind deaf mutes in caves know who he is.]
[It's a hell of a state to be in. On the one hand, he isn't dying in some shithole. On the other....he's here. He's got nothing. Nothing of any use, anyway. The bag of crap at the foot of his bed wasn't his. He has his watch, his wallet, and the battered old photo that he's never taken out of his inside pocket until today. His gun is gone, his knives are gone. Hell, his empire may as well be gone for all the good it does him right now.]
[What's even happening back at Hyperion? It's not like there's anyone who could possibly run the company in his absence. Sure, they can try, but good luck getting into all of his files. Thinking about the security measures he has installed brings a dark chuckle. His office is going to smell like burning guts and hair by the time he gets back.
[And Hyperion itself...holy fuck, it's bound to be a shit show. Idiots running around without any idea where the money is, killing each other off in a panic and hoping they got to sit in the big chair and wear the big boots. At least that means he has time to gather his resources, use what he can from this place and get home.]
[Because clearly this place has something useful. He's not dead. He's fine. He'd taken a hell of a beating at the hands of those murdering bandits, but he'd never know it now. That is something that intrigues him. Hyperion regen tech is only so good.]
[Now he just has to find his way out of this sad little excuse for a base. What the fuck kind of name is 'Team Rocket', anyway? Nothing here has anything to do with space travel or rocket launchers. Talk about a bait and switch.]
[He stalks into the halls like he owns the place, paying attention to the announcements but taking no personal interest. He won't wear that tacky uniform that was laid out for him. He's in his suit, the old photo tucked back against his chest and feeling like a weight. He's not unaware of the implications of his situation, but he'll dwell on that later.]
[A Meowth is scampering along at his feet. Jack does his best to ignore it. At least the bag of garbage someone had the lack of brain-cells to animate had stayed in his room. Someone should have flushed that thing down the toilet the second it came out of it's test tube.]
[Nevermind some shitty college, as Jack had first likened the facility he's found himself in, this is clearly some low budget private army operation. Or a cult. He's not about to rule out cult. Matching uniforms, drab bunker, loudspeakers blasting orders and reminders... definitely one or the other.]
[None of this makes any kind of sense. Oh, he's got the gist of it, but that doesn't mean it makes any sense. How he got here, who brought him here, how they put him back together. None of the pieces make any picture all together.]
[He doesn't even know what back water, far flung, piece of shit planet he's on. He's never heard of it. Serious boonies, though, no one here seems to have any idea who he is. Which is just insane. He's god damned Handsome Jack, practically king of the freaking galaxy. Everybody knows who he is. Even blind deaf mutes in caves know who he is.]
[It's a hell of a state to be in. On the one hand, he isn't dying in some shithole. On the other....he's here. He's got nothing. Nothing of any use, anyway. The bag of crap at the foot of his bed wasn't his. He has his watch, his wallet, and the battered old photo that he's never taken out of his inside pocket until today. His gun is gone, his knives are gone. Hell, his empire may as well be gone for all the good it does him right now.]
[What's even happening back at Hyperion? It's not like there's anyone who could possibly run the company in his absence. Sure, they can try, but good luck getting into all of his files. Thinking about the security measures he has installed brings a dark chuckle. His office is going to smell like burning guts and hair by the time he gets back.
[And Hyperion itself...holy fuck, it's bound to be a shit show. Idiots running around without any idea where the money is, killing each other off in a panic and hoping they got to sit in the big chair and wear the big boots. At least that means he has time to gather his resources, use what he can from this place and get home.]
[Because clearly this place has something useful. He's not dead. He's fine. He'd taken a hell of a beating at the hands of those murdering bandits, but he'd never know it now. That is something that intrigues him. Hyperion regen tech is only so good.]
[Now he just has to find his way out of this sad little excuse for a base. What the fuck kind of name is 'Team Rocket', anyway? Nothing here has anything to do with space travel or rocket launchers. Talk about a bait and switch.]
[He stalks into the halls like he owns the place, paying attention to the announcements but taking no personal interest. He won't wear that tacky uniform that was laid out for him. He's in his suit, the old photo tucked back against his chest and feeling like a weight. He's not unaware of the implications of his situation, but he'll dwell on that later.]
[A Meowth is scampering along at his feet. Jack does his best to ignore it. At least the bag of garbage someone had the lack of brain-cells to animate had stayed in his room. Someone should have flushed that thing down the toilet the second it came out of it's test tube.]