mad-mad-namba:

With Team Rocket and Galactic as now partners, the doors were open to a number of things once thought to be impossible. With two teams, two sets of trainers and leaders over two regions meant they were stronger than a number of people.

But to Professor Namba of the Science Department of Team Rocket, being partners with Team Galactic meant he could see what the science department was like. So after a quick call to Charon and Sird, stating why he wanted to go, Namba was allowed to have a one day visit. He knew what he wanted to see, but he was anxious to see what else was available in the Galactic labs.

Entering the building, stroking his mustache, he scanned the hallway to see just where exactly he would go first.

Zubat… Golbat… Wurmple… Beautifly… Dustox…

Leslie traced her hand across the cold table on which her collars were displayed. She mentally counted off her products for each of the Galactic-owned species. There were at least two for each group. Some particularly troublesome Pokemon, such as Wurmple and its evolutions, had given Leslie and her team reason to produce more collars—each version tested until they found the ‘one’.

Glameow… Stunky… Bronzor… Croagunk…

“They are all accounted for.”

A Porygon clicked by her side. It responded as best it could, so that the words Leslie had spoken did not dissolve into dead silence.

Her list of successful test subjects would grow soon. At least, that was her expectation. For now she waited for paperwork. This was only a matter of time. 

Another sound caught her attention. Because it was not the familiar click of her only loyal Pokémon, Leslie was inclined to investigate. Moved by sheer curiosity, Leslie opened her door, and revealed to herself the hallway as usual, lined with doors to several other laboratories…

as well as a man whom she did not recognize. She stared at him, dead-eyed, an unnatural fuchsia cutting through the emptiness. 

“Who are you?”

mad-mad-namba:

I keep asking for a suitable nuclear fuel source for my death machines, but Santa always sends me coal. It can only power so much of my weaponary old man!

“You are still relying on Santa Clause?”

“You are…?”

This weather was warmer than Leslie was used to. As such, her jacket was her lab coat, which was difficult enough to separate her from without the help of the weather. She sat with a single leg raised onto the bench, overlooking a deserted park and her two Houndour, Porygon floating and clicking by her side. 

In her hands, a single remote, too small to see from a distance. The Houndour sat, stood, and rolled as she explored her own technology. Although it was close to being complete, Leslie had no choice but to spend extra time tweaking the upgrades she had made to the collar to suit the two Houndour. These two… they had seen so many stages of the product that they often reacted differently than the test subjects she had now. More accurately: they were liable to resist changes if they were not made well.

This day, her eyes were white as ice, and they skated across the dead grassy field in search of nothing. They found a wanderer through the Kanto ‘cold’, watched for entirely too long, and then returned, seemingly, to her hands.

pokemoncountdown:

Day 228

Houndour.

commanderpluto:

“You saw for yourself what Sird is like. I’m not sure what working underneath her version of Team Rocket’s research department will be like for you, but I hear she is much more militant with grants than I ever was. If you want to succeed, you need to meet her approval within your first few months, otherwise you’ll fail there.”

Now, if that were to happen, she could always come back. Somebody as brilliant as Leslie would always be welcome to come back, so long as the old man was running the show. “I wish you well out there. Kanto is completely different, but you don’t need me telling you that. You already know.”

“You are doubtful of my ability to succeed?” Leslie was not. The inventor sounded neither offended nor humored. She picked up a collar, one sized for a Dustox, inspected it in her palm. So much potential in these rings. She had achieved much already with them. And yet, so much more to learn about her own work. With Team Rocket she would be able to…

Dead magenta eyes lifted up to Charon’s. Now Leslie explicitly waited for her answer, despite the fact that Charon’s opinion couldn’t tarnish her confidence in the slightest. 

(Source: imaginetotalcontrol)

commanderpluto:

The sound of footsteps permeated the otherwise silent laboratory. Miranda already left after the merging, for fear of becoming a Team Rocket commodity. Charon, however, could call all shots now. Team Rocket made sure of that. The only person on the face of this earth he’d ever have to answer to would be Giovanni and no other. Only Giovanni.

The fat old man made his way into Leslie’s lab. “I heard the news secondhand. You’ll be departing, won’t you?” That was fine. He figured someone this ambitious would want to try something new. “I’m not coming here to stop you. I just want to make sure you are absolutely aware of what your future with them will be like.”

The way Leslie initially responded made it seem as though she had not heard what Charon had to say. She greeted the old man, “Hello Charon,” in an attempt to be polite that actually achieved the exact opposite. She left a significant pause hanging in the air before moving onto Charon’s offer for insight—something she was not sure she needed, but was also willing to accept.

“I am glad. What is it you have to say?”

(Source: imaginetotalcontrol)

There were collars. There were always collars. And as of right now, Leslie was inspecting each and every one by hand, looking for nothing less than perfection. Everything she could call her own needed to be at their best. After all, change was coming. 

Her inspection was serving two purposes, in fact. Of course, she wanted to ensure that her work was indeed in “working order”, but in addition, she was expecting a guest. Her lab would be pristine. Not that it was ever far from the tediously-neat, straight-rowed, sanitized state that Leslie sought to restore, but again: perfection was key.

The room was nearly silent. Every once in a while, metal would clink against a stone table, Porygon would make a clicking noise, or a computer would whine, but for the most part, the quiet rang loudest. 

Which is why Leslie responded to the click of an opening lock, her head facing the door before it had even opened. Her guest had arrived.

researcher-kotori:

Damarus was slightly confused about that choice of move, it wasn’t one he would expect Isha to use.  Ah, but she wasn’t the one taking control, of course.  The young man watched Leslie, and her generally stiff posture made it easy to spot the movement of her hand.  So that’s how she was commanding the pokemon, with that device.

However, he was more interested in finishing the battle, and continued to command his Roserade.

“Use Magical Leaf.”

Leerah tumbled back from the Return tackle, but she quickly sprang back to ther feet for the counterattack.  She shook the bouquets that were her ‘hands’, causing petals and leafs to fall out.  They glowed with a shimmering aura of color, and shot out towards Lopunny.  No matter how quick the rabbit pokemon was, this attack was sure to hit its mark.

She was not going to waste her time calling a dodge on a move that would not miss. Before Leslie, Isha stood still and awaited her next command, taking damage from both the attack and poison as she did so. The influence of the collar could not stop the overworked Pokemon from buckling to her knees, but one press of a button convinced her to rise again.

Leslie was pleased and it showed. A smile creeped onto her face, making her expression such that it seemed she had tasted something delicious. Isha was tolerating her damage very well. “As you see, I have the power to have Isha stretch her limits. You will have to hit her harder than that.” Or let her do the damage to herself. As the borrowed Lopunny threw herself into a Jump Kick, Leslie idly wondered if her opponents would manage a dodge. If getting the battle over with were what the two desired, it would certainly be their wisest option.

(Source: imaginetotalcontrol)

galactarded:

commanderpluto:

Those smiles were an abomination. Then again, this whole display could be marked as an abomination. To be held back by plugged-in grunts, forced to watch something as traumatic as a return to the hive, was unforgivable. “Sorry, Janet,” Charon muttered, barely audible. He wanted to hand something over to Damarus, to give the boy a fighting chance, but perhaps he was too far away. In his other pocket, the old man had his trump card. Now wasn’t the time to use it. Oh, no. He could wait a little longer.

“I’ll make sure you won’t suffer for naught. That’s all I can promise you.” Let her cry, shriek, scream, and curse him; from where he currently stood, Charon had no hopes of saving Janet.

As sick as someone would think it to be, if they knew, Charon did want to see how far Cyrus and Sird were going to go. They had no idea, did they? As soon as they reached the point where it’d be impossible to backtrack, where their actions stuck to them like tar to a now-extinct, prehistoric beast, then he’d fold.

“You think I’m upset? Of course I am! I don’t deny my humanity. I know what I am, but you…I think you’re losing your touch,God. Smiles are for those who feel pride. If you’re blaming me for showing my emotions, you should take a look in the mirror.”

The old man shoved a grunt into yet another, hoping they’d topple like dominoes. “Damarus, if you’ve got the balls for it, try to stop Sird. I’m going after someone bigger.” Cyrus and—

“No…two…”

They’d have to swarm over him like pigeons to spilled snack foods to keep him back. “I’ll say it one last time. That’s my employee, not yours. Touch her, and I’ll make sure you taste another emotion, too: rumination.”

Mars was silent. The ball was out of her hands. So why did she feel so anxious? In a few moments it would be over. Then she could finally rest, and maybe have her injuries looked at. She desperately hoped her wrist would heal - it was her good left hook! She could barely see Charon from where she stood, but seeing his growing anger made her glad she had gotten out of his range, and he had focused on someone more formidable than herself.

Even though Cyrus showed no confirmation of her presence, she hoped he had noted her join him on the stage. If need be, she would gladly step in to assist in any way possible - all of her pokemon being at full health. She’d even push herself past her injuries if that’s what was called for, but she really hoped that wouldn’t be necessary.

So, she was being called upon directly. Leslie stood still, her reaction not immediate. Which was not, for her, a moment of hesitation, but of decision: just who did she care to support? 

And caring here, was a strong word for Leslie. The implications being that she had a particular attachment to either of the assumed Galactic leaders. Moreover, that she was concerned about anything more than which party would be able to provide her with her next project. One glance around the room. From the looks of it, that party consisted of the people on the stage.

By contrast, walking up to the stage was significantly easier for Leslie than it would be for Charon. She awarded neither Janet, Damarus, nor even Cyrus a glance on her way up, directly approaching the one who had addressed her. 

“You called for me.” That was Leslie’s none-too-cryptic way of saying ‘yes’.