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ohmyarceus2021-03-01 07:53 pm
indigo_events) wrote in ohmyarceus2021-03-01 07:53 pm
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risotto nero | jojo's bizarre adventure | spoilers for jjba part 5 in first prompt
[ Risotto has been living on his own for about a decade by now and, maybe more importantly, the last time he was awake and aware, he was dying. So waking up in a room that wasn't his, to a letter from someone claiming to now house and employ him, had been...a bit of a shock to his system.
(So was the fact that when he'd risked opening them, the balls on the desk had in fact contained his 'new teammates', and said new teammates didn't react like the types of tiny, supernatural 'teammates' he'd gotten used to back home.)
As a seasoned, high-level criminal back home, Risotto is taking to his new forced vocation like a fish to water-- oh, no, actually it's going terribly. He's an awful recruit. Oh, he's fantastic at picking locks. He can do everything that's asked of him as far as pick-pocketing and sneaking around and generally looking suspicious as hell in that snappy Team Rocket uniform and domino mask...he's just also asking too many questions. Or refusing to talk at all.
Risotto is going through trainers like wet toilet paper, is the problem, and by the end of his seventh day he's probably made more of a name for himself than any other way he could have gone about this. By the seventh day he has also just barely calmed down enough about all of this that he's chosen a new method of dealing with it: blending in. What was a monstrously troublesome student turns suddenly into a model pupil overnight.
But this means that the hulking man that comes over to your table in the group cafeteria (all the other tables are taken, and last time he stood while eating to avoid sitting with anyone, he got yelled at, and he's doing Best Behavior coping right now) is one you may or may not recognize as both the newest recruit and a hopeless one, at that.
He doesn't say hello. He does not make eye contact. He does immediately dig into the breakfast on his plate like a man who, well, is over six feet tall and built like a brick house.
(Oh no, this isn't...one of those 'come and bother me' prompts, is it...?) ]
[ Or, alternatively, all of the rest of that is true, but Risotto has decided yours truly is the best possible target to show off his pickpocketing skills. He stole something off of them earlier; something small and likely not too valuable. A pen, some money, a wallet...not a watch, he's no David Blane, but he came in with a certain skillset and now that he's actually bothering to use it with flair, he really went to town.
Except now it's later on in his seventh day of training and Risotto's already shown his trainer his hard-won criminal-flavored spoils, so now it's time...to return them. Damn. He sort of assumed this organization was underhanded enough they wouldn't care about making him give this back.
So someone's knocking on your dormitory room door. Said someone is enormous and decked out in their Team Rocket uniform best and then says in a deep, flat voice, an incredibly unconvincing, ]
You dropped this earlier. [ And then holds out...whatever it was he stole. Oops. ]
[ Risotto has finally been allowed to put on civilian clothes after his week of Team Rocket uniform-wearing, and he...stands out almost exactly as much as before. He's huge and clearly new; for all that he's silent and doesn't make a nuisance of himself wherever he wanders, it's equally obvious if you watch him even briefly that he's seen none of this before. He studies it like an alien from another world, which is rather how he feels, having woken up in a place this bright
and filled with theme musicand filled with supernatural creatures.At least the concept of making other beings fight on your behalf is...relatively familiar.
Risotto would rather watch and wait than prematurely act, but some things force his hand...such as his Gastly, something he is still learning how to properly interact with, deciding it's ready for a fight now. Risotto, ever-curious about the 'teammates' he was given, had let it out, and...it seems the Team Rocket training has given it a bit, uh, too much aggression.
Oh crap, is that the battle music that used to happen in training sessions back at Rocket headquarters...? ]
...Sorry, [ Risotto says, attempting to speak over the trilling theme music that's probably already spelled his doom, here. He reaches for his Gastly with the exasperated energy of a man reeling a terrier back to heel. ] We're still getting used to this.
[ Guess it's up to whoever he interrupted how this goes... ]
[ don't quite fit with either of the above, but still want to tag him? contact me via pm or comment and i'll figure out a custom starter / or hit him with one yourself! he'll mostly be being ominous and quiet outside, getting into everything. he won't be acting overtly evil outside of TR headquarters, however; risotto will largely be laying low his first few weeks. ]
A NICE WALK
It's a little annoying, but I'm game if you are.
[Piccolo, his Pidove, hops down from off his shoulder, looking back at him a little shyly.]
Don't worry, I'll be right here beside you.
[He addresses the -- frankly rather muscle-bound -- man in front of him.]
I'd rather not have any of our friends faint over a little battle like this, so how about the winner is whoever gets the other's pokemon to start flashing red first?
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Risotto has learned his lesson about opening these pokéballs outside instead of in his room with the door locked, or on the Team Rocket training grounds. Curiosity may not kill anyone here but it's definitely going to bruise some egos. ]
...The stakes are already low, and you'd prefer them lower. [ The fact that these oddly intelligent but obedient animals not only don't share their injuries with their owner (Risotto had braced for exactly that, the first time he'd been told to practice fighting with his new can-only-talk-in-repeating-singular-words teammates) but can't die is just so strange. So toothless.
And yet he's stuck here, so if this is how one gets stronger...
Risotto considers the offer with an expression of muted annoyance before he shrugs and nods.
He takes several steps back instead of trying to grab onto the ghostly apparition he's now ostensibly in charge of. ]
Then I agree to your terms. [ That's how one gets stronger, right? Risotto isn't sold enough on this strange afterlife to have any specific plans for taking it over or anything of the sort, but— power is always useful.
(He's probably about to get his ass handed to him, he and his poor level fifteen unnamed Gastly.) ]
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[He isn't afraid, really, so much as he's always been something of a soft-touch when it comes to animals. Sure, it's easy enough to head to a Pokemon Center after the fact, but he's not keen on visiting them more often than necessary.
In his own world, he was never particularly good with violence -- or, at least, violence he'd have to commit himself -- so it perhaps isn't too surprising that he isn't particularly good with it here, either.
Still, there's only so much navel-gazing one can do when the battle music's playing.]
Let's see how this goes.
[Piccolo the Pidove is a very sweet, very tiny bird with the memory of a sleepy goldfish. So it takes about two tries for Leonardo to get him to use Gust upon request. But, once that little hiccup is sorted out, Piccolo flaps a tiny column of wind and some leaves picked up by said wind in the Gastly's general direction.
Coo, Coo!]
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But this is a small, contained area, he's already shown his face, it's...probably a bad idea. For later-problems more than any concern about this stranger.
The stranger who owns the medium-sized bird that just successfully caused something to happen. Risotto's a little surprised when the move catches his Gastly up in the ensuing little burst of air - okay. Looks like this isn't one of the creatures that his is immune to. So, logically, he can have it use a ghost type move on it, right...?
Wrong, of course, or mostly wrong. Whatever his Gastly tries, looks like it's not very effective... ] ...Damn.
[ This is...setting up to be a very long battle. Risotto has already moved from a very tense, watchful stance to a more casual stare at the two of them. This is far less intense than training against Team Rocket members... ]
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Leonardo drops his shoulders, letting out a sigh.]
This could take awhile.
[Leonardo thinks about it for another moment, and then makes an offer he'd like to hope the stranger doesn't refuse.]
Would you like to just call it a draw?
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The only beneficial thing is the revelation that even though this man's Pokémon has a move that can hurt his Gastly doesn't mean it necessarily is affected by ghost type moves, so he switched to its sole dark type move and it worked...he's pretty sure... This is really going to take all day, isn't it?
Risotto is beginning to reconsider the merits of knocking the other man out and making a break for it when he's offered a much easier, less violent out than he'd expected. ]
...I would, yes.
I think we're either too evenly matched, or too incompatible. [ Tentative even though the other man is the one who offered, Risotto keeps his eyes firmly on the suspicious (fluffy, easily-distracted) Pidove while reaching out for his Gastly.
Of course, the damn thing is still convinced it has a chance and doesn't give up easily, so Risotto ends up having to rush up on it with its pokéball to put it away. ]
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[Leonardo says, pleasantly enough. Leonardo doesn't exactly call Piccolo back to a pokeball, so much as the slightly clueless bird hops back to him and flutters up to rest on his shoulder. Still, the pigeon doesn't look worse for the wear, perhaps a few feathers out of place and a little bit confused. Then again, Piccolo seems very confused about many things, so perhaps this is just his natural state. The point is, the world's most... evenly matched, let's say, pokemon battle draws to a close, with a few twigs and leaves being the only casualties.
Well, and everyone's patience, but that hardly counts.]
I suppose there are worse ways to spend an afternoon.
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What a surprising revelation. Honestly, almost more surprising than the fact that other people have little creatures that don't wake up angry and wanting to fight everything nearby. Risotto is beginning to realize this might be a Team Rocket-exclusive dilemma...
He's still staring at the Pidove just neatly perched on the man's shoulder until he's addressed again. ] ...I suppose. [ Risotto sounds like he's actually on the fence about it but also understands how to pick his battles.
And after a beat, he even forces out a bland but not entirely awful, ] Thanks for the practice. [ It's costing his pride a little bit but he's committed to blending in, by now. ]
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RUDE AWAKENINGS A
He closes the notebook, sets down his pen, and smiles at the newcomer.]
Risotto Nero, isn't it? [he comments in a pleasant tenor voice.] Personnel said we had a new otherworlder recruit.
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He's also unapologetic about it, so he's set on ignoring the other even after the man starts talking — but hearing his full name is still so jarring, he glances over despite himself. ]
Wouldn't everyone here be from outside of this world?
[ Risotto is still pretty convinced he woke up in an afterlife with a terrible sense of humor, please excuse him and his bad breakfast banter. ]
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No, actually. I'd say less than a dozen of us are. The rest of the Team is actually native to this world. The admins, all the trainers, the people serving food in this cafeteria, the people in personnel who let me know when we have a new otherworldly transfer... all native to this world. There's really only enough of us otherworlders for a single crew.
I'm Steven, by the way. I suppose you could say I'm a ranking member of that crew.
[He takes a sip of his cappuccino.]
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Whatever is going on, this man and himself are in on the same open secret: that other worlds exist.
And then he says ranking member and Risotto recalls that he knew his name and a new piece clicks into place. Risotto's thought process goes from just guarded to cautious.
Because it sounds like this guy may functionally be a boss of his. ]
...Nice to meet you. [ There's way, way too much pause before he says it for that to be genuine, but it doesn't sound sarcastic, either. What's something else to say that's useful and doesn't fully commit one way or the other to Risotto believing this is all really a new world and not an afterlife? ] How long have you been here?
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[Another sip. Although his expression remains benign, Steven's watching Risotto closely over his cup.]
You should be nearly finished with your week of training, according to personnel. Do you want me to pick you up some street clothes for you from the department store? I'll charge it to the Team--they've got an account there under an assumed name.
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But for now, his need for answers means he has little choice but to engage. ]
Are there more otherworlders outside of our organization? [ They're outnumbered? Interesting.
And...when was the last time someone offered to shop for him? Of all the odd things that are going on... Risotto considers his choices and decides it sounds better than turning this uniform inside out in order to blend in while doing it himself. ]
...I'd appreciate it. [ He hates the idea of accepting help, so if he simply thinks of it only as a transactional affair with the organization itself, that's easier. ]
You seem comfortable talking to new recruits, for how rarely this happens.
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He smiles, seemingly unconcerned, although it doesn't quite extend to his eyes,]
Oh yes. A few dozen more--it fluctuates, because sometimes people are returned home, but I'd say at any given time there's fifty to a hundred people from other worlds in the Kanto and Johto regions. We have channels on our pokegears just for us--if you look, you should be able to find the one for otherworlders on Team Rocket and the one for otherworlders in general.
[He sets his coffee cup down and steeples his fingers in front of him.]
Today's your last day of training, right? They should probably be taking your group out into the city to have you steal from actual citizens for your assessment. And starting tomorrow you'll be allowed to leave the base whenever you wish. I'll make sure your street clothes are ready by the time they let you out of training--you can just pick the up at desk like you would any other package. I'll get your sizes from the quartermaster.
[He says it very casually. He's done this before, it's clear.]
And I suppose I am, although it's admittedly been a longer than usual gap between recruits. Last summer we were getting new people nearly every other week--it's a pity that most of them seem to have been relocated home.
[Like Beau, who came and went between Lanque and Risotto, but forgive Steven if he wanted to simplify things earlier.]
At any rate, someone needs to help the new ones get accustomed to how we do things here, so why not me? It makes things run much more smoothly when I do.
your guy is fascinating and I already am loving this cr 👀
But all of this information is useful, and Risotto is hungry for more about this universe, the little details that haven't been covered in training yet. The awareness that this man probably knows that and is counting on it doesn't make it any less important to be getting it.
He needs to be careful, he assumes, even though Risotto can't say he understands enough about this afterlife-or-maybe-alternate-dimension to truly believe he can guess anyone's endgame plans yet.
For his part, he doesn't smile, not even while actively committed to playing it safe and friendly. He just listens and watches and then, as it's clear the other man is done talking, considers it all before responding. His expression isn't inscrutable, but it's mostly only lingered between surprise and a pointed attention. ]
It must be frustrating, losing recruits to...fate. [ What the hell does relocated home mean? ] I'm surprised you haven't burnt out. [ He means: he's seeing that this must be a stubborn, self-motivated man who's in it to climb ranks, not strictly nurture recruits. Alright. Risotto's met men like that before. They can be reliable, even if only because weak teammates hurt their own chances.
After a few more moments of consideration, Risotto actually reaches out of his own accord this time — literally, offering his hand to shake. They're slow to emerge, but evidently he's got manners hiding in there somewhere, and he's decided this is a good time to use them. ] Thank you again, Steven.
...If there's so few of us, I'm sure I'll see you again. Until one or both of us disappears, as you said.
ahhhh thank! and same!
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And... Scene!
rude awakening B
(And of course, Diavolo appreciates it as well; one way or another, Doppio will report back to him, but being able to respond to him with all the insight of someone with other sources and a powerful, watchful eye helps maintain the illusion that he is hiding elsewhere, never too far, as he has claimed.)
So, he's sorting out his thoughts - Legendary Seeker member profiles; ask about Whitney - when he hears knocking.
Well, ordinary enough. Sure interrupted his train of thought - hopefully he wasn't about to write anything important, because it's just gone now - but that's what happens when you're part of such a large "team".
(It's so different from what he did back home, except at quiet times like this, when he's all by his lonesome and waiting for a call, working towards a lofty goal that seems achievable only because the one who set his eyes on it was the Boss, ever larger than life - it's oddly nostalgic, even--)
That's where his thoughts go while he makes his way to the door, anyway.
Then he opens it.
Then he:
a) sees who knocked;
b) hears his voice;
c) processes visuals and sound, and
d) reacts.
By slamming the door shut, evidently.]
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But for now, the only thought that happens is recognition, surprise, and then fury for an entirely different reason.
Fury and then elation, if he's honest. This is a chance Risotto didn't think he'd be given again.
He reacts quickly despite his shock, but perhaps not quickly enough — it's an obvious move and easily foiled, but it must be tried first. Risotto grabs the door handle and, with all the force of a man who trained like he didn't have a stand to throw punches on his behalf back home, he tries to turn the handle and shove the door open. ]
You, [ he snarls, and it's almost hard to believe how quickly the angry desire to not mess up his second chance at this is flooding him. ]
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He makes a noise that's something like a rubber duck being crushed.
What is he supposed to do? Does he grab a Pokéball or a weapon? Now would be a FANTASTIC time for the Boss to call, in fact, because between the instant, kneejerk terror of being face-to-face with a man who came awfully close to killing him and the distant but nonetheless present baseline irritation at having to see this jerkoff again, his limbs are essentially paralyzed. Some form of direction would be great.]
Wait-- Wait, wait, this isn't my room, I'm sharing it...!
[... So maybe that's why the first thing he remembers to do as he backs up is, uh... to present... that argument. What is it supposed to accomplish? Look, just bear with him, he's trying to find his footing.]
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And there's no immediate signs of supernatural pets in this room, either — it's barely even been a full week, but Risotto's a quick learner for threats, and he visually sweeps the room (multiple beds, but no other occupants) for any pokéballs before advancing. ]
Then they can keep your pen. [ Since, you know, Doppio's about to die and very shortly won't be needing it anymore.
If it's a threat about retribution that Doppio means to get across — that Risotto ought to stop because someone will be coming very shortly who would notice Doppio's corpse — Risotto doesn't care. He'd rather not get caught this soon into arriving, but afterlife or not, really dead back home or not, Risotto wants revenge more than he wants anything else. He has nothing else, now.
Which is why he's uncapping the pen to present the only sharp object he actually happens to have on his person at all, and lunges forward to get a grip on Doppio — on his shirt or his actual throat, whatever finds its way more easily under his fingers. ]
Without your stand, you're an easy target. [ Because if Risotto doesn't have his, there's no way Doppio has one either. ]
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The motion he's aiming for? Reach into bag and grab Pokéball.
What actually happens? Reach into bag and somehow fumble into slapping Pokéball into a direct trajectory towards Risotto's face.
Before it connects, the ball opens with a flash and sends out a blob that Doppio faintly recognises as Cristina; whether the spin he accidentally put on the Pokéball means the Morpeko hits Risotto in the face or just flies onto the bed, the next few seconds will tell.]
there is no dignity in this thread
Well, a bit of a repeat as to how he died in their first fight. At least this miscalculation only ends up in-- ] Dammit--
[ Risotto has not, in fact, physically attacked a single pokemon since arriving and being taught the basics of battling with them by other Rocket members. If asked, he'd have naturally assumed it might follow the same rules as back home - that you can't fight them yourself, otherwise why would anyone stand idly by and let two oversized caterpillars scowl at each instead of settling it themselves?
But reflexes mean that when the small, strange capybara (???) is suddenly in front of his head, Risotto lets go of Doppio in favor of grabbing that, and he's actually successful in catching it.
Sort of. After it's already hit his nose pretty damn hard, anyway. He's definitely touching it, so that's another difference from stands that he's just confirmed, if nothing else.
Risotto definitely tries to just throw it back at Doppio's face the second he gets a good grip on it. ]
GOD none at all
[Is Doppio more comfortable politely asking Risotto not to hurt Cristina, or is he just relieved to be able to breathe again and celebrating by doing one of the many things that oxygen allows one to do, such as Speaking? It's mostly the latter, actually, but it wouldn't be fair to completely discount the former.
His relief is short-lived, though, because then Risotto is throwing Cristina right back at him, and sure, she won't hurt him, but she certainly is impairing his vision. Significantly, what with her little feet scrambling to climb to the top of his head and lightly (harmlessly, he may notice later) scratching his eyelids in the process.]
Cri-- Hey, hey, come on, turn around!
[SHE'S TRYING, okay. Her fur bristles as she chirps irritably, and the way the light reflects off of it almost makes it look like it's turning a different colour.]
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Because this place has weird rules that he's still learning, and maybe he was too quick to engage. But he can't very well retreat the way he used to be able to, either, so...
Risotto considers using his own pokemon, which seems like a terrible idea because it means those are several seconds he can't spend trying to kill Doppio physically with his hands, but if it turns out this little thing is actually dangerous...
He grunts with both effort and frustration as he just doubles down on attacking personally. Pen gripped in his fist, hand gripping for the front of Doppio's shirt, Risotto is doing his level best to just stab him in the throat like he's being paid for it, okay. Yes, with a pen. He's killed people with stranger objects. ]
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