Niou Masaharu (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
trickyoutwice) wrote2013-04-14 12:08 am
trickyoutwice) wrote2013-04-14 12:08 am
1st trick; (video/action for goldenrod base)
[Yeah, losing sucked. Losing sucked ass, especially when it involved watching a guy's miraculously recovered captain getting beaten by some snot-nosed brat. And sure, Niou didn't have anything against snot-nosed brats in the general sense. The one on his tennis team was pretty cute as far as they went — extra gullible, which made his whole determined to the point of stupid schtick endearing instead of just a headache. Niou'd been called one himself plenty of times, and the whole brat thing just meant people weren't smart enough to stop him from doing what he wanted — and as far as he was concerned, that was their problem, not his. But this had been a snot-nosed brat from another team, so he had objections on principle.
Not to mention it sucked even more when he'd gotten snatched right out of the bus on the way home from losing the tournament and woken up to find himself literally in a video game — and cannon fodder for the lame bad guys, at that. He'd have thought it was some a dream or some elaborate joke, except who would bother (besides him), and he'd figured out pretty quickly that he got hungry if he didn't eat and that it hurt if he pinched himself, hoping he'd wake up, that he'd just nodded off against his doubles partner's shoulder.
So, not a dream. Literally stuck in Pokemon Land with no way home. At least being part of a secret evil organization came with a few perks. He didn't have to worry about the usual tropes for the scenario like finding food and somewhere safe to sleep or getting chased by a man-eating monster for comic effect. It wasn't that bad — except for how having to do all the mind-numbing busywork was making him so bored he was actually thinking of the practices where they'd had to run until they puked with something disturbingly like nostalgia. Niou'd kept his head down and played by the rules, hadn't planned to make any waves until he'd figured a little bit more out about Team Rocket. That is, he'd planned to stay out of trouble, but he honestly thought he might die in his sleep just to stop being so bored if he kept being the good, hard-working grunt for one more day.
These idiots thought he'd be happy about suddenly having some drill-camp schedule and regulations and a job? Especially when that job was to go around and do someone else's grunt work because they couldn't be bothered to get off their own asses and do it? It wasn't even like he'd signed up for this the way he had for tennis club. At least with tennis, running suicides until he thought he was actually gonna die and listening to his captain's bitching meant he could play in games. This place, it was all go mop the floors, go run some sketchy as hell game center, go find a toothbrush and scrub your boots and don't even THINK about having fun, and for what?
Nothing, as far as he could tell. Just get more orders and more snooze-worthy things to do and actually be expected to do it if you let them start thinking you were an obedient little errand boy. Yeah, well, he wasn't gonna sit around anymore and play by their stupid rules like some loser. It was their own fault if they couldn't even deal with a little bit of trouble coming from inside the ranks. Sure, Niou could play the thoroughly-cowed Rocket grunt like the best of them, when he wanted to, but that didn't mean he couldn't have a little fun on the side. All he had to do was make sure not to get caught.
For being the headquarters of an evil organization, the base was really way too easy to sneak around. If he ran into someone, he just had to pretend he actually had something important to do and walk a little quickly and no one gave him a second glance. It was pretty convenient that the members were supposed to be up to nefarious deeds, really. When he asked for a few supplies that would've gotten him suspicious stares back home (well, maybe that was just because back home they actually knew him), the poor sap he'd stopped for directions had been only too happy to show him where he could find any number of very useful things. Hell, even the fuzzy fox thing he'd ended up with seemed pretty into the idea of pulling one over on these clowns.
Team Rocket thought they were the biggest baddies around? Whatever, he'd start small. Time to go have a little fun. When he was done, they'd never know what hit them.]
—
[The video that shows up on PokeConnect seems off center — or at least the guy in it is, the view tilted like the PokeGear is propped up on something slightly off to his side. He's a lot more interested in whatever he's fiddling with offscreen than addressing the Gear, anyway, and his attention's focused on whatever it is that's out of frame. If anyone happens to be walking by where he's snuck off to in the Goldenrod Rocket HQ this late at night, they'd find him with a fairly impressive array of tools spread out around him as he does... something to one of the public water fountains. Sitting attentively beside him, his Zorua is watching what he's doing with eager interest and perked ears.]
Give me that screwdriver— no, not that one, the other one— yeah.
[It seems like he's addressing the Zorua since she wags her tail and noses the desired screwdriver over to him. Niou takes just enough time to flash her a thumbs up before he gets back to making his adjustments. Absently, he addresses his Gear as he works.]
So, all you people out there trapped with me in Pokemon Land... What's with this place? Are we really stuck here like some bad Saturday morning cartoon where we've gotta go questing for truth, justice, and the way home? Gotta say, I'm really not wanting any lesson of the day crammed down my throat for five seasons.
[He pauses, momentarily distracted by the water fountain. Apparently something's gone right, because now Niou's looking quite pleased with himself. When he speaks again, he turns his head to grin at the Gear, sardonic and a little mocking.]
Come on, not everyone's drunk the Kool-Aid, right? There's gotta be someone who doesn't think this whole getting dropped off at summer Pokemon camp is all totally normal.
Not to mention it sucked even more when he'd gotten snatched right out of the bus on the way home from losing the tournament and woken up to find himself literally in a video game — and cannon fodder for the lame bad guys, at that. He'd have thought it was some a dream or some elaborate joke, except who would bother (besides him), and he'd figured out pretty quickly that he got hungry if he didn't eat and that it hurt if he pinched himself, hoping he'd wake up, that he'd just nodded off against his doubles partner's shoulder.
So, not a dream. Literally stuck in Pokemon Land with no way home. At least being part of a secret evil organization came with a few perks. He didn't have to worry about the usual tropes for the scenario like finding food and somewhere safe to sleep or getting chased by a man-eating monster for comic effect. It wasn't that bad — except for how having to do all the mind-numbing busywork was making him so bored he was actually thinking of the practices where they'd had to run until they puked with something disturbingly like nostalgia. Niou'd kept his head down and played by the rules, hadn't planned to make any waves until he'd figured a little bit more out about Team Rocket. That is, he'd planned to stay out of trouble, but he honestly thought he might die in his sleep just to stop being so bored if he kept being the good, hard-working grunt for one more day.
These idiots thought he'd be happy about suddenly having some drill-camp schedule and regulations and a job? Especially when that job was to go around and do someone else's grunt work because they couldn't be bothered to get off their own asses and do it? It wasn't even like he'd signed up for this the way he had for tennis club. At least with tennis, running suicides until he thought he was actually gonna die and listening to his captain's bitching meant he could play in games. This place, it was all go mop the floors, go run some sketchy as hell game center, go find a toothbrush and scrub your boots and don't even THINK about having fun, and for what?
Nothing, as far as he could tell. Just get more orders and more snooze-worthy things to do and actually be expected to do it if you let them start thinking you were an obedient little errand boy. Yeah, well, he wasn't gonna sit around anymore and play by their stupid rules like some loser. It was their own fault if they couldn't even deal with a little bit of trouble coming from inside the ranks. Sure, Niou could play the thoroughly-cowed Rocket grunt like the best of them, when he wanted to, but that didn't mean he couldn't have a little fun on the side. All he had to do was make sure not to get caught.
For being the headquarters of an evil organization, the base was really way too easy to sneak around. If he ran into someone, he just had to pretend he actually had something important to do and walk a little quickly and no one gave him a second glance. It was pretty convenient that the members were supposed to be up to nefarious deeds, really. When he asked for a few supplies that would've gotten him suspicious stares back home (well, maybe that was just because back home they actually knew him), the poor sap he'd stopped for directions had been only too happy to show him where he could find any number of very useful things. Hell, even the fuzzy fox thing he'd ended up with seemed pretty into the idea of pulling one over on these clowns.
Team Rocket thought they were the biggest baddies around? Whatever, he'd start small. Time to go have a little fun. When he was done, they'd never know what hit them.]
[The video that shows up on PokeConnect seems off center — or at least the guy in it is, the view tilted like the PokeGear is propped up on something slightly off to his side. He's a lot more interested in whatever he's fiddling with offscreen than addressing the Gear, anyway, and his attention's focused on whatever it is that's out of frame. If anyone happens to be walking by where he's snuck off to in the Goldenrod Rocket HQ this late at night, they'd find him with a fairly impressive array of tools spread out around him as he does... something to one of the public water fountains. Sitting attentively beside him, his Zorua is watching what he's doing with eager interest and perked ears.]
Give me that screwdriver— no, not that one, the other one— yeah.
[It seems like he's addressing the Zorua since she wags her tail and noses the desired screwdriver over to him. Niou takes just enough time to flash her a thumbs up before he gets back to making his adjustments. Absently, he addresses his Gear as he works.]
So, all you people out there trapped with me in Pokemon Land... What's with this place? Are we really stuck here like some bad Saturday morning cartoon where we've gotta go questing for truth, justice, and the way home? Gotta say, I'm really not wanting any lesson of the day crammed down my throat for five seasons.
[He pauses, momentarily distracted by the water fountain. Apparently something's gone right, because now Niou's looking quite pleased with himself. When he speaks again, he turns his head to grin at the Gear, sardonic and a little mocking.]
Come on, not everyone's drunk the Kool-Aid, right? There's gotta be someone who doesn't think this whole getting dropped off at summer Pokemon camp is all totally normal.
no subject
See? Look. Instant screwdriver. Hey, make sure no one's coming while I get these hinges off, huh?
Hiding it as a watch, of course, had been his own variant. The other Ditto he'd known had preferred to try out various shapes — glasses, watches, wrist weight bands, hats — but he'd mostly managed to coerce his own into behaving up until now.]
Consider it your introduction into the wide range of versatility available to you.
[He motions slightly to the Eevee Brigade, to Thing, and then to the Ditto in turn.]
A variety of innate potential that settles once it finds its best fit; a trickster whose illusions conceal his true form; a partner that becomes its choice of target...subject to its own physical limitations.
[A faint smile crosses his face.]
There's a whole array of tricks just waiting to be played here, Niou-kun. Doesn't that suit you?
no subject
[Not that he needs much selling. Thing's little prank already had the wheels turning in his head, and the Ditto's usefulness is immediately, obviously apparent. He's over fussing about being stuck in video game land; his partner's here and they could use a vacation. It's high time he got to settling in and making trouble. Niou slants a knowing smile at Yagyuu as the pokemon chirps and oozes through his fingers, twines around his wrist and up his arm to perch gloopily on his shoulder.]
So, who taught you that neat trick? [He can kind of guess; something like this doesn't really fit Yagyuu's sense of aesthetics, but it fits right into his own. It's not hard to make the connection that whatever he-in-the-past had been up to, this was probably part of it.]
no subject
accursedDitto climbing all over Niou, and more importantly, at the sight of Niou looking so pleased about it. It's the feeling of things settling back into the way they ought to be.It's the feeling that prompts a rather Niou-ish smile to crawl fleetingly across Yagyuu's face, too.]
Someone incredibly troublesome.
[And now, at last, he'll risk the sentimentality.]
It's good that you're here, Niou-kun.
no subject
[But he smiles back at Yagyuu, something softer and without any of that mocking edge. Yagyuu may have missed him, may be glad to see him again, but he's nearly as relieved to have someone here he knows he can trust so absolutely. Things are looking up a great deal with his partner around.]
Gotta say, it's not so bad having you here, either.