Post by Brebread on Nov 7, 2009 15:03:20 GMT -5
FINISHED HOLY MEW FINALLY
What do your parents call you?
What do your friends call you?
What gender are you?
What is your profession?
How old are you?
Do you think you need to go on a diet?
What is your emotional disposition?
What, in your opinion, are some groovy things?
And how about things that aren't groovy?
What are you afraid of?
What are your hobbies?
Why do you do what you do?
What's your mandatory angst?
Is there any miscellaneous information you want us to know?
Who are you a proxy for?
[The GASTLY reappears.] Great, you've gone ahead and bored him. Arceus only knows how many hours of sleep this man has missed lately. Well, there's no further use for you... Stop the recording!
The new comes in, and for HIM the world stops.
...and occasionally gives a bagel.
Well, it shall have to do… for now, at least.
[He sits down in the chair, folds his hands on the DESK, straightens his spine to its fullest height, and stares at the camera with a small frown and an almost spiteful look in his eyes.] Feel free to start. I don’t have all day to answer your simple questionnaire; as a matter of fact, I have an extremely important chore that must be attended to. Please be aware of that.
[The MACHINE in front of him does not respond except for presenting a pair of earphones, which he observes carefully.] Has anyone else worn these? [The MACHINE beeps aggressively. With a small frown APOLLO places the earbuds in his ears.]
What do your parents call you?
[His expression doesn’t seem to change, but someone trained to see the minute changes in people’s faces with different emotions would notice that he was surprised - either from the absurdity of the question or that it was coming out of the earplugs. He waits a beat before speaking, using this time to narrow his already-slanted eyes further.] My mother and father would have no reason to call me anything different than what anyone out of the organization would; they would call me ‘Apollo’.
What do your friends call you?
[Another thought seems to cross APOLLO’s mind, and he gives a small, satisfied little grin.] Subordinates within the Team rightfully refer to me as ‘Boss’ or ‘Boss Apollo’. It’s advisable that you do too. [APOLLO reaches out one hand and rips off a piece of paper that had spewed from the MACHINE and reads it. His smile disintegrates quickly.] You want to know why? [He glances up at the MACHINE with something more than spite.]
Do not ask any more questions. You are testing at my patience already, and we haven’t even gotten anywhere interesting. A half-finished report is of no use, am I correct?
What gender are you?
[APOLLO raises one eyebrow.] Excuse me? Do you somehow fail to see, from all of the clues I have already given you, that I am a male? I must say, you are extremely fortunate that I've remained thus far. Your ignorance is truly remarkable.
What is your profession?
I am the leader of Team Rocket. [APOLLO seems to wait for the impact of his seven words to settle in before continuing.] Oh, I know what all of you watching this film must be thinking; ‘Apollo is lying! The leader of Team Rocket had been arrested years ago!’ I can assure you, gentlemen and ladies. I can assure you with all of my being that the Team never dies. [Although at first this seems rather silly to be saying it with such force, APOLLO’s expression is dead serious.] No matter what leaders it may go through, what lengthy, agonizing periods of silence it faces, no matter what prepubescent Trainers will stand in its way… [APOLLO leans forward in his chair.] It will not die. And until I do, I will see to that.
How old are you?
[APOLLO straightens back up, in an attempt to regain his composure after the small catastrophe that occurred in the previous question.] This is the first question in what seems like quite a long while that couldn’t have been answered merely by looking at me. So, let me ask you a question, good observers of this recorded video: how would you react if I refused to tell you?
[The MACHINE gave a warning beep and aimed a thin red laser beam directly at APOLLO’s forehead.]
...I am thirty years old.
Do you think you need to go on a diet?
[APOLLO looks disgusted.] No. No, I do not. [The man stands up to leave, still facing the camera with something that is definitely more than petty spite.]{APOLLO is not a remarkably tall person. He is not short, either, though – the man is only about five feet, three inches. Nor is he particularly heavy; as a matter of fact, the old saying ‘the camera adds ten pounds’ was in opposite effect here. Though he truly doesn’t seem that bad with just a glance, it gradually becomes clear after looking at him for a period of time that the man appears unhealthily thin. The same rule applies for his skin tone; Apollo is darn near ghostly. No amount of clean outfitting or polite mannerisms can conceal for long the fact that Apollo is truly not concerned about his physical well-being past general appearances.
He has teal-colored hair that has been cut close to his head, and his eyebrows have very obviously been shortened; they look to be about half of the normal length. He has rather small eyes the same color of his hair that are slanted downwards as they get closer to the nose. By the looks of his mouth and body movements so far, whatever emotions are swirling around in his head are often converted, in the trip from brain to face, to nothing more than a small smile or frown, occasionally with movements of his eyebrows as well.
His outfit itself is very streamlined, and has an air about it that suggests Apollo is not one to be messed with; except for the red R on his black chest pocket, the entire thing is totally in grayscale. On the lower layer of his two shirts is a black one whose sleeves and neck are not seen but is tucked into his pants. The neck of the outer shirt stops just above his collarbone, and has a large black upside-down triangle pattern whose sides begin a little past Apollo’s neck and meet to form a point a third of the way down. To the left of this point is his chest-pocket, which holds Team Rocket’s logo – the only indication he is with the Team. At the end of the long sleeves are two more black stripes. It stops shorter than the black one does on the bottom, and has a triangular shape cut out on the center of the bottom rim. Going down past the charcoal gray belt with silver buckle, the rest of his outfit is entirely white. He has on what appear to be dress pants with no pockets and flat white shoes.}
I suggest you go on to the next question before I lose my temper with this insolence.
What is your emotional disposition?
[APOLLO raises one eyebrow.] You ask my emotional disposition? That implies a description of personality, does it not? Unfortunately, you seem to ask your interrogates this question, dear machine. I’m willing to say that, more often than not, that generates a biased answer… So I won’t tell you.
Apollo, as you can probably see by now, is a workaholic to the point of mere unhealthiness.
[APOLLO’s eyes shift around angrily, and creases of anger begin to appear on his face.] Who are you, to hide somewhere and spout such things? I demand to know. [He does, indeed, seem to be losing his temper with this insolence.]
[The VOICE continued, not being scared by – or even responding to – APOLLO’s demands.] As our dear accomplice has said himself, it’s all a matter of bias. The only way we can get a decent grip of Apollo’s personality and explain it is if someone who isn’t Apollo goes ahead and examines him… and guess what I’ve been doing this entire time? …Sit down, Grace Windsor We- uh, I mean, Apollo. [The man had apparently intended to get up to find the source of the VOICE, but it had caught him.] Interestingly enough, he is also very concerned about his outward appearance – whether that comes from his pride of his position or his ego the size of Almia is unknown, since he hasn’t been kind enough to tell us lately.
[APOLLO’s frown deepens considerably.] I demand to know who is speaking!
[The VOICE snickers.] Hey, now, no need to be rude… I’m just stating the facts.
{Above APOLLO’s head there flickers a floating purple image. The (highly skilled and very capable) administrators at Revival, Inc. are unsure what this could be – perhaps a malfunction from the older model, the Wingless 1.5, brought over by accident. However, the purple-black blot seemed to have eyes and a gaping, sharp-toothed mouth…}
What, in your opinion, are some groovy things?
+ My work and position. You must be squirming uncomfortably in your seats by now. Unless you happen to be a spy for the Team sent into the other observers’ company without my consent, I haven’t a doubt in my mind that I must come across as just slightly demented for supporting Team Rocket, much less accepting a temporary position as the new head; this is not the case.
+ Bagels. You wished for me to be honest – I’m being honest. [APOLLO shrugs daintily.] I like bagels.
+ Sleep. [APOLLO blinks and stands stiff as a board in his chair, trying and failing to hide the startled blush on his face.] …Oh dear, did I truly say that? Excuse me.
And how about things that aren't groovy?
- Inappropriate treatment or attitude. [APOLLO’s usual tight line of a mouth frowns ever so slightly.] Speaking back to your superiors, or even your peers, is extremely disrespectful and often doesn’t get you anywhere. It’s for this reason that I refuse to tolerate it.
- …People who embody the above description. [APOLLO seemed like he was about to say another word, one that started with an L instead of a P. How strange.] This should go without saying, but some people still insist upon leading their own way when under the command of a superior.
- Redundancy. Call it a pet peeve if you will, but doing pointless things over and over again is unproductive and a total waste of resources. [APOLLO shakes his head.]
What are you afraid of?
And you wish me to answer all questions honestly?
[The MACHINE beeps an affirmative.]
Very well, then. My greatest, and only, fear is of someone forcing me from my position in an unjust manner. Naturally, if I am elected out or… must leave the Earth, then there is truly nothing I can do about it. But any underhandedness worse than what one would expect of a member of Team Rocket to his or her superior is simply unacceptable – but, unfortunately, very real.
What are your hobbies?
[APOLLO blinks.] Ex… excuse me? Are you asking what I do in my spare time?
[The MACHINE blinks a green color. APOLLO ducks his head for a second, clears his throat, and assumes a very haughty and straight-backed position.] I do not often find myself with any spare time, I’m afraid. There haven’t been many opportunities as of late to explore hobbies of any sort – so, I suppose the only suitable answer to this question is that I do work in every one of my waking hours. [APOLLO’s spine seems to sag slightly before he catches himself and returns to alertness. The MACHINE seems to catch this and spits out another piece of paper.]
‘Elbaorate’… [APOLLO stares at the MACHINE intently.] This is an extremely advanced piece of technology, gentlemen and ladies who may be watching this recording. Though… [APOLLO gives a tiny sigh.] I suppose I do have a tendency to let my work spill into the hours of the day or night dedicated to… other purposes.
Why do you do what you do?
I joined Team Rocket, slowly rose in ranks, crawled up that tragic ladder, past the colorful cast of characters who eventually situated themselves in lower rungs. The same thing happened to my comrades – Athena, Lanbda, and… [APOLLO says the last name quickly, as if he is ashamed to admit that this one is part of his squad.] …Lance.
Excuse the interruption; I’m afraid I just had a temporary brain blank. Things do happen, you’ll understand. In any case, I rose among the ranks of Team Rocket, and when the time came for The Old Boss to resign I was presented the position of interim leader. However, no members have attempted to find a new leader, and… [APOLLO smiles darkly.] …naturally, I didn’t try to press the subject.
What's your mandatory angst?
[APOLLO’s eyes narrow again. Not in the suspicious way that he displayed earlier – while they had seemed like he was trying to squint at you, right now his eyelids honestly looked like they were drooping.] The past is the past… and… [His eyes close completely for a second before flickering back open, seemingly trying to balance on the line between awareness and sleep. It had been obvious earlier that he was tired – from working his many jobs as interim leader of Team Rocket and putting far more into them than he needed to, doubtless – and the drowsiness caught up to him...
Or maybe not.] Oh, oh, looks like he’s almost dropped! [The purple blob and VOICE from before returned.] You see, I’m just going to do a simple little invasion of privacy here. Go into brain, use Sleep Talk, and ignore any restraints he had while awake. This guy, of course, has willpower if nothing else. He would never tell you anything otherwise. If not for me, you’d be missing a segment, you know… [The purple blob had faded to a semitransparent glow, and promptly begins to seep into APOLLO’s head.] It may be unnerving to see him do what he’s going to do now, let’s hope this is just audio… Also, keep in mind that I'm not saying any of this, it's true facts just prompted up to the surface.
Sleep Talk!
I was born and raised in Olivine City… I’m sure you know… the port town whose only interesting features are the… lighthouse so aptly called ‘Glitter’ and… I think it is Jasmine’s gym now. In any case, I grew up as an only child… no brothers or sisters… but two parents and a Houndour who I… still have around to this day. [APOLLO takes a deep breath in his sleep. Apparently, Sleep Talk causes human hosts to talk very slowly, as opposed to the Pokémon effect where they practically scream every word. It’s better than nothing – the VOICE is right on that point – but still.] It was a… quaint existence, to put it in… mild terms. Next to nothing happened there… dreadfully boring. My family being rather wealthy… they kept the Gym in working order… and so we wound up with a rather large house that was… very near it. I had no intention to go off on… a Pokémon journey, and eventually… found my own house in the same city. It has since… been abandoned, or maybe given to another person… I don’t know, I never checked. However… I was still young, around twenty-three years old… when the first group of Rockets came. These Rockets, no more than Grunts, had a brain among them… they didn’t try to cause any trouble… but simply marched through, wearing their uniforms in plain sight… not many people in Johto, or Olivine at least… truly knew who the Rockets were… Kanto traders were unwilling to talk about them. And so they went through the city, multiple clumps… unopposed. I should have squashed my curiosity… it was a childish bewilderment with these men who so calmly… came through, acting as if they owned the city already… and I followed a group of them. They were assembling in the nearby Cianwood City… they believed that Team Rocket in its main branch at the time… was in danger of being toppled. And so they had… moved into a new region… and began their preparations, biding their time… to the eventual detonation of the old Team Rocket. It happened… they were right about that. I caught them… in the process of sending Grunts over, a few at a time… and instead of finding out what they were all doing, dressed so similarly… and catching them… they caught me, and forced me to enter into the new Team…
…The rest is… unimportant…
[The purple blob whisked out of APOLLO’s head, and he returned to full, wide-eyed alertness.] …What just happened?
Is there any miscellaneous information you want us to know?
[APOLLO takes a deep breath and seems to shiver.] I have nothing else to say, except that I truly do have a pressing matter that must be attended to and wish to leave as soon as possible… [APOLLO shivers and takes a deep breath again.]
Who are you a proxy for?
I don't understand the question...[/color][/blockquote]
[Quietly, a GASTLY positions himself to the right of APOLLO, who doesn't seem to notice. He has leaned his head on his hand, still staring at the MACHINE with a narrowed gaze. The GASTLY speaks softly before disappearing.] He's manned by Miss Breloom!
[APOLLO's eyes barely move to find the origin of the noise.]
[The GASTLY reappears.] Great, you've gone ahead and bored him. Arceus only knows how many hours of sleep this man has missed lately. Well, there's no further use for you... Stop the recording!