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[His voice is lively and cheerful. He wears a grin as he gestures towards the screen. He's clearly holding it at selfie distance.]

Hello, fellow Heroes of this star! My name is Solus zos Galvus. It is plain to understand why they would employ my assistance in their time of crisis. Terribly inconvenient and inconsiderate of them to borrow me without asking...

[He catches a glimpse of something off screen, and sets the communicator down in a way that he can use it hands free. He spreads his hands out wide and shrugs his shoulders.]

But I can hardly blame them. I am a brilliant engineer, after all! Surely there must be other very talented individuals about.

I had just a short jaunt around town, and I must say that the technology is decent enough here, but I could not help but notice that it is not fully accessible to the common folk. Or should I say... The unpowered masses!

The government must not trust them very much to bar them from using the teleporters... Or, perhaps they simply don't have the capacity. Would it really be so difficult to build or distribute those lovely little nanites they were so keen on giving us?

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[Man, why did Guzma even check the network today? This cheery asshole is about as annoying at that kid he was just talking to. It's like the universe hand-picked some real annoying ass dudes to bring in.]

Yo, if you're so fuckin' brilliant, why don't you do it, huh? Engineer some nanites for the normies, be the hero no one asked for.

Oh, you're a tough looking fellow, aren't you? Keen to put me in my place, are we? Clearly someone called for me to be their hero or else... [He gestures to himself in a very "duh, I'm visible, right" sort of way.]

Oh, that is very much mine intent! Trouble is, I could really use a proper lab. If I've learned anything, tinkering in your night gown usually only leads to disaster.

[He tilts his head, trying to look Guzma in the eye through the camera, daring him to make a joke.]

[That comment actually gets a smirk from him. Damn right he's tough looking, but it ain't just a look!]

Nah, old men ain't my type. But...night gown? Tch, yeah you seem the sort to dress that dumb. Ya talk real dumb, too. Wonder if it's related.

[Like he has any room to...talk.]

Look, they may dress dudes up as heroes, ain't meanin' they are. I ain't no hero, but I'm sure as shit here, ain't I?

Oh dear, it's always so charming when someone with comparatively low intelligence tries to establish some sort of hierarchy. You sound like you can barely read.

[He shrugs as he conjures a mimosa into his hand and takes a sip.]

Well, they're fallible, aren't they? They're bound to make mistakes every now and then. Surely that's your parents' excuse, too.

[Guzma just smirks wider at the shade Emet's throwing his way, not particularly bothered by any of it. If anything, he's actually pretty amused.]

Y'know, you ain't wrong. People do make mistakes, some dudes even make the same mistake every damn day. Take you for example—I'm sure there's mirrors where you came from, yet they ain't helpin' you none with that wack ass style.

[The mimosa trick almost distracts him, but he doesn't comment on it, just keeps going.]

Guess that big brain you're so proud of don't amount to much if it ain't capable of learnin' from its mistake, huh?

Incredible!

[He shakes his head and laughs, clapping theatrically.]

There's no accounting for taste! Step back from the camera, let's see where you're casting your stones from. My garb commands respect. From here, you look like you're not sure what your measurements are.

[A sly smile]

Is that even real gold?

Commands respect? Of who? Your fellow nursin' home residents? Sorry if ya boy ain't too impressed, gramps!

[It's weird, because Guzma is kinda jiving well with this dude, he's...oddly his kinda speed. But to make a point, he leans back in his seat, almost giving Emet more of a crotch shot than a better view of his outfit, but it...does the job. Kinda.

With one hand, he gestures as if presenting himself. He looks real damn smug, too.]

Real 'nough.

[What does that even MEAN?]

Edited 2020-03-08 07:33 (UTC)

Oh, wouldn't you like to know? [He chuckles, tapping his lips with his finger. Thanks for the crotch shot, but it only seals his point.]

Loose clothing to conceal a weapon perhaps? Too bad that's its own tip off. Oh, but what am I saying... Surely your powers are your weapon!

[He scrutinizes the necklace before laughing. He tosses back the mimosa.]

Real enough... like you? You're entertaining, at least. I'll give you that. Most people aren't through no fault of their own.

It's big 'nough to be considered one.

[That isn't what this dude meant, but Guzma will never miss a chance at a dick joke. Never.]

Yeah? Well, for almost havin' both feet in the grave, y'ain't half bad yourself.

Ahh, I see! Well, long layers are also properly concealing. [He steps back and gestures at his own crotch, managing to be less crass about it.]

I can't go around seducing the women and angering the menfolk for no good reason. I'm much too busy for that!

[He laughs and folds his arms.] I have probably fifteen good years and fifteen miserable ones left. [He shrugs with a wild grin on his face.]

You, on the other hand, look like you had to sneak out of school to be here. Are you even old enough to be talking like that, or are you just tall? Hard to tell here, with most of the people so pathetically short.

Yeah, 'til a strong ass gust of wind picks up your skirt and flashes everyone—but maybe that's part of the plan?

[Cool, they're both assholes bragging about their dicks on the network. #Soulmates.]

Guess if you ain't usin' it for what it's for, that's a decent alternative. But ya boy's old 'nough to be talkin' 'bout anything he fuckin' wants, yo.

Ain't been to school in over a decade.

[Which doesn't mean much when...he's from the Pokémon world, or when he looks like the type to drop out once math introduced letters to problems. Guzma tilts his head, that grin still on his face as he rests against his knuckles.]

...Dudes really be fuckin' short here, huh? Bunch'a manlets.

[He had not actually even thought about the fact that the regular people couldn't use such things. He had been so focused on having simple things like running water, and microwaves back in his life he barely took a second glance at things like teleporters and whether they were restricted or not. So, on listening to this cheerful message he can only stare thoughtfully for a time.]

Perhaps there is a reason where the risk to us is acceptable but not to the general public.

[The nanites were probably a clue of some kind...

He didn't really like where his thoughts went with that though....]

It lends it'self to a twist along the lines of "You were never who you thought you were, instead you were a fake all along!" which, to be honest, is overused and just leads to a disappointing ending.

Oh, I wear leggings sometimes. I'm a decent enough man.

[His speech affectation is pretty annoying, but that's okay. Almost as absurd as his own grandson's accent. His vocabulary has some really excellent words in it.]

Manlets! [He barks his laugh, resting his face on his gloved palm. He conjures another mimosa.] Yes, absolutely. [Another wild chuckle]

So, what's your name? Or... whatever you go by.

But only sometimes.

[He quirks an eyebrow to emphasize that point. How 'manlets' sets the man roaring with laughter earns him a chuckle from Guzma. This dude's laugh is a little infectious, and maybe that's...a good thing? Guzma's not sure, but it doesn't matter.

But, with Solus asking for his name, Guzma nods his head upward, in that dudebro wannabe hardass way guys do to acknowledge one another.]

Guzma—the hated boss of Team Skull.

Ah! A good point. We might be a little popular here, but we are very disposable and replaceable. I can think of at least a handful of others that would be better suited to this than I. This is all for their sake, is it not?

[His brows raise. That's a fun and terrible thing to say.]

You think that we're... copies of ourselves? Or simply that that would be just terrible enough to be true?

I wouldn't want to go and start being predictable. That's the first time you truly die.

[mimosa sip]

Team Skull! What are you, pirates? Road bandits? Sorry, I'm trying to be more open-minded.

[He pulls his smile in for a serious delivery.] Librarians?

Edited 2020-03-08 08:31 (UTC)

[Now it's Guzma's turn to let out a hearty laugh.]

Librarians?! Yeah, that's what we are. We're just a big ol' book club, the bling and the skull imagery are just a front.

[He shakes his head, still grinning.]

Nah, we're a gang—but I do know a guy who's kinda like a pirate.

Presentation is very important. So what does your gang do?

[He figures probably after today he'll at least get a few changes of clothes. The fashion here was much plainer. Lazy tailors, perhaps? Besides, it was much warmer here than where he was used to.]

Kind of a pirate? Is he too unskilled to be taken seriously, perhaps?

[There was always someone more suitable. Why was he here? He wasn't a protagonist, he had no particular noteworthy accomplishments, perhaps a veteran of transmigration was a good candidate? He wasn't a hero, and he didn't want to be a villain (even if his body was the scum villain he despised!). There really was no point in questioning it too much.]

I suppose we're like idols in that sense.

[Disposable, yet popular.]

This master only theorizes. We could be copies, we could be not real, we could be reincarnated, without context or perspective, such answers are impossible to gain.

[This could be an elaborate gatcha game even for all he knew. Of course, there weren't nearly enough doubles and triples and quadruples of people for that.]

Deadass.

[That's him agreeing, but it's not like Solus fucking knows that.]

We do what gangs do, yo. Maintain our turf, tell the authorities to fuck themselves, take whatever we want, live 'bout as free as any dudes can.

[Y'know, like thugs.]

But nah, he just ain't got his crew. Hard to be a solo pirate, huh?

[ Good thing he has experience communicating with a wide range of creatures and cultures. He gets the gist even if he’s sure he just said some word he doesn’t know. And not dead ass. ]

Ah, living free is the goal, isn’t it. They provide a stipend or some sort of guaranteed work to us, but I find the trade off fascinatingly terrible. It is such a bad deal dressed up like some once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Perhaps I’m being too harsh. Their means of oppression seem effective.

[ He shrugs. ]

I plan to register, I suppose. You get old enough and you have to start going to the doctor occasionally. The back gives out, the teeth get loose. Truly a disgusting experience.

Edited 2020-03-08 09:33 (UTC)

Tch, ain't gotta tell me about no oppression dude. Seems like I'm the only one who sees it sometimes, these idiots really buy into this crap.

[Guzma waves a little dismissively.]

But if y'know that goin' in, and plan to rip off the system, more power to ya. It's what them suits deserve. I'm sure the dental is worth it.

Idols, eh?

[He hears this in the sense of false gods. Solus considers the last things he remembers before arriving here.]

So what's your point? You sound as if you could use a nap.

[Or is this guy just totally in the clouds.]

Maybe you're a little more clever than I gave you credit for. Bravo, Guzma.

[He says all of this terribly earnestly. It does seem like this guy can't talk without moving his hands. If you tied them together he might stall out. He places a hand to his chest.]

I certainly don't intend to be anyone's pawn. But it is awfully difficult to get anything done with a toothache.

[A guy with a gang. Definitely filing that away. He could be very useful in the future. Fun to have drinks with, at least.]

[Alas Shen Qingqiu meant in the sense of pop idols, but that was fine, pop idols did not align with a cultivator.]

Is that not what we are?

[At the observation he blinks a little and raises a fan to cover the lower half of his face. Did he sound tired? He hadn't done anything worth being tired....]

I was mostly sharing conjectures.

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