open up now (don't you think it's time?)

[fingersandteeth]

Who: Steven Durante + the other Rockets
Where: Goldenrod Rocket Base in the starter + Tyler's thread, Handsome Jack's place otherwise
When: Late February, immediately after the fossil heist + 10
Summary: Someone is having a quiet crisis following their very first heist! Also, fall-out from some personal revelations + meeting a new Rocket.
Rating: PG-13, with some threads going up to R in terms of language and conversational subjects. Anything too wicked goes to an inbox.

Steven Durante's quieter than usual on their way back from Dirk's Fossil Heist. He keeps looking at his hands. And when it comes to turning in the bag of fossils and collecting their rewards, he doesn't even bother asking if he, Connie, and the other Steve will get promotions from this.

Sure, when the time has come for them to claim their weird abomination fossils, he immediately jumps to claiming one the Pokedex claims is called a 'Dracozolt'--but otherwise, he seems unusually subdued. Something is definitely on his mind and has been since... well, even before Steve P and Connie caught up with him and Dirk.

Dirk might be able to hazard a guess as to what's bothering him. Anyone else probably has to ask.

Comments

[fingersandteeth]

The man who came through the door frowns and retrieves a small notebook from his coat pocket, along with a pen. He writes something down and turns it to face Tyler.

SORRY, it reads. I DON'T KNOW VERY MUCH SIGN LANGUAGE.

[asmywitness]

...well, that's still progress. Tyler's tension doesn't visibly ease, when his eyes flick down and scan the writing, but he does reach out and rather politely take the pen and paper from Steven - who will be able to see how both of Tyler's hands seem quite heavily stained with ink.

First, though, he bends down, picks up his Houndour and puts it on the bed. And when it tries to stand again, he pushes down on its butt and holds one hand up in a 'wait' sign. And then flips to a new page in the notebook and starts writing.

His handwriting is extremely neat, and quite small to make the most of the small space. I'm Tyler, I'm 24, I'm deaf and I can't lip-read. I just woke up here and I have no idea what's happening. I don't know what the bird and dog are, but I assume they're Pokemon since I DO know what Team Rocket is.

[fingersandteeth]

He takes the notebook back from Tyler, then flips to yet another page and writes, in similarly small letters: I'm Steven. I'm 37. No one knows why people like us from other worlds end up here. I didn't even know about Pokemon or Team Rocket when I woke up here. I think the dog's a Houndour. Not sure about the bird. Check your Pokegear.

[asmywitness]

Tyler frowns at the last word, then looks back at his desk, and picks up the chunky phone device sitting there. He's glad he had one of the Pokemon games to play as a kid, so he knows that he's supposed to open up the Pokedex (apparently it's an app now) and point it at the Houndour.

He doesn't even let it finish talking - for obvious reasons, really - he just skims the text enough to get an idea of what he's looking at, before he points it at his bird.

"Natu, the tiny bird Pokemon. Because its wings aren't fully gro--" Tyler snaps it shut before it can finish. Cool, he has a psychic bird and an evil fire dog.

[fingersandteeth]

Steven takes the time to write him another note:

That used to be my bed, but I'm living out of the dorms now. I came to grab some stuff I left behind. I hope you don't mind if I do that? Just some clothes and some books. And I can answer questions about the Team for you. I'm not the highest ranking non-native Rocket, but I am his second, more or less.

[asmywitness]

He looks down at the note, and gives a thumbs up, taking the notepad back as he steps back a little and moves to sit on the bed. And he writes up another page as Steven gathers his shit, flicking back and forth through their dialogue so far - and noting how he doesn't take a large sky-blue dufflebag that he can see at the foot of the bed.

How many people are there from other worlds? And how can we know that for sure? Why the fuck (this is underlined several times) are we being kidnapped and what for?

There's a significant delay, as Tyler seems to stare into space for a few moments, then he adds at the bottom, Is the guy on the poster important or is he just as big a douchebag as he looks?

[fingersandteeth]

Steven laughs out loud when he sees the note. Even if Tyler can't hear it, it's pretty obvious what it is.

There might be a hundred transplants currently, but Team Rocket doesn't get most of them. They end up in New Bark for some reason instead. And nobody knows why we're being kidnapped, unfortunately. Team Rocket currently has eight transplants. You, me, Connie, Carly, Steve P, Dirk, Jack, and Lydia, who should just be finishing Training.

He glances up, smiles, and flips to another page to add,

Poster guy is Handsome Jack. He's an Alpha, one step below Admin, and that highest ranking non-native I mentioned. So yes, he is important and admittedly, he can be obnoxious, but despite the overwhelming ego, he does his best for the rest of us transplants. You'll want to hit him up if you need anything.

Then he hands it back to Tyler.

[asmywitness]

Tyler is intimately familiar with the body language of laughter, so seeing Steven laugh does help him relax a bit. Just a smidge. His frown goes from 'murderous' to 'discontent'.

He can't say that he trusts someone with a name like Handsome Jack. If the man chose it himself, then he's probably as much of a douchebag as he looks. Though apparently he might have to.

He looks over at his desk - the Natu on his shoulder continues to watch Steven without blinking - and picks up the 'welcome' note, circles the passage about training, scribbles a comment on the bottom and hands it to Steven.

I doubt this is going to be accessibility-friendly.

[fingersandteeth]

Steven writes on the notepad in reply:

Possibly not. The local Rockets are fairly incompetent, so I wouldn't be surprised if they haven't considered accessibility. However, with you here and likely to join our crew, I consider it one of my priorities now. I am going to talk to Jack about you and see what we can do for that. Possibly we can train some of the Meowths to be interpreters, as God knows he has them doing everything else around the house. Honestly, I think it would be a good idea if the whole crew learned sign language. And in the mean time, I'll ask the others to do as much over text as possible to include you.

[asmywitness]

Tyler takes the notepad back, and looks at his two Pokemon thoughtfully. He knows hearing dogs are a thing, and maybe once the Houndour - that he should really name, as it tries to climb into his lap for pats, which he does give - is a bit older and wiser he might try that. But he'll stick with regular training for it for just now; he doesn't know how to train hearing dogs, anyway.

One hand comes to his chin automatically, in a simple gesture aimed at Steven. Then he writes two words on the paper, and holds it up.

Thank you.

Then he takes it back and writes some more. I'd really appreciate that.

But I have a question: if the Rockets are so incompetent, what's stopping me from just walking out of here with my Pokemon and not coming back? He's not even considering the idea of leaving this actual world-location-whatever; if it can make him human again, he doubts it'll let him leave as easily as he did Arcadia. Hah.

[fingersandteeth]

Steven does the gesture in turn.

It's no problem.

And while they are bad at a lot of things, they are somehow really good at tracking their members down.

He'll take the notepad back right away so he can write a few more pages:

The good thing is? Once the mandatory week of training is over, you don't have to stay here. You can if you want, because free room and board, but you don't have to. All you have to do is turn in your biweekly quote (one pokemon of level 15 or higher) and the rest of your time is your own. They'll want it to be stolen, but honestly? They don't check. A lot of us just catch something instead. Less stress.

And in return, you get to draw a weekly stipend and you're allowed to sleep and eat for free at any Rocket facility. There's ones at Saffron, Celadon, Lavender, and Mahogany, as well as the one here in Goldenrod. You can also bill any other travel expenses to the team as long as you're on a mission or claim you are. If you're creative, you can get a lot on the Team's dime. And if you participate in heists, you can get some pretty hefty bonuses as well. And sometimes prizes too. 'Shinies.' Reanimated fossils. Etc etc.

[asmywitness]

Free room and board is very tempting, especially when he doesn't exactly have any other options lined up at the moment. So, he supposes, right now he doesn't really have anything else going for him. He doesn't necessarily want to commit crimes, and he's glad they apparently don't care enough that he can mostly do without, but if that's apparently the only way to get shit done around here, well.

He's done worse.

He takes the notepad back and starts a new page, filled with gaps for Steven to write in.

Q&A
What are 'shinies'?:
Heists as in Oceans 11 stealing bullshit?:
Seriously, reanimated fossils?:
Anything else pertinent to the general world here?:

[fingersandteeth]

Steven takes a moment to study the list, then begins to fill in the gaps.

What are 'shinies'?:

Pokemon that are a different color than breed standard, such as a purple Wailmer instead of blue. No, I don't know why they call them that.

Heists as in Oceans 11 stealing bullshit?:

Yeah! The rest of us Transplants (minus Lydia who was still in Training Hell) actually did one at the Pewter Museum a few days ago. We got a hefty bonus and some... I guess you could call them reanimated fossils. I guess.

Seriously, reanimated fossils?:

This is actually a thing here. Pewter scientists can bring prehistoric pokemon to life in the present day that way. One of them (C. Liss: muddy, terrible) does this by combining partial fossils and new and terrifying ways. None of her Frankensteined creatures ever really existed in prehistoric times outside of her twisted imagination.

Anything else pertinent to the general world here?:

There's barely any cars. Ten-year-olds are considered old enough to go on training journeys on their own. Everything revolves around Pokemon. Everything.

If you see a muddy woman in a lab coat and mismatched shoes, don't let her foist any pokeballs on you.

[asmywitness]

He's... oddly disappointed by the news about cars. He enjoyed driving.

Well, if we ever find a need for cars here, I can take the wheel, I've been driving for like seven or eight years. Also: the 'everything revolves around Pokemon' part isn't a huge surprise, you know what people are like with CATS, right?

Tyler almost hands the notepad back then, but he hesitates, and quickly adds a new question.

How do you know if someone's from another world?

[fingersandteeth]

Just off the street it can be kind of hard. But there's two channels on the messenger app on your pokegear that are transplant only. One of them is general transplants, the other is Rocket only. Don't get them mixed up.

There's a fair amount of video posts? I know those wouldn't be as useful to you as text ones, but if you've got a good memory, you can get faces for other transplants that way.

[asmywitness]

I don't forget. Eidetic memory.

He holds that up with a little bit of a smug look, before he turns it around again and keeps writing.

It'll still be useful for knowing who I'm supposed to actually care about. Which is nice.

[fingersandteeth]

Steven grins.

I bet that's useful.

[asmywitness]

When he reads the short note, it gets an exaggerated 'eh' kind of shrug.

Pros and cons. Everyone's got things they'd rather forget.

[fingersandteeth]

Steven takes a moment before he writes, Yeah. Point taken.

[asmywitness]

He's quiet for a few moments, tapping the pen in idle movement. His bird - he really should name it at some point - finally turns its rather oppressive gaze from Tyler to Steven.

Finally, he writes one question, and hands the pad over.

What's your world like?

[fingersandteeth]

Steven frowns, staring down at the paper, and then back up at the wall. Finally he writes:

I don't know where to start describing it. It's an Earth, not some other planet. I'm from the year 2015. I come from San Diego, California, in the United States. My parents live up north in Santa Carla. Cars are commonplace. No one can Jurassic Park up fossils. We have Ocean's 11, but then there's also various in-world equivalents of things from my world here, like the Smashing Pumpkaboos, so I don't know if that makes my world more or less like yours just based on pop culture.

He pauses again, starts a new page, frowning thoughtfully as he write:

Hm. What else? Various forms of magic users/supernatural creatures/the undead exist, but most people don't know about them. I didn't until I was in my 30s, despite one of the local comic book shops in the town my parents moved to selling indie comics about how vampires are totally real and here's how to kill them. Also, evidently my old favorite wrestling league (the EWW) was stuffed full of supernatural guys. I'm not into wrestling as much as I used to be for reasons, but knowing that explains a lot.

[asmywitness]

...well that second page is very interesting.

It's the same for me, actually, for a lot of that - except I'm from the year 2018. I'm not so familiar with vampires being real in my world, but other things were. I'm more familiar with

His hand hovers over the page for a moment, and it almost seems to tremble before he finally decides on the right word.

stories about fair folk being real. You know those Irish style ones where they're absolute merciless bastards? That kind of thing. I've done some pretty in-depth research.

First hand experience counts, right?

[fingersandteeth]

Steven gets very, very stiff. He looks up at Tyler, then back down at the paper, and very gingerly he pulls the notepad to him.

They are. In mine. And they are bastards.

The word itself is underlined furiously three or four times.

[asmywitness]

He sees that reaction all too clearly. He was watching for it, staring at Steven with the same intensity his bird is.

He was hoping for it, really.

He takes it back, and flips to a new page; the lines from Steven's fury are still visible. And he writes with great care - his writing has been perfectly neat thus far but this is going an extra mile.

Q&A
What kind of Changeling are you:

[fingersandteeth]

He's shaking a little now. Fuck. He feels-- more profoundly and visibly seen since the night after the heist.

Darkling. Leechfinger kith.

But it's not just that he feels seen. It's standing in the mirror with Jack, learning the right placement for his hands. It's Tio Carlos, picking him up so that he can see onto the table in the pathology laboratory. It's Charley, tiny nose pressed against the diagram in his uncle's textbook, asking him questions in her piping four-year-old's voice.

It's that he doesn't feel alone.

You?