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[video/action, backdated to last night] Chapter 1;
Action for Rocket HQ;
[Having taken the time to assess the situation, Ringabel's come to several conclusions. One, this is not Luxendarc. In fact, judging by some of the conversations he's had, he's in an entirely different world, as are others in his position. By now, he's combed through the Rocket manual. Evidently, he's been drafted into some sort of criminal organization and will be expected to wear that ghastly uniform and conduct theft or risk being reported to the authorities.
It's not what he anticipated. The other newcomers seem to have arrived elsewhere, left to their own devices. What's more, they have but one of these... Pokémon, which he can only assume stands for "pocket monsters."
Before leaving his room, he spends a few more moments skimming the manual, glancing at the network, and jotting down a brief note in his journal. He's spent enough time in this room, and there are still countless unanswered questions weighing on his mind.
So, upon changing into his uniform, Ringabel departs, trailed by a Vulpix and prodded by a Pawniard. A creature resembling a dark knight, of all things.
With his journal in hand, he wanders the halls, jotting down a map as he rounds the corners. His eyes occasionally drift from the page toward any other Rockets within the vicinity.]
If they intend to train me, then they should have at least provided directions...
Action for Goldenrod, leading to Video;
[Some time after acquainting himself with the Rocket base, Ringabel decided to slip back into his more comfortable attire and sneak out for a bit of exploring. Unfortunately, the hustle and bustle of the city's a bit overwhelming at first, with its towering buildings composed of metal and glass, its busy streets, and constantly moving crowds. The lights remind him of Florem, but on a much grander scale. There's so much to see, from the Radio Tower behind him to the various shops and restaurants he passes as he works his way toward the outskirts. The rain leaves a bit to be desired, especially without a jacket or at least an umbrella.
So, what to do? Before he goes about making any sort of recording, he wedges his way through the crowd, looking for anyone who might extend a helping hand, however briefly.]
Ah, excuse me! Could I have a moment of your time?
[Whether or not he receives assistance, he'll later wind up purchasing an umbrella and spending a few moments restyling his hair. After that, he makes his way down to the route south of the city. Once there, he turns on the PokéGear. Despite the weather, he greets the camera with a smile.]
Good evening! My name is Ringabel, and it seems I'll be joining you all on this Pokémon journey.
[He pauses.]
I've done a bit of reading, so I already know the gist of the situation. However, I do have a few questions.
[Reaching into his pocket, he digs out a black journal marked with the letter D and flips to an image of three young warriors. Pretend the surrounding images aren't there.]
First, I'm looking for a few friends of mine. Their names are Edea, Tiz, and Agnès, and if you hear anyone grumbling "mrgrgr" or shouting "unacceptable," then chances are, they're nearby.
[There's also a chance that they haven't arrived in this world, which is... worrying and leads him to his next question.]
Second, what becomes of our worlds in our absence? And is there any significance behind the Pokémon we've received?
[He could leave it at that, but in true Ringabel fashion there's one more question on his mind.]
Last but certainly not least, what can you tell me about the women of this world?
[With that, the feed clicks off, though those in the area may spot him hovering around the route a bit longer before he slips into the Pokémon Center.]
[Having taken the time to assess the situation, Ringabel's come to several conclusions. One, this is not Luxendarc. In fact, judging by some of the conversations he's had, he's in an entirely different world, as are others in his position. By now, he's combed through the Rocket manual. Evidently, he's been drafted into some sort of criminal organization and will be expected to wear that ghastly uniform and conduct theft or risk being reported to the authorities.
It's not what he anticipated. The other newcomers seem to have arrived elsewhere, left to their own devices. What's more, they have but one of these... Pokémon, which he can only assume stands for "pocket monsters."
Before leaving his room, he spends a few more moments skimming the manual, glancing at the network, and jotting down a brief note in his journal. He's spent enough time in this room, and there are still countless unanswered questions weighing on his mind.
So, upon changing into his uniform, Ringabel departs, trailed by a Vulpix and prodded by a Pawniard. A creature resembling a dark knight, of all things.
With his journal in hand, he wanders the halls, jotting down a map as he rounds the corners. His eyes occasionally drift from the page toward any other Rockets within the vicinity.]
If they intend to train me, then they should have at least provided directions...
Action for Goldenrod, leading to Video;
[Some time after acquainting himself with the Rocket base, Ringabel decided to slip back into his more comfortable attire and sneak out for a bit of exploring. Unfortunately, the hustle and bustle of the city's a bit overwhelming at first, with its towering buildings composed of metal and glass, its busy streets, and constantly moving crowds. The lights remind him of Florem, but on a much grander scale. There's so much to see, from the Radio Tower behind him to the various shops and restaurants he passes as he works his way toward the outskirts. The rain leaves a bit to be desired, especially without a jacket or at least an umbrella.
So, what to do? Before he goes about making any sort of recording, he wedges his way through the crowd, looking for anyone who might extend a helping hand, however briefly.]
Ah, excuse me! Could I have a moment of your time?
[Whether or not he receives assistance, he'll later wind up purchasing an umbrella and spending a few moments restyling his hair. After that, he makes his way down to the route south of the city. Once there, he turns on the PokéGear. Despite the weather, he greets the camera with a smile.]
Good evening! My name is Ringabel, and it seems I'll be joining you all on this Pokémon journey.
[He pauses.]
I've done a bit of reading, so I already know the gist of the situation. However, I do have a few questions.
[Reaching into his pocket, he digs out a black journal marked with the letter D and flips to an image of three young warriors. Pretend the surrounding images aren't there.]
First, I'm looking for a few friends of mine. Their names are Edea, Tiz, and Agnès, and if you hear anyone grumbling "mrgrgr" or shouting "unacceptable," then chances are, they're nearby.
[There's also a chance that they haven't arrived in this world, which is... worrying and leads him to his next question.]
Second, what becomes of our worlds in our absence? And is there any significance behind the Pokémon we've received?
[He could leave it at that, but in true Ringabel fashion there's one more question on his mind.]
Last but certainly not least, what can you tell me about the women of this world?
[With that, the feed clicks off, though those in the area may spot him hovering around the route a bit longer before he slips into the Pokémon Center.]
[rocket action]
"They call you"? You don't sound very confident in your own name, Ringabel.
[But he's not going to question or judge it that much, because aliases run rampant in this organization. Nothing very out of the ordinary. Obviously that didn't stop him from making a snarky comment about it, though.]
As for myself, I am Rideaux. I am a doctor and hold the rank of Private in Team Rocket. Depending on where you end up—or how clumsy you are—you might be seeing more of me in the future.
[rocket action]
[His mind briefly flashes back to Alternis Dim, and he winces. No, best not to dwell on that. He'll have plenty of time to sort things out later.]
Hmm, and how many ranks exist in Team Rocket? Is it structured like a military hierarchy?
[rocket action]
Amnesia? Is that a recent development or were you stricken with it before you got here? I have to say it's been a while since I've seen someone with a case of it.
[He wonders what Team Rocket would want with an amnesiac...Ringabel must have some sort of skills to make up for it.]
Something like that, yes, though the titles aren't all the same. The lowest rank is Grunt—which would be you—and the very highest that I am aware of is Admin, though the Admins rarely show themselves.
[rocket action]
[That his lingual, social, and motor skills remain is a blessing. He can't imagine what it'd be like to forget absolutely everything.]
Memories aside, I hope to be a worthy asset of this team.
[At least long enough for him to gain a stronger understanding of said team, but there's no need to say that aloud. Best to blend in for now.]
[rocket action]
[If Ringabel's managed to impress Rideaux in some capacity, clearly he's doing something right. Clearly.
At the next bit, he shrugs and slowly lets his hands fall onto his hips.]
While I do appreciate your enthusiasm, I suppose Emmy will be the first judge of whether you'll be an asset or not. We'll see how well you hold up from then on.
[rocket action]
[She very well could put him through the wringer. As it is, he's still getting his footing in this strange world.]
In any case, how have you dealt with amnesia cases in the past?
[It sounds as though he's encountered it a few times. If nothing else, it'd be interesting to see how his experiences compare.]
[rocket action]
[He gently taps at his hip as he continues.]
Doctors do the most they can to help patients with amnesia ease back into everyday life by helping them relearn important skills or by providing them tools to maintain memories that are easily lost due to the condition.
[rocket action]
[His combat skills remained as well, from what he can tell.]
I've also had a few... vague recollections, but nothing concrete. Moments of familiarity, perhaps, but it's all so hazy that I still can't make heads or tails of it.
[He even takes a moment to pull out the other journal in his pocket-- one identical to the first. Hmm... What to do about this?]
[rocket action]
[Rideaux's tone is one of intrigue, in a "huh" sort of way.]
Your amnesia seems to be pretty specific- targeting memories of events rather than skill-based memories. I wonder what caused it.
[He doubts Ringabel would remember the trigger, obviously.
He watches curiously as the journal comes out. Well, if Ringabel took the time to take it out, there's no way Rideaux's not going to comment on it.]
What, have you been keeping a log of those recollections? Not a bad idea.
[rocket action]
[As for the journal, he winces very briefly.]
Yes and no. One of these journals contains a record of my travels, experiences, and a multitude of cryptic messages from its previous owner. The second journal came from an... enemy, I suppose.
[Which doesn't explain its similarities to the first journal. Or perhaps it does.]