=============
Long time no see. You know I was worth the wait.
Dear commentators, I adore every golden pearl-string of praise. Don't applaud, just throw money.
Charles: -takes a bow- I think I deserved that. Trowa: Get on more, you silly thing. Cosmic: Poor Gio doesn't get any attention at all. I theorize it's his lacking of eyebrows. Jinx: She's going to LOVE this next chapter on Sam, then. But I think you already knew that.
==============
Giovanni's thoughts were scattered...he had two things that normally consumed his thoughts.
Business, and the baby.
He attached money with business.
But right now he was distracted.
Giovanni pulled a little faded blue over onto the road's red, choked shoulder. The car was a rental, but was behaving...Faust quivered in the back, large body pressed against the tan seats. Faust didn't like cars.
The limousine had been vetoed.
Giovanni cranked the stick shift into park, then adjusted his suit, crisp. His shirt was black, and the tie and suit were a muted gray. He smoothed back his hair.
"Alright, stop yowling, we're there."
The walk was taken slow...by the end of it, Giovanni and the Persian were covered in dust. The cat's stomach was burned red, and Giovanni was orange from the knees down.
The building in front of cat and man was hidden by strange, white trees...they wretched and curtsied over the place, alive. The entire thing had been constructed in under a day...and would be torn down just as quickly. The trees would go on their merry way. And The League, once again, would fade into the world's roots.
"On time, Gi-Gi?"
"I try." Giovanni's voice was flat.
"Cigarette?"
"Cigarettes are for women."
Lance chuckled. He couldn't be more then 15, but the League's champions were getting younger and younger. Lance adjusted his gloves boredly. "They'd better hurry. Blaine's been in there for over an hour."
"Who else has been?"
"Just the hedgehog from Pewter. Complaining about his kids. We've got a lottery on when he murders them in a bathtub."
"And who...?" Giovanni's cold black eyes flickered over to a younger girl...Easter-purple hair curled tight to her cheeks, and she wore sharp black glasses.
"Lorelei. She's a nice pair of legs. ...Those with the ring get last dibs."
"More's the pity. You know how I indulge in pedophilia. What is she, twelve?"
Lance laughed. "You're an old man. How's Sam?"
"Pregnant," Giovanni replied stiffly.
"Not getting any, then?"
Giovanni smiled thinly. "You have a foul mouth. I thought you'd been commissioned to The League's good boy image."
"I'm still sulking over it. They said I'd mellow out by next year."
"You're still thinking with your pants. You're too young to think with your pants, and they do little in a tight spot. Littler in your case."
"How's business?" The enquiry was sweet, with a poison-edge.
"A lot better then your pants." Giovanni lifted his face to the sky, the shadowed trees, the sudden cucumber cool.
"Dearest Gi-Gi..."
"It's Giovanni," he corrected, the word touched with an Italian accent.
Lance folded his arms, digging his back into a tree. "You don't expect me to BELIEVE you deal solely in machinery and medical advances."
"You have a reason to believe otherwise?"
"Just a hunch."
"Morality means a lot to me, Lance. That's why I'm here. The League keeps us safe...keeps us secure. Humanity would tear each other apart."
"You have at least five times as much moolah as the rest of us."
"...And I fund a good chunk of The League." Giovanni was beginning to get irritated.
The double-doors swung open. No one actually saw who escorted Blaine out...the hands were black and blurred. They could have belonged to a gorilla or a child.
"Blaine!"
"Hah, good news, I expect!"
"You were in there forever...almost capped Lance's record."
"Which one of us is next?"
Blaine brushed his suit off, touching his moustache worriedly. He looked at the circle of Gym Leaders and Champions, managing a stern frown.
"Oh, not all at once, not all at once..."
"You didn't try those awful puns of yours, did you?"
"AWFUL? I dare say-"
===
Lance was gone for only ten minutes...he came out looking prim and satisfied, expression smug.
The Cerulean Gym leader, a nervous young man with a guilty face, took thirty.
The process continued...most of the leaders left after their turn was over. A few stayed. The ring thinned.
===
The lights were bright, wrecking Giovanni's eyes. Faust stood by his side complacently, pupils shrunk to splinters.
"Who are you?"
"Giovanni of Vermillion, Leader of Team Rocket, son of my mother."
"Whom do you belong to?"
"The people."
"Who serves the people?"
"You do."
"Are you, Giovanni, a traitor?"
"Ever had traitorous thoughts?" The second bit was added on hurriedly.
"Never." Giovanni's voice was questioning.
"Would you ever have traitorous thoughts?"
"...I cannot think of a circumstance..."
"Would you?"
Giovanni paused. "Perhaps."
There was a pleased silence.
"We thought as much."
"I only mean that I cannot perceive my future, or..."
"We can."
"Giovanni of Vermillion, Leader of Team Rocket, son of your mother, who was faithful to us in all matters..."
"You are hereby denied the rights or ability to propagate."
"Marriage to another of opposite gender containing the ability to propagate is frowned upon. Denial of that station will be considered."
Giovanni froze. But his wife...did they want him to divorce Sam?
"What about the baby?" His voice was tense, strained.
"Abortion."
"It...it's too old."
"Then we will see to it."
"What did I do?!" Giovanni demanded suddenly. "What did I do! Please, consider your poor servant..." Sudden, furious, choked.
"Are you having traitorous thoughts, Giovanni of Vermillion?"
"I'm upset with myself. My own sins. I can't recall...Surely I've done something..."
"It is not your sins we are concerned with."
"We find no fault in you."
Giovanni was silent. His hands were tight, trembling. He rested one against the back of Faust's neck.
"I...I'll deliver the child to you. You can raise it yourself."
"We will consider this."
"Or, if I was to find a secondary family...so it would have no knowledge of you...pose no danger, no threat."
"We will consider this."
"Please..."
The customary silence.
Faust was grabbed around the back of the neck. He felt his wrists and shoulders restrained. Drug away.
Giovanni felt very, very sick.
===
"Ho, ho, bet they gave you a raise."
"Yeah, did you-"
The babble of greetings faded. Giovanni's face was pale, withdrawn.
"You alright, old boy? They didn't...?"
"I've got to get back to the car. Back home."
The sun was setting...no telling how long he'd been in there. The time spent with The League and the time that passed outside were separate. He wanted to get home. To Sam. To the baby.
"Yeah, yeah, of course. One of us could drive you..."
"You look awful."
Giovanni was already past the circle of Gym Leaders, rushing past their curious and sympathetic faces. The fast walk stumbled into a jog. And then the only thing that seemed to matter was being home.
============
Well, there it is.
I'm not apologizing for not updating. I suddenly got the hankering to write this, and I did. It's rather rambly. I enjoy doing conversations. More women, action, and blood in the next one. On my honour.
Would our favourite author do anything so cliché as to make this child the infamous Ash Ketchum?!!?!
I'd rather shove ice picks in my toenails and swoop around screaming, "Look, Ma! I'm a raptor!" Remember, this is Giovanni's story.
Besides, I have my own theory on Ketchum's dad. It works like this: In the American dubbing, quite a few members of TR have names involving the outlaws of the Old West. Jesse James, Butch and Cassidy...
One outlaw, numbered in the top ten for fame and bounty-head, went by the name of "Black Jack Ketchum". No kidding.
Now, this could give us a key to Ketchum's father, or perhaps the boy's own bleak future. Either way, it's good fanfiction material. Feel free to steal.
The ending came off a little, "I'm running and I'm cry-yi-yi-ying..." The non- propagate ordeal explains Giovanni's need to sit in dark rooms with a phone and a Persian. And his lacking of scantily dressed women who cling to his hips, despite being horribly rich.
Ah, the allure and sorrows of forbidden fruit.
============
Long time no see. You know I was worth the wait.
Dear commentators, I adore every golden pearl-string of praise. Don't applaud, just throw money.
Charles: -takes a bow- I think I deserved that. Trowa: Get on more, you silly thing. Cosmic: Poor Gio doesn't get any attention at all. I theorize it's his lacking of eyebrows. Jinx: She's going to LOVE this next chapter on Sam, then. But I think you already knew that.
==============
Giovanni's thoughts were scattered...he had two things that normally consumed his thoughts.
Business, and the baby.
He attached money with business.
But right now he was distracted.
Giovanni pulled a little faded blue over onto the road's red, choked shoulder. The car was a rental, but was behaving...Faust quivered in the back, large body pressed against the tan seats. Faust didn't like cars.
The limousine had been vetoed.
Giovanni cranked the stick shift into park, then adjusted his suit, crisp. His shirt was black, and the tie and suit were a muted gray. He smoothed back his hair.
"Alright, stop yowling, we're there."
The walk was taken slow...by the end of it, Giovanni and the Persian were covered in dust. The cat's stomach was burned red, and Giovanni was orange from the knees down.
The building in front of cat and man was hidden by strange, white trees...they wretched and curtsied over the place, alive. The entire thing had been constructed in under a day...and would be torn down just as quickly. The trees would go on their merry way. And The League, once again, would fade into the world's roots.
"On time, Gi-Gi?"
"I try." Giovanni's voice was flat.
"Cigarette?"
"Cigarettes are for women."
Lance chuckled. He couldn't be more then 15, but the League's champions were getting younger and younger. Lance adjusted his gloves boredly. "They'd better hurry. Blaine's been in there for over an hour."
"Who else has been?"
"Just the hedgehog from Pewter. Complaining about his kids. We've got a lottery on when he murders them in a bathtub."
"And who...?" Giovanni's cold black eyes flickered over to a younger girl...Easter-purple hair curled tight to her cheeks, and she wore sharp black glasses.
"Lorelei. She's a nice pair of legs. ...Those with the ring get last dibs."
"More's the pity. You know how I indulge in pedophilia. What is she, twelve?"
Lance laughed. "You're an old man. How's Sam?"
"Pregnant," Giovanni replied stiffly.
"Not getting any, then?"
Giovanni smiled thinly. "You have a foul mouth. I thought you'd been commissioned to The League's good boy image."
"I'm still sulking over it. They said I'd mellow out by next year."
"You're still thinking with your pants. You're too young to think with your pants, and they do little in a tight spot. Littler in your case."
"How's business?" The enquiry was sweet, with a poison-edge.
"A lot better then your pants." Giovanni lifted his face to the sky, the shadowed trees, the sudden cucumber cool.
"Dearest Gi-Gi..."
"It's Giovanni," he corrected, the word touched with an Italian accent.
Lance folded his arms, digging his back into a tree. "You don't expect me to BELIEVE you deal solely in machinery and medical advances."
"You have a reason to believe otherwise?"
"Just a hunch."
"Morality means a lot to me, Lance. That's why I'm here. The League keeps us safe...keeps us secure. Humanity would tear each other apart."
"You have at least five times as much moolah as the rest of us."
"...And I fund a good chunk of The League." Giovanni was beginning to get irritated.
The double-doors swung open. No one actually saw who escorted Blaine out...the hands were black and blurred. They could have belonged to a gorilla or a child.
"Blaine!"
"Hah, good news, I expect!"
"You were in there forever...almost capped Lance's record."
"Which one of us is next?"
Blaine brushed his suit off, touching his moustache worriedly. He looked at the circle of Gym Leaders and Champions, managing a stern frown.
"Oh, not all at once, not all at once..."
"You didn't try those awful puns of yours, did you?"
"AWFUL? I dare say-"
===
Lance was gone for only ten minutes...he came out looking prim and satisfied, expression smug.
The Cerulean Gym leader, a nervous young man with a guilty face, took thirty.
The process continued...most of the leaders left after their turn was over. A few stayed. The ring thinned.
===
The lights were bright, wrecking Giovanni's eyes. Faust stood by his side complacently, pupils shrunk to splinters.
"Who are you?"
"Giovanni of Vermillion, Leader of Team Rocket, son of my mother."
"Whom do you belong to?"
"The people."
"Who serves the people?"
"You do."
"Are you, Giovanni, a traitor?"
"Ever had traitorous thoughts?" The second bit was added on hurriedly.
"Never." Giovanni's voice was questioning.
"Would you ever have traitorous thoughts?"
"...I cannot think of a circumstance..."
"Would you?"
Giovanni paused. "Perhaps."
There was a pleased silence.
"We thought as much."
"I only mean that I cannot perceive my future, or..."
"We can."
"Giovanni of Vermillion, Leader of Team Rocket, son of your mother, who was faithful to us in all matters..."
"You are hereby denied the rights or ability to propagate."
"Marriage to another of opposite gender containing the ability to propagate is frowned upon. Denial of that station will be considered."
Giovanni froze. But his wife...did they want him to divorce Sam?
"What about the baby?" His voice was tense, strained.
"Abortion."
"It...it's too old."
"Then we will see to it."
"What did I do?!" Giovanni demanded suddenly. "What did I do! Please, consider your poor servant..." Sudden, furious, choked.
"Are you having traitorous thoughts, Giovanni of Vermillion?"
"I'm upset with myself. My own sins. I can't recall...Surely I've done something..."
"It is not your sins we are concerned with."
"We find no fault in you."
Giovanni was silent. His hands were tight, trembling. He rested one against the back of Faust's neck.
"I...I'll deliver the child to you. You can raise it yourself."
"We will consider this."
"Or, if I was to find a secondary family...so it would have no knowledge of you...pose no danger, no threat."
"We will consider this."
"Please..."
The customary silence.
Faust was grabbed around the back of the neck. He felt his wrists and shoulders restrained. Drug away.
Giovanni felt very, very sick.
===
"Ho, ho, bet they gave you a raise."
"Yeah, did you-"
The babble of greetings faded. Giovanni's face was pale, withdrawn.
"You alright, old boy? They didn't...?"
"I've got to get back to the car. Back home."
The sun was setting...no telling how long he'd been in there. The time spent with The League and the time that passed outside were separate. He wanted to get home. To Sam. To the baby.
"Yeah, yeah, of course. One of us could drive you..."
"You look awful."
Giovanni was already past the circle of Gym Leaders, rushing past their curious and sympathetic faces. The fast walk stumbled into a jog. And then the only thing that seemed to matter was being home.
============
Well, there it is.
I'm not apologizing for not updating. I suddenly got the hankering to write this, and I did. It's rather rambly. I enjoy doing conversations. More women, action, and blood in the next one. On my honour.
Would our favourite author do anything so cliché as to make this child the infamous Ash Ketchum?!!?!
I'd rather shove ice picks in my toenails and swoop around screaming, "Look, Ma! I'm a raptor!" Remember, this is Giovanni's story.
Besides, I have my own theory on Ketchum's dad. It works like this: In the American dubbing, quite a few members of TR have names involving the outlaws of the Old West. Jesse James, Butch and Cassidy...
One outlaw, numbered in the top ten for fame and bounty-head, went by the name of "Black Jack Ketchum". No kidding.
Now, this could give us a key to Ketchum's father, or perhaps the boy's own bleak future. Either way, it's good fanfiction material. Feel free to steal.
The ending came off a little, "I'm running and I'm cry-yi-yi-ying..." The non- propagate ordeal explains Giovanni's need to sit in dark rooms with a phone and a Persian. And his lacking of scantily dressed women who cling to his hips, despite being horribly rich.
Ah, the allure and sorrows of forbidden fruit.
============