Marril
07/18/2004, 03:32 PM
It's that time again folks. Time to get that root canal, er, read SS I mean. Yeah, that's it. More obscure pogeymanz references here, this time to the radio drama. And we see Giovanni again. And some more shounen-ai, at least a little bit of it.
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Giovanni by profession couldn’t show any outward emotion upon hearing—face to face, no less—from Executive Juliet that Tribo had been successfully hatched from its egg with no ill effects and was indeed living a mostly normal infancy. He wasn’t sure if Juliet’s comment on “clawing”, which she likened to human teething, was serious or in jest.
“You’ve done well, Juliet,” Giovanni said. “You remind me of my predecessor in that regard. Succeeding through massive failures, I mean.”
Juliet nodded “hai”, remaining standing at attention. The subject of the woman known to most Rockets simply as Madam Boss—the head of Team Rocket before Giovanni—was never touched on even by the Executives, let alone Giovanni himself.
“Your idea to destroy the known lab and move Tribo to a secure location has merit,” Giovanni continued, glancing at the computer monitor on his desk. “Elites Ryan, Simon, Vashou, and Buson have been assigned to assist in maintaining secrecy along with Kenneth’s primary security group.”
Juliet whistled in awe. “Sorry, sir,” she said, realizing her error.
Giovanni waved his hand in dismissal. “I understand your surprise. Tribo remains Team Rocket’s foremost priority project, akin to its predecessor Mewtwo. All Rocket resources must be ready to give their aid in any way they can.”
“I understand, sir. However, with all due respect, I only passed on that idea. It came from my combat specialist, Agent Melanie.”
“The thought never crossed your mind?”
“No, sir. Sorry, sir.”
Giovanni arced an eyebrow and hmmed, saying nothing further on the subject. The silence held on for an awkward amount of time.
“Is that all, sir?” Juliet asked at last.
“Not quite,” Giovanni replied as an afterthought. “Beta Site has been chosen. Development is underway.”
Giovanni opened a drawer in his desk and fingered through numerous folders. He took one out and slid it across his desk to Juliet. “Full details are enclosed in this document. Destroy it after memorizing it and speak of it to no one. Dismissed.”
Juliet picked up the document, saluted, and walked out of the office. She resisted the temptation to open the folder as she left the Rocket headquarters and was transported back to her normal base.
The sight of Elite Ryan as she headed inside was mildly unsettling. Juliet, oddly, thought no further about him. She got to her office and opened the folder.
It was immediately clear that Giovanni hadn’t checked the contents of the folder or, if he had, had left the yellow sheet of paper on top of several documents intact.
“Translation of the long-winded documents,” Juliet read the yellow paper to herself. “Beta Site’s off in the scenic Orange Islands on an otherwise abandoned island near where Lugia appeared a couple of years ago. It’s built like a bomb shelter, fully stocked, so supplies don’t need to be shipped in besides what we have already. Tribo’s gonna live there for the next few months until the little rascal can fight, then it’s going to work for Team Rocket, and you know the rest. No need to thank me. Signed, Yamato, Techno-Babble Translator of Team Rocket.”
Juliet chuckled. She flipped through the small stack of papers, which said in five pages what Yamato had said in one-half.
Memorizing the details, Juliet turned off the fire alarm and took a cigarette lighter from her desk and put it to its unintended purpose—she burned the folder and all papers inside. The smoke stunk horribly, and there were no windows to open to clear the air. She set the air ventilation on high, which made a loud noise, and left the room, coughing.
Yamato stood at Beta Site in its final construction phase. The site was invisible from the outside, built into the mountain on the island. He belatedly remembered his basic geology: the mountain was the island.
“No,” Yamato thought as he watched a construction-trained Machoke set up some heavy equipment, “Rei doesn’t need to know about this. Besides, the less I sneak out, the less evidence Kenneth’s going to have on me when the inevitable court martial hits. I’m a caught fish, I just need to live a little while longer.”
Marril stuck her hands into her pant pockets and harrumphed in indignation. “I admit you got at me a little, but that’s it.”
Alex laughed, thankful that there was nobody else in the train compartment. “Hey, it was fun.”
Marril growled. “I don’t need reminding of it.”
“We told you, you aren’t going to suffer that again,” Tschel promised.
“You humans are disgusting to plan that,” Marril ranted.
“We didn’t plan anything,” Alex said, staring at the ceiling, hands laced behind his head. “It just sort of came to Tschel as you walked into the room.”
“If Tschel’d locked the door,” Marril thought out loud, “then this whole thing would never have happened.”
Tschel scoffed. “Blame just me? Why not blame Alex as well?”
“Because I can stand Alex,” Marril stuck her tongue out at Tschel. “Even back when… when… ah, you know. Even then you were just a creep.”
“Looking like a cosplayer trumps being über pale,” Tschel retorted.
“Being so sick trumps having to see and hear that!” Marril shouted.
Alex muttered “aiyah” and took out Milotic’s pokéball. He opened it and the serpent popped out. Marril and Tschel were so engrossed in their argument that they didn’t notice.
“Figured I needed some calming, and you’re the best conversationalist for that I know,” Alex said to Milotic.
Milotic hummed a tone of agreement, but spasmed when Tschel shouted something. Having an enormous sweatdrop, it looked past Alex to where Marril and Tschel were still arguing over what had happened the previous night. Its tone shifted to one of exasperation.
“Yeah, I know,” Alex said. “Nice people, both of them, love one and like the other, just don’t get ‘em in the same room.”
Milotic hummed a tune.
Alex chuckled. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Go ahead then, if you want to.”
Milotic glowed with a soft, baby blue aura and slithered around Marril and Tschel. Both stopped arguing almost immediately.
“Wha… what was that?” Marril wondered. “Oh, no fair, you cheated, Tschel! Having Alex have Milotic make me not want to fight!”
“Me? I don’t need Milotic to stop fighting!” Tschel countered.
Alex and Milotic sweatdropped. “Wow, Milotic, a fight even you can’t dispel.”
Milotic hummed a tone that roughly translated to the Pokémon equivalent of a good “…” noise.
Alex signalled to Milotic. “Come on, next compartment has some odd people in it but at least we can let them sort it out the hard way.”
Milotic hummed inquisitively as it followed Alex.
“No, I’m sure they’ll be fine. Yeah, they fight a lot but deep down… really… really deep down… I know they like and respect each other.”
Milotic took one last glance at Marril and Tschel fighting before following Alex into the next compartment, after which Alex shut the door. Milotic hummed a short tone.
“Yeah, really deep down.”
“Sorry, ma’am… er, deeply sorry, sir,” a short woman pushing a snack cart said to Alex in a British accent, “I’m sorry, but Pokémon are to be in their pokéballs at all times.”
“Sorry about that,” Alex said, entirely ignoring the woman’s confusion about his gender. He recalled Milotic into its pokéball.
“Ah-hem,” the woman said, indicating that she would like Alex to move so she could get to the next compartment with her cart.
“Oh, yeah, I wouldn’t go in there,” Alex warned her. “Just came out of there, and going in wouldn’t be too bright.”
“Ye, aisle be doin’ me own business,” the woman’s accent made it sound like she said as she shoved Alex aside with surprising strength and pushed her cart past him.
Marril saw the door open before Tschel. “Yay snacks!” She shouted as she suddenly stood up, leaving a very confused Tschel to harbour a large sweatdrop.
“I’ll have one of these, one of these, and one of these,” Marril chose various delicious if extremely unhealthy snacks from the cart. “Oh, and three of these.”
“Hundred yen,” the woman pushing the cart said.
Marril gave the woman a hundred-yen bill and sat down beside Tschel, who was still wearing a stunned expression.
Marril stuck her tongue out at Tschel as she opened one of her snacks. “You thought I was really arguing?”
“What?” Tschel asked, stunned.
“Ah, I was just playing with you,” Marril laughed as she ate.
Alex walked into the room and looked at the two of them, equally as puzzled as Tschel was.
Tschel stood up and attempted to hide behind Alex. “Help me,” he said, “she scares me.”
“Thought you two were going to kill each other,” Alex said, bewildered. “What in the name of Goddish?”
Marril simply laughed.
“Marril,” Alex said in a firmer tone.
“Fine, fine,” Marril said. “After Milotic did its thing, I just acted like I was still fighting. Tschel believed me and lost his temper.”
“See, Alex, I told you we should have just let it go,” Tschel interjected.
Alex arced an eyebrow. “You were the one who thought it up.”
Tschel attempted to pout. “You went along.”
“Only because if I didn’t it would have backfired on you horribly.”
“And we were having such fun before Marril walked in, too.”
Marril twitched. “Okay, you two are just sick. Well, humans in general. Didn’t need to know a few of those things, but…”
Marril leapt between Alex and Tschel, an arm around each of them at shoulder level.
“I forgive ya!” Marril finished.
“She’s forgiving us for being human…” Tschel wondered.
“Tschel, let’s just do like Marril’s saying and drop it,” Alex said. “I will if you will.”
“Done,” Tschel said.
“… Oh, great,” Marril said after a moment of hanging off Alex and Tschel.
“What?” Alex and Tschel wondered at the same time.
“Well,” Marril muttered, “what sort of conversation are we going to have to top that?”
Both humans facefaulted.
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That's it for this week, folks. Next chapter goes up when it goes up. Until then, remember that your Milotic can't dispel all fights, just most of them. Don't worry about what happened offscreen earlier between Alex, Tschel, and Marril. Just formulate your own theories and stuff. Let's just say they annoyed and disgusted her.
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Giovanni by profession couldn’t show any outward emotion upon hearing—face to face, no less—from Executive Juliet that Tribo had been successfully hatched from its egg with no ill effects and was indeed living a mostly normal infancy. He wasn’t sure if Juliet’s comment on “clawing”, which she likened to human teething, was serious or in jest.
“You’ve done well, Juliet,” Giovanni said. “You remind me of my predecessor in that regard. Succeeding through massive failures, I mean.”
Juliet nodded “hai”, remaining standing at attention. The subject of the woman known to most Rockets simply as Madam Boss—the head of Team Rocket before Giovanni—was never touched on even by the Executives, let alone Giovanni himself.
“Your idea to destroy the known lab and move Tribo to a secure location has merit,” Giovanni continued, glancing at the computer monitor on his desk. “Elites Ryan, Simon, Vashou, and Buson have been assigned to assist in maintaining secrecy along with Kenneth’s primary security group.”
Juliet whistled in awe. “Sorry, sir,” she said, realizing her error.
Giovanni waved his hand in dismissal. “I understand your surprise. Tribo remains Team Rocket’s foremost priority project, akin to its predecessor Mewtwo. All Rocket resources must be ready to give their aid in any way they can.”
“I understand, sir. However, with all due respect, I only passed on that idea. It came from my combat specialist, Agent Melanie.”
“The thought never crossed your mind?”
“No, sir. Sorry, sir.”
Giovanni arced an eyebrow and hmmed, saying nothing further on the subject. The silence held on for an awkward amount of time.
“Is that all, sir?” Juliet asked at last.
“Not quite,” Giovanni replied as an afterthought. “Beta Site has been chosen. Development is underway.”
Giovanni opened a drawer in his desk and fingered through numerous folders. He took one out and slid it across his desk to Juliet. “Full details are enclosed in this document. Destroy it after memorizing it and speak of it to no one. Dismissed.”
Juliet picked up the document, saluted, and walked out of the office. She resisted the temptation to open the folder as she left the Rocket headquarters and was transported back to her normal base.
The sight of Elite Ryan as she headed inside was mildly unsettling. Juliet, oddly, thought no further about him. She got to her office and opened the folder.
It was immediately clear that Giovanni hadn’t checked the contents of the folder or, if he had, had left the yellow sheet of paper on top of several documents intact.
“Translation of the long-winded documents,” Juliet read the yellow paper to herself. “Beta Site’s off in the scenic Orange Islands on an otherwise abandoned island near where Lugia appeared a couple of years ago. It’s built like a bomb shelter, fully stocked, so supplies don’t need to be shipped in besides what we have already. Tribo’s gonna live there for the next few months until the little rascal can fight, then it’s going to work for Team Rocket, and you know the rest. No need to thank me. Signed, Yamato, Techno-Babble Translator of Team Rocket.”
Juliet chuckled. She flipped through the small stack of papers, which said in five pages what Yamato had said in one-half.
Memorizing the details, Juliet turned off the fire alarm and took a cigarette lighter from her desk and put it to its unintended purpose—she burned the folder and all papers inside. The smoke stunk horribly, and there were no windows to open to clear the air. She set the air ventilation on high, which made a loud noise, and left the room, coughing.
Yamato stood at Beta Site in its final construction phase. The site was invisible from the outside, built into the mountain on the island. He belatedly remembered his basic geology: the mountain was the island.
“No,” Yamato thought as he watched a construction-trained Machoke set up some heavy equipment, “Rei doesn’t need to know about this. Besides, the less I sneak out, the less evidence Kenneth’s going to have on me when the inevitable court martial hits. I’m a caught fish, I just need to live a little while longer.”
Marril stuck her hands into her pant pockets and harrumphed in indignation. “I admit you got at me a little, but that’s it.”
Alex laughed, thankful that there was nobody else in the train compartment. “Hey, it was fun.”
Marril growled. “I don’t need reminding of it.”
“We told you, you aren’t going to suffer that again,” Tschel promised.
“You humans are disgusting to plan that,” Marril ranted.
“We didn’t plan anything,” Alex said, staring at the ceiling, hands laced behind his head. “It just sort of came to Tschel as you walked into the room.”
“If Tschel’d locked the door,” Marril thought out loud, “then this whole thing would never have happened.”
Tschel scoffed. “Blame just me? Why not blame Alex as well?”
“Because I can stand Alex,” Marril stuck her tongue out at Tschel. “Even back when… when… ah, you know. Even then you were just a creep.”
“Looking like a cosplayer trumps being über pale,” Tschel retorted.
“Being so sick trumps having to see and hear that!” Marril shouted.
Alex muttered “aiyah” and took out Milotic’s pokéball. He opened it and the serpent popped out. Marril and Tschel were so engrossed in their argument that they didn’t notice.
“Figured I needed some calming, and you’re the best conversationalist for that I know,” Alex said to Milotic.
Milotic hummed a tone of agreement, but spasmed when Tschel shouted something. Having an enormous sweatdrop, it looked past Alex to where Marril and Tschel were still arguing over what had happened the previous night. Its tone shifted to one of exasperation.
“Yeah, I know,” Alex said. “Nice people, both of them, love one and like the other, just don’t get ‘em in the same room.”
Milotic hummed a tune.
Alex chuckled. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Go ahead then, if you want to.”
Milotic glowed with a soft, baby blue aura and slithered around Marril and Tschel. Both stopped arguing almost immediately.
“Wha… what was that?” Marril wondered. “Oh, no fair, you cheated, Tschel! Having Alex have Milotic make me not want to fight!”
“Me? I don’t need Milotic to stop fighting!” Tschel countered.
Alex and Milotic sweatdropped. “Wow, Milotic, a fight even you can’t dispel.”
Milotic hummed a tone that roughly translated to the Pokémon equivalent of a good “…” noise.
Alex signalled to Milotic. “Come on, next compartment has some odd people in it but at least we can let them sort it out the hard way.”
Milotic hummed inquisitively as it followed Alex.
“No, I’m sure they’ll be fine. Yeah, they fight a lot but deep down… really… really deep down… I know they like and respect each other.”
Milotic took one last glance at Marril and Tschel fighting before following Alex into the next compartment, after which Alex shut the door. Milotic hummed a short tone.
“Yeah, really deep down.”
“Sorry, ma’am… er, deeply sorry, sir,” a short woman pushing a snack cart said to Alex in a British accent, “I’m sorry, but Pokémon are to be in their pokéballs at all times.”
“Sorry about that,” Alex said, entirely ignoring the woman’s confusion about his gender. He recalled Milotic into its pokéball.
“Ah-hem,” the woman said, indicating that she would like Alex to move so she could get to the next compartment with her cart.
“Oh, yeah, I wouldn’t go in there,” Alex warned her. “Just came out of there, and going in wouldn’t be too bright.”
“Ye, aisle be doin’ me own business,” the woman’s accent made it sound like she said as she shoved Alex aside with surprising strength and pushed her cart past him.
Marril saw the door open before Tschel. “Yay snacks!” She shouted as she suddenly stood up, leaving a very confused Tschel to harbour a large sweatdrop.
“I’ll have one of these, one of these, and one of these,” Marril chose various delicious if extremely unhealthy snacks from the cart. “Oh, and three of these.”
“Hundred yen,” the woman pushing the cart said.
Marril gave the woman a hundred-yen bill and sat down beside Tschel, who was still wearing a stunned expression.
Marril stuck her tongue out at Tschel as she opened one of her snacks. “You thought I was really arguing?”
“What?” Tschel asked, stunned.
“Ah, I was just playing with you,” Marril laughed as she ate.
Alex walked into the room and looked at the two of them, equally as puzzled as Tschel was.
Tschel stood up and attempted to hide behind Alex. “Help me,” he said, “she scares me.”
“Thought you two were going to kill each other,” Alex said, bewildered. “What in the name of Goddish?”
Marril simply laughed.
“Marril,” Alex said in a firmer tone.
“Fine, fine,” Marril said. “After Milotic did its thing, I just acted like I was still fighting. Tschel believed me and lost his temper.”
“See, Alex, I told you we should have just let it go,” Tschel interjected.
Alex arced an eyebrow. “You were the one who thought it up.”
Tschel attempted to pout. “You went along.”
“Only because if I didn’t it would have backfired on you horribly.”
“And we were having such fun before Marril walked in, too.”
Marril twitched. “Okay, you two are just sick. Well, humans in general. Didn’t need to know a few of those things, but…”
Marril leapt between Alex and Tschel, an arm around each of them at shoulder level.
“I forgive ya!” Marril finished.
“She’s forgiving us for being human…” Tschel wondered.
“Tschel, let’s just do like Marril’s saying and drop it,” Alex said. “I will if you will.”
“Done,” Tschel said.
“… Oh, great,” Marril said after a moment of hanging off Alex and Tschel.
“What?” Alex and Tschel wondered at the same time.
“Well,” Marril muttered, “what sort of conversation are we going to have to top that?”
Both humans facefaulted.
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That's it for this week, folks. Next chapter goes up when it goes up. Until then, remember that your Milotic can't dispel all fights, just most of them. Don't worry about what happened offscreen earlier between Alex, Tschel, and Marril. Just formulate your own theories and stuff. Let's just say they annoyed and disgusted her.