...with style!

Former Team Flare Grunt. Newly recruited Team Rocket Grunt. Fashion Police. [Part of Rocket HQ]

[rocket-flare]

Stunted Growth || Brodie & Roger

[thieving-faces-blog]

From out of what seemed like no where came a an with beautiful silky indigo hair, dancing in the gently breeze that brushed past his cheeks. He had what looked like a beautiful res wool scarf around his neck. Noticing the other man on the bench the man started to approach him steps firm yet cautious, Humming softly Brodie continues until he reaches the man and sits next to him. He started to winder what he could say to this man, tilting his head slightly those plush lips spread apart for words to come from deep within his throat. 

Brodie winked at him, “Hey there big boy. What’s a stud muffin like you doing all the way out here?” His eyes seemed to flutter closed before those plush red lips curl into a small friendly smile that almost felt as warm as the heat wafting off the man.  He felt he was a but to direct from the stud muffin comment but what was said was said. He waited for the others reaction, all the while wondering how he is going to flirt with the other. This man was pretty attractive, aaaand his style was not not that bad either. Perhaps he would have fun with this

[rocket-flare]

Roger froze in his spot as he suddenly sensed someone beside him. Up ‘til this minute, he had been lost in contemplation, idly staring at the pond with somewhat of a melancholy gaze. He was so transfixed, he honestly hadn’t heard the stranger’s footsteps. However, as soon as he felt them sitting down beside him, the redhead’s entire body stiffened in alarm.

“Hel-” Any kind words of introduction were immediately trapped in his throat upon hearing the stranger’s attempts to woo him over. In perhaps any normal situation or daydream, Roger probably wouldn’t have minded a little flirting. After all, how often did he get to have that kind of fun with someone? But there was definitely something about the stranger’s bad timing mixed with their particular word choice that left Roger feeling rather... uncomfortable.

“Hi,” he said, the discomfort obvious in his tone of voice. “I didn’t know anyone knew about this pond.” 

It was odd; a part of him was agitated that he had been discovered. After all, he was definitely in a very pensive state of mind right now and the last thing he needed now was some trivial human interaction, and yet, a part of him - somewhere far in the back of his mind - was definitely enjoying this stranger’s company.

[rocket-flare]

Stunted Growth || Drabble

There comes a point in every man’s life when they feel as though they’ve hit a plateau - a wall, a dead end, that impenetrable force in life that manages to keep you from going in the direction that you were going.  

Now, If you’re a man like Roger who, for some time now, has lacked a direction in life, you might find yourself wondering how you could have gone wrong in the first place. After all, you’ve only worked menial staff positions under two criminal organizations... it’s not like you were going to school or working a 9 to 5 job or living any sort of life with pre-imposed goals, so how could you go wrong?

And yet, somehow Roger still seems to feel lost. He doesn’t quite understand what’s going on in his life right now. He hasn’t quite put the pieces together, nor is he even sure if he has the right pieces, at all. 

There’s still so much for him to figure out and every night, much like tonight, he’ll mozy his was on over to a very specific pond of water just  a few yards from HQ, and he’ll sit there and think. 

He’ll think, and think, and think about everything happening in his life, hoping that some day it’ll all hit him, and he’ll know what to do.

[rockettrey]

Lights out || Roger & Trey

It was the unholy hour of 4am, and for the third time this week, Trey had been saddled with the graveyard shift. Ah, new recruits had all the fun…

He didn’t mind it too much, in truth - it was a laughably easy gig. Plus, his sleeping schedule was already out of whack, what with partly feeling like he was still running on Hoenn time. Armed with only a flashlight and his trusty pokeballs, the former Aqua Grunt circled the HQ grounds at a leisurely pace, enjoying the meditative serenity of it all. It was a crisp, moonless night, the type where the milkyway shone so bright overhead that it appeared painted on.

As he reached the area just outside the dorms, some sort of shuffling sounded out from the direction of a nearby warehouse. Trey reacted immediately, snapping the flashlight towards the source. Breath held, he remained perfectly still, watching and listening intently for any further movement. After what seemed like an eternity of pure silence he lowered the flashlight, frowning, eyes narrowed in suspicion. There wouldn’t be an intruder here, surely… who’d be dumb enough to invade Team Rocket’s territory? Still, he reckoned he should at least investigate, just in case some sort of wild pokemon had snuck in.

Perfectly composed and focused on the task ahead, he started towards the warehouse… Only to almost immediately stop dead in his tracks, startled by the sensation of something scurrying up his back.

"GYAH, WHAT-“

He cried out in surprise, fumbling and dropping the flashlight. It hit the concrete with a clatter and switched off.

"…Oh. Hey, lil’ buddy."

It was only his Kecleon, who apparently at some point had run off without him noticing, and had just emerged from one of the HQ dorm’s windows. The chameleon-like pokemon chirped a greeting, stretching luxuriously before draping himself across his trainer’s shoulders. Trey grinned, relieved, and reached towards the bridge of his partner’s nose, it’s favourite spot for scritches.

"Where’d you run off t-"

Hand paused in mid-air, he realized with a mixture of horror and annoyance that the sticky-fingered Kecleon was possessively clutching something. Something that clearly didn’t belong to him. Most likely, he’d swiped it from somewhere nearby.

"The hell… Dammit Leo, you have a real problem, y’know?" He muttered, snatching the object from the Kecleon, who simply looked around nonchalantly, it’s eyes pointed in two different directions. Clearly, he’d already lost interest in the conversation.

"What’s this junk, now?" Trey squinted at the item in his hands, trying to make out what it was in the dim light.

[rocket-flare]

Anyone who knew Roger knew that it wasn't uncommon of him to take a nightly stroll outside of HQ; it was his daily opportunity to clear his head and reflect on the day's events. But on this moonless night, the air sifted with a new gravity.

There were several times in his duration here with Team Rocket that Roger had thought about leaving. He had made a small handful of friends and enemies along the way and despite the steady income, he had found himself wanting more. A new setting, a new lifestyle, a new Roger. And for that reason, we find him pacing through the woods with a ticket in his hands - a blimp ticket.

Roger sighed. His trusty Houndoom, Sasha, was walking by his side, staring up at him forlornly. The two were so pensive right now - so absolutely lost in thought - that neither of them seemed to notice the Kecleon lurking just a few steps ahead of them. 

And, without so much as a warning, the Kecleon shot its tongue out and latched the ticket right out of Roger's hands. Absolutely dazed, Roger couldn't make heads or tails of what just happened; even Sasha was a little thrown, unaware of where the ticket had mysteriously flown to. But their confusion didn't last for long. Both pairs of eyes darted to the foreign Pokemon, a snarl forming over Roger's lips. He didn't know what kind of Pokemon he was dealing with right now, but one thing was for sure - that thing had his ticket!

"Get him." 

And the chase began. 

At some point in the midst of all the chaos, Roger had drawn out a second PokeBall and summoned his Pancham, Bam-Bam, to help out. Together, the three of them had raced through the woods in search for that Kecleon. The rascal had occasionally decided to blend into it's surroundings, but Sasha was a badass bitch and had gotten his scent a while back. After fifteen minutes of tracking it's scent down, there was nowhere for it to hide. 

The chase had now brought them all back to Rocket HQ where the three of them finally caught up to the damn thief. They were some several feet away at this point and, too angry and determined to really care, Sasha shot forth a Flamethrower attack and seared the grass where the Kecleon just stood. The attack had missed, and Roger thought he was about to have an aneurysm as soon as he saw the Kecleon climbing into someone's arms.

"You..." As  temperamental as can be, Roger was fuming right now. "That thing is your's."

[gamblersgrimm]

Real Estate || Mewtwo & Roger

[gamblersgrimm]

«Yes,» Mewtwo replied, nodding, as if it were the most normal thing in the world, «created. I was cloned from an Ancient, or so I understand. Needless to say, I am the superior creation in every imaginable way.» Or so he was often told, at least. His last and only battle with Mew had made him reconsider this statement many times, however, apparently arrogance was something he was a little bit predisposed to—so the strongest he remained, even if only in his mind.

He paused when Roger asked about his research; it wasn’t something Mewtwo had over spoken with a human about, before, and he honestly wasn’t sure he could explain it right to the man. Hell, he’d barely been able to explain it to the pokemon he met along the road. Casey was so much better at explaining the Call to others. «I am learning,» he said pathetically after a long moment of debate, «I have encountered… strange things on my travels, and I cannot find anything about them anywhere—except for here. Your databases are brimming with information, much more than anywhere else I have found.»

A year was a long time to be stuck in Team Rocket; Mewtwo knew this well, firsthand. Regardless of how long Roger considered his year to be, Mewtwo found himself with a measure of respect for him, for surviving in this hellhole for such a time. «You must be very strong, to have remained here that long,» he murmured, «are you here of your will? Or did they force you, as so many others?»

Dorms? Mewtwo had heard of dorms, before, but mostly for young humans going to old–school. He didn’t realize they were something Team Rocket could have—why didn’t humans have laws against Team Rocket having dorms? It would certainly help them in the Good Fight. Of course, then Roger began talking about Kalos, and threw Mewtwo for a loop. Like, what was a Kalos even. It sounded like a cereal. «What is ‘Kalos’? Can you eat it? Is it good?» A pause. «…What is ‘shitty’?» As always, the psychic-type only asked the important questions.

At the question of his age, Mewtwo proudly puffed out his chest and drew himself up taller. «I was created sixteen years prior to this date!» he announced, «I have lived many years and experienced many things! How old are you?»

[rocket-flare]

"Strange things," Roger thought aloud, trying to understand what it was that Mewtwo was getting on about. He was being so vague right now, Roger was inclined to press further. But... then again, why mess with a Pokemon that was so easily capable of destroying him at the drop of a hat? Besides... Roger's gut was telling him that Mewtwo didn't quite know how to explain these things himself. "Well, that's certainly not the worst reason to come to Rocket. I can tell you that much." And almost immediately, Roger began searching for the words to answer this next question.

"Yes," he said, somewhat bittersweetly. "I actually came here out of a will... of sorts." He had to pause, suddenly weighing in the gravity of this question. No one forced him, that's for sure. But working for groups like Team Rocket was all Roger really ever knew how to do... "It's hard to explain... these past two year's have been a slump for me." 

Roger's pondering had been immediately interrupted by Mewtwo's curious questions. "What?" He said, perhaps too quickly. "You don't know what- ahahaha!!" His laugh echoing throughout the bathroom tile, all he could think about was how he was starting to like this guy more and more.

" Wow, sweet sixteen's, huh? I should throw you a party." Chuckling, he folded his arms over his chest. "I am 23 years old and feeling rather ancient right about now. Um... Kalos is not a food but a region, some several seas away. And shitty..." He paused again, entertaining the act of having to explain this.

"Shitty refers to 'shit' which means 'poop.' So essentially, times are poopy and my circumstances are not good."

"

[rocket-flare]

Reprise of Flare || Roger & Malva

[fashionablehothead]

Just a slight tip of the head. That’s all. She only turned half her face back at Roger-just enough to let him see her flash her little grin again. Her Pokemon’s steps slowed to match Malva’s, which continued to drop until she was practically stopped again. Her hand was still delicately placed on Canter, running her hand harmlessly through his mane. She gave another small, lighthearted chuckle, so quiet you could only tell she was even chuckling because her shoulders bobbed a bit.

"Mm, uncertainty, my favorite expression from my audiences. Such a lovely, hypnotic, effect…Let’s…build the suspense, shall we?”

Read More

[rocket-flare]

Oh, no. I don't like where this is going.

Roger could tell that Malva enjoyed having the upper hand; she had all the tricks up her sleeve and could easily pull one out at any moment. There was a pleasure in this that Roger had to admit to enjoying, but he wasn't entirely sure how much he enjoyed being on the receiving end for once.

Trying his best to disregard her bitter subtleties and dramatic mannerisms, he he pursed his lips in anticipation, wondering where she was going with this. 

So Flare is still alive... or perhaps, just barely. But... she wants to do what to Team Rocket??

Moment by moment, Roger was piecing the all the information together. It was all coming together in short bursts, but in order for Roger to really wrap his mind around this - to seriously consider what it is that he might be signing up for - he was gonna need time to think.  ,

"And let's suppose that I were to offer my services towards this 'maintenance issue' you speak of," he said, wanting to get this last bit of information out of her. "Where could I find you?"

[dorkofthedance-blog]

The Restaurant Catastrophe! | Roger & Tierno

[dorkofthedance-blog]

Awkwardly giving a small smile, the waitress replied, “I promise you sir, that I will get to your meal right away.” Afraid of what the burnette would do next, she dashed to the kitchen. Not thinking of taking Tierno’s order. Meanwhile, the teen couldn’t help but feel sorry for the waitress. It wasn’t like any of this was her fault. After all, she was only trying to do her job.

"If you wanted Mexican food so badly then why didn’t you just go to Taco Bell or Chipotle Mexican Grill?" At first, due to his cowardliness, he was croutched down in his seat. However, the wannabe dancer soon realized that he needed to speak up. This time though, he was stern with his approach.

"You would have gotten your food in a short amount of time AND be on your merrily way with whatever plans you had for today. But you just had to lose your cool and take it out on that poor waitress."

Getting up from his booth, the Italian pointed and exclaimed, “You sir, have issues!”

[rocket-flare]

Roger's breathing became staggered; he knew better than to act like this in public but he was so blinded by his rage and hunger that he didn't care if he was making a scene. Although, judging from the ironic merriness and bustling atmosphere, it looked like no one seemed to be paying any attention to the the seething hothead... except for Tierno.

As the waitress scurried off, Roger took another sigh. What a crappy day this was turning out to be for him. He looked down at his phone; he had less than ten minutes now to get his food, pick up his Pokemon's medicine, and make it back to work. He might as well just screw it and get going.

In fact, Roger was just about to get up and go when Tierno finally decided to throw his two cents in.

"Excuse me?"

Roger had long forgotten about this kid until just now; his eyes sharp as daggers, he looked to him with a hellish expression. " A: Taco Bell's quesadillas are nothing more than a naked slab of some chickenless imitation heaved onto a crusty tortilla - so umm, no thanks. B: The nearest Chipotle is over 15 minutes away by car and I do not have the time or patience to walk my sorry ass over there!"

His gears now whirling out of control, Roger began to rise from his seat. "C: Don't even think about giving me bullshit when they're the ones who keep fucking up! It doesn't take FIVE waiters to get an order right!!"

"And for the record," he said, pointing a finger now. "I ordered fucking quesadillas. QUESADILLAS. Not filet mignon. Not caviar. But fucking quesadillas - that's all I ever wanted!!! And now my dreams are crushed."

[rocket-flare]

Merry Christmas || Siebold & Roger

[flooded-chambers]

      In his opinion Roger was being entirely too modest with the amount effort he had put into its tailoring. It wasn’t hard to picture Roger busying himself at his station, laboring away and cursing every now and again when something didn’t want to work quite the way he wanted it to. This was the craft of a professional. 

      ”Have you humored pursuing this further?” He asked, glancing back towards the red head with growing curiosity. What else had he made in that closet of his? As much as he wanted to stray over and look he had more manners than that; if Roger wished to show him that was his choice. 

Read More

[rocket-flare]

"Ehehe." Roger couldn't help but stifle a few more chuckles. He was just so damn proud of himself right now and relieved that Siebold liked it. But would it fit? They would soon find out.

"Oh, sure! Feel free to," he said, already beginning to unbutton each garment piece. One by one, he quickly undid each layer until the entire ensemble had been draped gently over his arm. "Do you wanna try the entire outfit? You could probably use my bathroom there, if you'd like."

Using his free arm, he pointed over to the door across the room; there was thick, black-framed mirror hanging on the front side. Roger was more than certain that Siebold would prefer to change in there than out here.

[rocket-flare]

Merry Christmas || Siebold & Roger

[flooded-chambers]

He tolerated the laughter. Tolerated it with a firm look that did little to deter Roger at this point. This wouldn’t be the first time one of his looks didn’t influence him to behave and it wouldn’t be the last. At least he wasn’t pointing at him or carrying on much beyond his initial outburst. Much. 

Read More

[rocket-flare]

Any initial anxieties towards the suit had long been broken as he watched Siebold's reaction to the unveiling of his gift. 

"Well, I didn't make it entirely," he confessed, unable to take credit where it wasn't rightfully his. "But if you had seen it before when I originally got it? Oh, ho, ho. No one would have thought twice about wearing it." Adjusting one of the lapels, he stepped back for just a second to admire his handiwork; a little re-dying here, some stitchwork there, and plenty of hemming and altering went into this masterpiece. Roger might not have had the experience to fully pattern and construct it from scratch, but he certainly had the will and know-how to repair it. 

"It was a bitch getting your measurements without you noticing, let me tell you," he said, grinning yet again. "So if something doesn't fit, just let me know and I can try to hem it for you. But... I think I got most of them right. Hehe." 

[rocket-flare]

Merry Christmas || Siebold & Roger

[flooded-chambers]

He never expected it to stick, or for Roger to actually consider it yet there they were, the very Pokemon they were attempting to nick name chirping its acceptance before he could so much as deter Roger from the suggestion. 

"Pip it is then," he made no move to protest it, not with the pair looking like that. 

Read More

[rocket-flare]

"AHAHA," Roger couldn't help but burst into laughter yet again, astonished that he was able to strike that reaction of him. "Alright, alright, here we go. Keep them closed."

And after making sure that Siebold's eyes were finally closed, Roger turned around and began to pull the black cloak off the mannequin, finally revealing what was hiding underneath... but not before giving Siebold one last, "No peeking!"

Upon finally removing the cloak, we see a brand new, fly-as-fuck, Navy, pinstriped suit - coat, pants, shirt, and tie - the full ensemble! The jacket itself was single-breasted and of a rich, navy blue reminiscent of the deep sea. The interior showcased a light blue and white striped button-down shirt; tucked under the collar was a matching navy tie with a dotted swiss print, pinned and tucked in tight. With the matching pinstripe pants hemmed to Siebold's measurements, the last detail to feast your eyes upon is the combined silver and Sapphire-studded brooch pinned onto the lapel.

"Alright, Siebold. You can open your eyes."

[rocket-flare]

Merry Christmas || Siebold & Roger

[flooded-chambers]

It was that happiness that made the efforts worthwhile. A memory he knew he would cherish long after it passed and as fleeting as any moment was. He dared not to linger on it as he withdrew and nodded in response to the thanks. There simply was no need for one, he could take in such appreciation and know it was sincere.

Much like Roger, the chef’s attention was drawn to the little Pokemon that now belonged to Roger as it started to move and before he could very well warn the other of what to expect from it when it fell it took a spill all on its own.

Read More

[rocket-flare]

Roger quirked an eyebrow in interest. "Pip," he repeated, testing it out.

--"Pip!" Said the little one, naturally responding.

"Well then!" Roger looked back up to Siebold, an excitement in his eyes. "I think Pip approves, hahaha." 

And with all the merriment and giddiness in the world, he plopped Pip gently onto his bed and skeddaddled his way over to the cloaked mannequin that had been sittting in the corner of his room this entire time. 

"Alright, now it's your turn!" He said, whirling around. "Close your eyes!" 

There, he said. Those ill, foreboding words. Mischief was written all over Roger's face but he had been slaving away for too long at his sewing machine not to let this moment be as grand as it can be.

"Not you, Pip!" He said, practically bursting into laughter because, of course, the poor Piplup thought that his trainer had been talking to him instead and had decided to cover his eyes with his flippers. "I'm talking to Siebold~"

"Go on! Stop giving me that look," he said, knowing all too well that Siebold was going to be skeptical and put up resistence, but he was just going to have to trust him. "Come on. Put on your big girl pannies and close your eyes already... pleeeeease."

[rocket-flare]

Merry Christmas || Siebold & Roger

[flooded-chambers]

His laughter earned him a pointed look though it hardly held malice within it and the sharp wit didn’t follow. Had he not been holding the box with a very important gift inside it he might have tried to be more personal with it. “Laugh if you will, but remember I was able to untie it.” The words were wound with amusement as he whisked his hand to and fro through the air as if to wave it off. 

Read More

[rocket-flare]

What a wonderful night this was turning out to be. 

Roger had reverted his attention back to the Piplup just in time to be surprised by Siebold's little gesture. 'Oh,' he thought, beaming, yet again, if that were at all possible. The past few minutes have been an entire high for him, he couldn't recall touching the ground.

"Thank you, Siebold," he said, simply unable to keep from smiling.

And, at that moment, the little Piplup took a few steps forward and plummeted towards the carpet. Roger froze in horror, expecting the water-type to start crying, but nothing happened! It just kind of laid there, motionless for a few seconds.

"Is it broken?" He murmured under his breath, just before the Pokemon finally brought his flippers forward and lifted himself back up.

"Oh my god..!!!" Somewhat overcome again, Roger ran over and picked the little guy up, quickly scooping him into his arms and cradling him.

"Not a scratch on him. This little guy means business!" He said, looking straight into the Pokemon's eyes. Roger didn't even like dealing with babies but, without even realizing it, he was totally head over heels for this little Piplup.

"So... what are we calling him? Siebold, Jr.?" He joked, grinning.

[rocket-flare]

Merry Christmas || Siebold & Roger

[flooded-chambers]

Of course Siebold took in every inch of the room, moreso out of curiosity than for another reason. He was, however, thankful that things were tidy here at least. He wasn’t quite ready to let Roger find out why he was so well kept himself, especially not tonight. It let him focus on the very things that made Roger who he was and spoke louder than any words or mannerisms that had previously been demonstrated. It made him feel better of his choice of gifts, gifts he handed over to Roger not long after. 

Read More

[rocket-flare]

Roger couldn't help but start laughing as Siebold struggled with the ribbon, even more so when that brief curse was uttered. "Ahaha, it's perfectly alright," he said, shrugging off Siebold's brief insecurity there. 

Gently, he opened the box and let his eyes feast on the treasure inside: a sole Dive Ball, nestled in tightly. He knew that it was a PokeBall like any other but there was something about the gravity of the situation that made him hold onto the ball for dear life; as he drew it out of it's box, he couldn't help but feel as though he were holding a baby that could fall at any moment now, and for all he knew, that could be the case!

"Siebold," he said softly, as if the mere sound of his voice could shatter his gift to pieces. "What's in here?" But one look from Siebold and he knew to just click it open and find out for himself. 

"Okay," he said, just barely audible, moreso to himself than to his partner. His heart was racing and he couldn't explain why; this just seemed like a really big deal to him. And so, taking in one last breath, his index finger pressed down on the Dive Ball's center piece and a small stream of lights poured into the room, bathing them in white as a new Pokemon materialized into the room."

-- "Pip?" 

Roger stared at the Piplup with wide eyes, his jaw having dropped long ago. His heart stopped in sheer joy as he watched the little guy curiously take in his surroundings, it's tiny feet plopping softly over the red carpet. 

"Oh my god," he finally said, cupping his hands over his mouth. He was gonna need a minute now; he couldn't explain why but he was getting so worked up right now. "Siebold, he's adorable... Absolutely adorable."

[rocket-flare]

Cue a Zorua with a package in its mouth. There is also a note tied around its neck:

Merry Rocksmas!

Your Rocksmas stone is: Clinohumite! Fun fact: it’s found in Tajikistan! I couldn’t find Tajikistan on a map. Anyway, I also got you this thing. I don’t know what it’s called but it’s very important.

XOXO,

Roark

"Oooh! It’s beautiful!” He said, his jaw nearly dropping at the sight of the gem. “Pfft! Like I know where that is. Heh. One thing’s for sure, though - I have got to put this rock on a ring. No, wait! A brooch! OOOH, OOH. I COULD PUT IT ON A PENDANT. YEAH, THAT’S WHAT I’LL DO.” BITCHES LOVE PENDANTS.

"As for that other thing…" Before Roger even had a chance to really look at it, Bam-Bam - his Pancham - had already stolen it from his grasp and was using it as a makeshift lightsaber.

"Eh, sure. Why not?" He said, lazily. "Just don’t get too carried awa- OWW!!!" And, sure enough, Bam-Bam had smacked him in the ass. Hard.

"YOU LITTLE FUCKER, GET BACK HERE."

[rocket-flare]

Merry Christmas || Siebold & Roger

[flooded-chambers]

     ”Siebold!!” The announcement of his name pulled his gaze back to the door where Roger now stood. Beaming, infectious, happy to see him. 

Read More

[rocket-flare]

Roger quietly shut the door behind him and turned to face Siebold, his grin actually managing to grow a little bit more as he listened to Siebold’s rambling. It wasn’t typical of him to ramble like that - he was usually so deliberate in the way he spoke - but it was equally as rewarding to see this side of him.

“It is snowing!” He said, a small chuckle riding the end of that phrase.

There was this brief moment of silence as Roger looked to Siebold, simply gazing. ‘Oh, thank Arceus I cleaned.’ From the corner of his eyes, he was glad to see everything in order - his black pinstripe bed comforter had been neatly done, all the red pillow were delicately arranged, even the crimson carpet underneath had been vacuumed. At his work station, the sewing machine was turned off, no loose threads were hanging about, and every pin, seam ripper, and bobbin had been neatly organized on the shelf above. His closet doors had been left open but, even so, showcased how tidy and organized Roger was. All his shoes had been boxed in a shoe wrack, accessories in a separate storage unit, and all suits, shirts, and pants had been hung (and neatly pressed!) in order of color… as one can imagine, there was plenty of red, blacks, and whites. The only thing that looked remotely out of line was the mannequin in the corner; a giant, black cloak was thrown over it. It’s as though Roger had worked hard to make his entire room spotless, save for the mannequin - abandoned!

“Oh my god- !” He said, a little shocked, despite having obviously seen the gift in Siebold’s hands. “You got me something! Aha!” Growing excited, Roger took the gift basket in his hands and quickly began to unwrap it, slowly drawing each individual gift out and opening it over his bed. “”OH MY GOD, PEPPERMINT BARK!” He nearly shouted, his excitement getting the best of him. “I’m definitely gonna get to those later, hehehe.” And so, one by one, Roger went down the line, ooohing and aahing at every possible gift Siebold had. And, as any movie moment would demand it, Roger didn’t get to the small, blue-ribboned box until the very end.

“Oh my god,” he said, dangling the gift by it’s unbelievably elaborate ribbon. “You really outdid yourself, hahaha.” Giggling, Roger reached for the ribboning and gently tugged at it, but nothing happened. Curious. He grabbed for the other loose lace and tried tugging on that one instead, but nothing happened. “Hm.” A little firmer this time, he tried prying his fingers in between the loops and tugging again, but the lace just wouldn’t give.

“Uh, Siebold,” he said, a nervous chuckle to his voice. “I think I’m gonna need some help here.”

[rocket-flare]

Merry Christmas || Siebold & Roger

     Of course it was easier gathering together an assortment of items he believed the red head would like than it was to actually present them to him. He had spent too much time fussing over presentation. Readjusting bows right down to wrapping them anew with different colored paper. And the assortment of sweets— oh yes, there were plenty of those to sift through— were separated neatly in individual plastic laced together with red, green, and white ribbon that draped over the ridiculous patterns that adorned the casing. Declarations that it was indeed Christmas. Snow flakes, snow men, candy canes, trees, and snow flurry designs alike littered the basket they were towed in. It was all he could honestly find and as hard as it was to admit, it was the season. 

     That wasn’t what Siebold was set to fret upon; however. It was the box wrapped in silver and paired with a blue ribbon nestled among all the chocolates and sugar and peppermint and Pokepuffs. Inside that box rest a gift that would either be deemed precious or an impossible nuisance. The water type resting patiently within its dive ball had been an interesting find and had equally reminded Siebold of Roger when he saw it. Proud, able to carry on no matter the obstacle, Piplup sounded like a good fit for him. 

     Perhaps that was why he was lingering before Roger’s door instead of knocking on it. What if he didn’t think so? Never before had he fret so much on a simple 'what if'? Honestly, he had never been met with such a clumsy obstacle. He cared what Roger thought and Siebold knew that he was absolutely terrible at presenting a gift to someone that was more than a showcase piece. This wasn’t some staged event meant to draw smiles from a crowd and to garner approval from it. No bravado, no false words, no false smile. It was genuine. 

     Grant and Valerie had always teased him for it, yet neither were present as he finally straightened his posture and knocked on the blasted door. How much easier this would have been had he left it there to be received with a card. How inconclusive that would have been, he reminded himself as he found himself looking anywhere but the door. Waiting. 

Christmas. Oh, Christmas.

The most wonderful time of the year. A time filled with laughter and joy as you gather 'round your loved ones and sing of good cheer. 

As grand as this holiday was, Roger had to confess that it was never his favorite. He certainly enjoyed all the merriment in the air and there was certainly something to be said when the people around you suddenly seemed so intent on giving and expressing and celebrating. It was somewhat infectious, to say the least,  and Roger couldn't help but respect the holiday for what it represented. But, if we're all being honest here, it wasn't until this year that, for the first time, Roger felt the urge to really celebrate something new in his life.

And so, it was for that special reason alone - that certain someone - that Roger had something to give.

"Siebold!" He said, opening the door. Practically beaming from ear to ear, Roger motioned him to come inside. "Hi! Come on in."

The room was just like any room here at the Rocket HQ dorms, but with that special Roger-Flare touch, of course. Clean, tidy, well-kept. Accents of red and black scattered throughout the room.

"Hi," he said again, this time closing the door behind him. "It's almost Christmas, heh."

[rocket-flare]

"It’s… Christmas?"

"I don't know if I can be seen with this in public."

"... but thank you!"

[rocket-flare]

Who in Team Rocket are you dying to bone?

"Umm… I might have already answered that with the first question I got."

"But, to be fair, I honestly can’t think of anyone else at the moment."