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ohmyarceus2020-01-01 07:17 pm
indigo_events) wrote in ohmyarceus2020-01-01 07:17 pm
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Lydia | The Adventure Zone: Balance | OTA
Typically, typically a change of scenery and not being in the Eternal Stockades would be real nice. Except that Lydia has, unfortunately, learned rather quickly that there's a while lot different than not being stuck in a jail cell. Mostly that she's fleshy, luckily in the form she'd normally taken even as an illusion, and having the unfortunate time of realizing she has to take care of mortal needs again.
Food, water, that whole mess isn't something she's too keen on thinking about. Nor is she particularly pleased to be cut off from both her necromancy or illusion spells, even cantrips don't seem to work.
But she's having to get used to it and is huffing softly to herself as she's leaning against a wall and side-eyeing the other "new recruit", as they'd called them, who's having to listen to this "admin" drone on about the finer points of theft.
"Honey, I picked pockets and stole from people all the time as a child. I don't know why I'm even having to listen to you ramble on while you've probably only learned this in the last few years while I've had hundred of years to learn this." Her voice is absolutely dripping with sarcasm and pure annoyance along with a sickeningly sweet meaning on top of it all.
Elves.
Pokegear
While I appreciate the quaint atmosphere the cities here seem to have, I'm getting real sick of seeing some of the most boring fashion known to Faerun around here.
There has to be a good place to get something actually good, hell, I'd even take designer nonsense right about now. I cannot with this absolutely drab garbage.
While I'm thinking about it, is becoming a fleshy nonsense mortal a normal thing around here? I appreciate the thought, the whole being absolutely gorgeous thing, but I miss not having to worry about eating and drinking.
Trust me, this sucks.
Goldenrod
Also not happy about not having her magic anymore - one very short woman also being forced to sit through Theft 101.
"I don't want to- okay, I do want to brag, but I could probably take everything you have on you right now without you noticing. Can I do that, like as a way to get out of this class? Is that a thing we can do, like testing out?"
Bagging on this instructor may be the only thing they'll ever agree on, but for now maybe it's enough.
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She's snorting softly and rocking back and forth on her feet, because of course this is the rant she's going to stick to. "You gotta have some flair, to make yourselves remembered and this sure isn't it, darling~" Perhaps it'd be better if she were gagged or given something to kill her attitude.
Not that Lydia ever really cares about anyone else's opinion, of course not. "Isn't it pathetic how they don't even test our skills before deciding we have to go through this nonsense? I could just gag."
Goldenrod
"Doesn't matter," he says flatly. "We all have to suffer a week of training before they let us out in the wild. Suck it up and it'll be over before you know it."
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"But isn't it a waste to be "teaching" me something that I already know and have excelled at?~ Theft is amateur hour, I've done much better crimes than this mess~" Why she's pretty much cooing these sentences is anyone's guess, but she certainly is trying her best.
"And what are you up to, dear sir?~" Looking for ways to manipulate people is what she's doing, that's fine.
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Sorry, Lydia, but the man's basically immune to your charms. He's far too gay to be effected by feminine cooing.
He shrugs. "Dropping off my biweekly quota. Once they let you out of training, you have to turn in a level fifteen or higher Pokemon every other week. Otherwise your time is largely your own."
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"If I had access to my magic, I would have already made this whole damn place into my personal plaything, but for some reason I can't do that anymore. Not that I'm necessarily complaining about being flesh and blood again other than having to relearn how a living body works." You know what's weird when you go from being dead to alive again? Breathing. Most people don't think much about it, but when you haven't had to do it in several hundreds of years, things get real weird real quick.
"... That's it? That's. Honestly kind of pathetic that that's all they ask of someone." She would absolutely be asking for more, but she's probably a lot more villainous than the majority of the Rockets running this show. "Maaaaan, what am I even supposed to do." Maybe listen to what's going on in this training, but that's assuming she cares.
no subject
The man looks to the admin. "Let me deal with her," he says, and he'll draw Lydia outside the classroom.
"Look," he says sympathetically, once they're more or less out of earshot. "I really do get it. Mandatory training is unbelievably stupid. And all the local Rockets are just as stupid. But transplants like us are largely on the bottom of the food chain. We're allowed to suggest missions for ourselves—in fact, they reward the initiative—so if you want a better rank, just put in more hours of crime. And once this is over, I can bring you onto Jack's and my crew and we'll find something interesting for you, where you can use your talents."
no subject
Hey, she's more than happy to get away from that admin for a little bit, given she's just stretching for a moment or two on their way to wherever outside of the classroom he's leading her. There's an audible pop, but she doesn't seem bothered by it if she even remotely noticed.
"You know the last time I was at the bottom of a food chain I was in a cult of necromancers." That's the most dead-pan voice she can muster, not seeming particularly bothered by all of this. "I guess if I can survive to later destroy those stupid bastards by getting what they couldn't achieve, that I can survive this long enough to laugh at them later on." While in the most high fashion clothing she can get her hands on with whatever money she manages to con out of people.
Or whatever means necessary.
"And just who are you and this Jack person? I don't take well to being told to do things by others, darling, you must understand an old soul like myself doesn't care to go back to menial labor after centuries of luring people into a death trap with just myself and my brother."
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"And I take it he detests this nonsense as much as the rest of us?" If someone has rose to those ranks, then there's only really two reasons for doing so as far as she's concerned. Either they're addicted to some sort of power or wants to find a way to take over. Or both. Could be both.
"Lydia. A pleasure, truly, darling. You're the first sane person I've spoken to in this place, honestly. I'll be metaphorically pulling my hair out until this whole mess is over with."
no subject
"Oh yeah," Steven says, with a broad shrug. "He says in all the years he's been here, he still hasn't been able to figure out what Team Rocket's actual goals are. But yeah, good to meet you, Lydia. Once you're done with this bullshit, let us know? Even if your magic doesn't work here, I'm sure you'll have something to bring to the crew."
no subject
Years of being here, that almost sounds worse than being here in the first place and she's letting out a slow sigh through almost clenched teeth. Great. So she's stuck here. In a mortal body. Without her magic. In bondage to a bunch of idiots no one knows the actual goals of.
Perfect.
"Luckily I have a few things up my sleeve other than just magic, since you gotta start somewhere before you're even able to start learning all of that shit." Like being a street rat urchin type, but that's a tale for another time entirely. "I'll absolutely get in contact with you once I'm done with all this nonsense, promise~"
no subject