butch & cassidy - [DONE]

[Ren]

take what you find and steal them blind
ride on into the night
fade to black and hide
BUTCH&CASSIDY

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[[ it's not illegal if you're not _caught ]]
[[ it's not a lie if it's not _bought ]]

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my parents call me

Hah, I haven't seen my parents in years. The name on my birth certificate is Katsuki Yamato. Sounds funny now.

Huh, I guess that's a tricky one. My "official" name is Koyasu Kosaburo, I s'pose, though no one calls me that any more.

my friends call me

By "friends", I'm assuming you just mean "other people". I'm called Cassidy.

Er, I always go by Butch.

i'm not an it! i'm a...

Wow, being tricky. Female.

Er, male.

i am a...

an elite Team Rocket executive, thank you very much.

member of Team Rocket - I guess that makes me a pokemon trainer...?

i don't need wrinkle cream! i'm...

... only twenty-five. D<

I've just turned twenty-four.

do you think I need a diet?

A diet. Wow. People say that first impressions are the best - or something along those lines - and you certainly aren't making a very good one. Personally I think that I'm pretty; at least more so then Jessie with that freakishly long pink hair. There's no rule that says when you join Team Rocket you have to dye your hair some creepy and unnatural hair color, though apparently that's what everyone does any way. But anyways~.

So I'm pretty tall; just a few inches shorter then Butch. I kinda wish I were shorter and not so... lanky? And apparently my mother was originally from Ireland, so I've got parchment white skin that can never get a tan. Except for this one ugly pinkish birthmark on my left foot. And little freckles going up and down my forearms. Hum, what else. Ch - I'm not going to forget the hair. It hardly stands out next to Butch's or any of the other members' freakishly dyed locks, but my hair is a bright orange - pure natural, I might add - and is kinda curly. It's always frizzy so I always wear it in two low pigtails which go down to about.. shoulder-blade length? I've never measured. o3o So then I've got large green eyes, and... eyebrows? Tch, this is hard. I have a small nose and a tiny mouth, and I've been told I have a "heart-shaped head". Which doesn't entirely make much sense. I have a pointed chin, but I'm not sure beyond that.

Wow, how vague. Okay, overview time. I'm apparently Irish - pale skin except for weird birthmark and crap. I think I'm about... 5'8"? I've got long legs, and flat feet. Apparently I wouldn't be very good in the military. Righto, body type. No clue what my weight is, but I think I'm in the middle of fat and skinny? I wasn't born like some kind of twig, but, crap, with all of the exercises and conditioning that goes on, you'd have to eat a horse every day to even be considered overweight. Not saying that I've ever tried that... but chocolate is pretty good... Anyway, okay. Pointed chin, large green eyes, thin eyebrows. Medium-length orange hair. And I don't mean to brag, but I've got quite a bit going on up top, if you know what I mean.

And right, clothing. It's pretty much a requirement, but the basic Rocket uniform is about as slutty as they come. Except for perhaps Jessie's uniform; I'm not entirely sure what she's trying to show off with that shirt of hers cropped in the center of her chest. How amusingly desperate. So I've got a long sleeved white undershirt, with this short black dress over the top. And long white socks - I do have to admit, the socks are fun. And of course there's that red "R" right on the boobs. And then there's the belt around the waist, black boots, and my set of pink earrings. Don't gripe to me about that - I don't have enough time to go buy another set of earrings. And I've heard that they close up if you take them out.

Um, a diet? I guess I've never really thought about it... I've always been kinda tall and skinny. As a kid I was always one of the taller people who always got shoved into the back for pictures. Yeah, one of those people. But it turns out that I wasn't extremely tall; I had just drunk one too many glasses of milk and hit my peak in seventh or eighth grade. I'm only about 5'10", 5'11". Not even six feet. That had always been my "height goal" when I was a kid. And I am proud to say I'm not one of those "meat-heads", even with all of the conditioning we get lathered with.

So I guess you could say I don't have a natural skill for building muscle. I'm not very strong and can't run for very long. Whoops, but I'm kind of getting off topic. That happens a lot. I've also got really pale skin with absolutely no freckles or anything what-so-ever. And really light arm and leg hair - I used to think I was an albino, until my mom told me that albinos don't usually have colored hair or eyes. And I'm doing it again. I hate talking for long periods of time; I always run out of things to say. Uh, okay. Me and Cassidy have almost the same face shape. I've got a really weird pointed chin and high cheekbones... I've been told I have a "baby face", if that makes sense?

But right, I can't forget about the hair. Everyone always comes up and asks me if it's natural. No, I was not some radiation baby that was born with teal-colored hair. And brown eyebrows. Dying eyebrows is weird. So if you look closely - or not so closely; I guess it's pretty obvious - my eyebrows are a dark brown, while my hair is teal. So the answer is yes, I dyed my hair. I guess I just felt like it. Everyone has brown hair. I bet you've never seen a guy with teal-colored hair before, right? See, I told you. But anyway, it's pretty shaggy considering I loathe haircuts. I have bangs and overall a... "fluffy?" head of hair. I always get nagged because apparently it's really soft. I have to use gel to tame it down, though, which gets annoying. Oh right - eyes. My eyes are almost the same color as my natural hair, just a dark brown. Nothing really interesting there.

Uh, okay, what else. I don't really wear any jewelry, and my clothes are usually just the rocket uniform. They don't shove us into slutty miniskirts like the women. Sometimes I'm not sure how Cassidy walks. But at least we get to wear a white undershirt with a black shirt with that red "R" on the front, as well as black pants, and a white belt and gloves. And these space-looking white boots with red stripes on the top. I can't really say I'm fond of those, but I'm afraid if I complain I'll land with that spandex suit that Cassidy has to wear. It's kinda funny to try and watch her bend over without flashing anyone. Shoot, off topic again.

my emotional disposition?

[[ This shall have to be done in third person, since anything that comes from Cassidy's mouth would be inaccurate. ]]

Though their relationship is technically a "partnership", Cassidy is obviously the unofficial leader. Aggressive, demanding, ambitious, and strikingly intelligent, her outgoing demeanor counters Butch's submissive one perfectly. In their ploys, it is typically Cassidy who takes charge and wins people over via acting or feminine charm, leaving Butch to stand in the background and attempt to disguise his fairly noticeable hair. And obviously, it cannot be overlooked that Cassidy is a natural leader. Or perhaps that is too strong of a word. She craves to be in charge, and will shove her way to the top or snub anyone who gets in her way. But unfortunately, she is a very proud person. She will blatantly reject any outright help from anyone and takes it personally - as if it's a suggestion that she isn't good enough. Butch only gets in his two cents by very sneakily giving lazy hints, letting her pick them up and be the heroine all she wants.

She's a "do-it-herself" kind of person, and her strong reasoning and coy plans hardly ever have any gaps for others to try and fill in. Her only fault in this is that, like her rival Jessie, she can be much of a hothead. So concerned with her reputation she gets distressed under pressure and thus has to lean back and rely on the earth-bound support of her comrade. She is also quick to act in an offensive behavior when things don't go entirely to plan. All for the sake of pride, she doesn't run away. She is not to be put down without a fight and summons weapons - either of the pocket monster or machine variety - at the drop of a hat. "Stealth" is not in her vocabulary and if a building gets burnt to the floor in her defense, so then screw it. She will go to drastic measures when the tables are turned, as failure surely means certain shame.

So though I've told you that Cassidy is loathe to follow anyone else's orders, she is surprisingly obedient when faced with her superiors. She isn't dumb - she knows what has to be done to get to the top. Let me clarify. Cassidy hates following orders of anyone at her level or below her. She is known to be a horrible suck-up, doing extra favors and always following orders to get in on the "important peoples'" good sides. And in this world that all works, considering how Cassidy and Butch are elite Rocket members and one of the Boss' favorite teams. However, it is doubted that she actually truly respects Giovanni, let alone Professor Namba. Well... as themselves, she doesn't. She holds little respect for Professor Namba and carries out his whims merely because of his position, and is shown acting rudely when faced with a decision of his she doesn't like, or if he merely provokes her. And the same for Giovanni. Though it is true that she respects him more then the professor, she merely has respect for his position and ideas, rather then his person. The ideal of power intrigued her and straightaway made her cling to his commands.

So why is Cassidy in Team Rocket? In the anime, she earns little screen time and we hardly learn of her background. The orange-haired Rocket could be described in the word "power-hungry". As a contrast to Butch, she isn't doing this for any personal reasons. Perhaps even subconsciously, Cassidy craves power over others. Though I'll write more on this in the "history" section, she grew up in as one of three children, being right smack-dab in the middle. Typically ignored by her over-bearing parents, she experienced little freedom in her life and only could exercise that right once she dropped out of high school to start her "pokemon journey" crap. The criticism of her parents had an effect on her self-esteem - which is directly connecting to her pride issue - and she was determined to no longer be the forgotten middle child. Intrigued by the prospect of Team Rocket, she joined, receiving a Houndour and bringing along her first pokemon: a Rattata.

So we've got coy, dominant, power-hungry... ah, okay. Cassidy is also an arrogant and confident person. She is proud. She believes that she is an awesome trainer and incredibly intelligent. She tries to bring up her self-esteem by convincing herself nothing can fail and always checking that list twice. Though a lot of it is just an act. When around others she tries to pose as some incredibly confident person, though secretly confides doubts to her partner. She does her best to not point out any weaknesses in her personality and always tries to appear strong and untouchable to onlookers. Which is rather hypocritical, because she does that same thing she fears other people shall do to her.

Cassidy judges people - by their appearance, by their style, but their voice. Right away when she meets someone she has already set down who they are, which usually isn't a positive thing. Her first impressions of her partner including notes of his strange voice, bright hair, smoking habits, and submissive attitude that she pretook as stupid. If she had had her way, she would have never been paired with the poor teal-haired man, but alas, she did not. And of course once being stuck together with someone for so long you come under the realization that those stereotypes don't really affect them as a person. Though she's never quite learned that sort of question, and this is the reason why she doesn't have very many friends. She also is quite blunt, but out of choice rather then nature. Insulting others makes herself feel higher and more superior.

And to counter his lovely partner, Butch is the unofficial follower of the group. Which is what makes them such an incredible team - the teal-haired man would hate to be in charge. He is content with following orders, and never protests under Cassidy's wild rules. And so while she is coy and manipulative, he has more of a "true" intelligent - mathematical and all that. Adding to their relationship, Butch can analyze Cassidy is ways no one else can. Perhaps it comes from being around her so long that he can predict her reactions, but he knows exactly what to say and do to avoid her temper flare.

Just going to stick this in there. Unlike the "anime Butch", these two have a less equal and even relationship, and while Cassidy doesn't berate Butch as much as others, he's hardly safe from her range of fire. She certainly doesn't view them as equals, and makes it very clear that she is the leader and he is the follower. When first encountering the pair, one could mistake the tealnette for some sort of henchman. He's very quiet, especially when around his partner. He has no problem with Cassidy taking the leading role and actually prefers it to be that way. Oddly enough he is a very "go with the flow" sort of person, and is just content to do whatever she wants. However, he does have limitations. Butch has more of a conscience as well as more intact view of common sense. Altering Cassidy's plans would mean certain decapitation, and while Butch does frequently poke holes in her plans, the red head typically discards them and later "thinks of them herself".

Shoot, but let me get into Butch more as a person. He is hardly as ambitious as Cassidy. His reasons for joining Team Rocket differ in so many ways from hers'. He is laid-back and quiet, and is surprisingly thoughtful. He appreciates beauty, and loves to just ponder. He is more of the strong and silent type and without any prior knowledge could be mistaken as a grunt with wildly colored hair. Though he doesn't show Cassidy's spark for holding a gun and watching people go submissive in front of her, her also does carry through orders without a second thought. Being in Rocket, of course, isn't the greatest sign of civil morality, but Butch is about as "human" as villains get. More down to earth than his partner, he's the type of person that would give a little kid his ice cream cone if theirs fell on the ground.

So why in the world would he be a part of Team Rocket? And tada, I shall answer that for you. Despite his intelligence and rationality, Butch is a rather lost person. His entire life he's never really found a nitch, and was always just average at everything. He never was athletic or obviously intelligent or artistic or popular or anything like that. And when you're born as a follower rather than a leader, being forced to exercise your non-existent independence doesn't really work out. Team Rocket could have been a florist shop and Butch still would have signed on up. In all reality, he was looking for a place of acceptance and - as cheesy as this sounds - a "meaning for life". The past few years he's just floated around from job to job and has never really found anything that wasn't pointless and that he was passionate about.

But shooting people up and stealing pokemon is hardly up his typical alley. And while Cassidy loves being in control - thus why she gets to do all of the "lulz i have a gun" things - he just follows in her footsteps. Mostly because he isn't doing all of this out of pleasure, but more or less because he's searching for some importance. For some self-worth. Just to accomplish something. But as I've mentioned, he's not a very ambitious or fool-hardy person. So he prefers to just bob around and obey orders and wait for the purpose of life to come and perch in his lap. So far, it hasn't gone so well, so he'll just keep doing what he's doing.

Strangely enough, Butch is also kind of a cold person. He doesn't really like strangers, and isn't a "huggy-feely" sort of person. He prefers to keep his distance from others, and never really connects with other people. He's not very empathetic, I guess you could say. Not because he doesn't try - he just doesn't get other people. His laid-back attitude combined with his social awkwardness makes him give off this cold and vicious vibe, when in all reality he's just uncaring and clueless. But though it should seem like opposite, he's much more sure of himself than Cassidy is. While she will take jabs at her pride personally and attack back, he's been prodded at so many times that insults don't really get to him. After all, it's one man's opinion. Not to say that insults don't offend him; Butch is much better at holding grudges than Cassidy. While she judges people right off the bat, Butch gives them a chance at first but very quickly will dislike any flaws he sees in them. One simple social mistake on their part will turn him off, and he'll simple discard them as a person.

So I guess I'll use this final paragraph to describe their relationship. I am absolutely in no way a Neoshipper. Personally I hate that pairing, and it wouldn't work out between the two personalities I have for them here. Butch and Cassidy are the most unlikely friends. Butch's appearance is a turn-off for her, and Cassidy has so many quirks that annoy him. If not slammed together, the two would have probably never hit it off. Ever. But fortunately they did. So obvious Cassidy has the unspoken authority between the two. It's that sort of agreement and - perhaps she does it subconsciously - she always takes command and expects him to follow. And first glance, the two communicate only on a professional level. They usually don't talk about anything besides work, they are typically respective to each other in front of others, and yet make such snide comments about the other that count never exist in a friendship. But - because I'm tired of typing - the bottom line is that behind the bitching and the snide comments, they actually do care about each other. Awww how cheesy~.

i like to...

Win.
Wow, this one is pretty dumb. I don't know who the hell likes to loose.

Sunbathe.
So much nicer than the rain.

Travel.
Staying in one spot is awful - I love it when we get to move around the region.

Play Tetris.
Favorite game on cell phone.

Fly.
In a helicopter, plane, pokemon, hang gliding, whatever.

Sleep In.
Getting up at six AM is a bitch. D:

Cause General Chaos / Rob Shit.
That's just plain fun.

Be in the Snow
It snowed a lot where I grow up - I don't understand how some people go their whole life without ever living in snow. In my opinion, the weather should either be sunny or snowy. None of this rain in between.

Watch Cheesy Romantic Movies
Hah, so much fun to laugh at. Ever seen "The Notebook"? Priceless.

Eat Chocolate Chips
My guilt food - is that what they're called? Anyway, awesome to snack on.

Listen to Music.
Er, I guess it's calming? I can't say I'm fond of "rap" or "heavy metal" or anything of that. If I wanted to listen to people screaming, I'd just walk outside.

Draw.
I can't say I'm very good at it, but I enjoy doodling...

Smoke.
This is kind of embarrassing, but I guess it's my past time. Whenever I'm bored, I just... light up a cigarette. Or angry. Or sad. Or surprised. Or happy. Or tired.

Stay up Late.
I just prefer the night to the day. I can never fall asleep because eleven o'clock, anyway.

Go Walking.
It's fun to take a stroll down the beach without random little twelve year olds yelling at you and attempting to beat you senseless with electric rodents.

Cook.
So this is kind of a secret, but I love cooking. Not in that cereal or peanut butter and jelly making way. I just like throwing stuff together and making things.

Watch Musicals
I... have a fetish for musicals. Not like "High School Musical" - that doesn't even count. But like, Broadway musicals. Y'know? Right...?

Eat Grapes
It's fun to peel the outside and then eat the naked grape. ... That's not weird, right?

Go to Fancy Places.
I hate fast food restaurants. They just smell weird and everything is greasy. I love fancy restaurants. And wine - that's good. Hate beer and liquor. Tastes awful. Like swallowing vinegar. Disgusting.

but... i'm afraid!

Afraid? That's a strong word. I'm not "afraid" of anything. There are some things that I find less enjoyable then others... hm.

Losing.
When the tables are turned and the other person gets to eye you with that look of smug satisfaction and there's nothing you can freaking do about it.

Spiders/Insects.
I've never bothered to count how many eyes they have, but let me tell you, it's about thirty too many. And they move odd and don't bleed normally and... let's just leave it at they're strange.

Death.
And who isn't afraid of dying? C'mon, it doesn't sound like very much fun. Haven't you ever wondered what happens to you after you die? Do you just... rot? Or is that heaven and hell stuff real?

Being Kicked off Team Rocket.
I would have no idea where I would go if I got kicked off. And plus, the humiliation would be awful. However, there is a very tiny chance of this ever coming true.

Little Kids.
So you've got a little parasite in your stomach for nine months making you puke and be crabby. Then you give birth in a painful and bloody manner to a naked mole rat. And then they get bigger, and scream and cry. Oh yes, being a parent sounds like such a miracle.

Breaking Bones/Being in Severe Pain.
I just... don't like pain? I've never broken a bone yet. Besides, blood is pretty damn disgusting. Especially when it's yours.

Family.
My family can go to hell. They're a bunch of idiots, and if I ever see them again it'll be too soon.

Jessie Succeeding.
If that snotty brat weasels her way up onto the A-list...

The Dark.
I prefer it when I can actually see things outside. There's so many possibilities of things to be creeping around during night.

The Downfall of Team Rocket.
See the "getting kicked off of team rocket" answer.

Ehh, okay. I'm not fond of a lot of things. Which I always have to explain every time we go swimming or the vacuum cleaner gets turned on or there's a thunderstorm. So much fun.

Deep Water.
I almost drowned when I was... five? I fell into the backyard pool and hit my head on the rim. And then I panicked and couldn't get out so my parents had to come rescue me. Call it stupid, but as long as I don't get within several feet of water, it'll never happen again.

Scolding.
People berating is kind of... annoying? Not to mention demeaning. Though after five years I really should be use to it.

Loud/Annoying Noises.
I just... don't like loud noises. Screaming, the vacuum cleaner, gun shots, crowds of people. It's all overwhelming.

Felines.
There's something about cats that are creepy. Our neighbors use to have this awful Meowth - supposedly it was time, but would always hiss and skulk around in the middle of the night and bite people.

Forced to be a Leader.
I'm not very good at telling people what to do - and quite frankly, wouldn't really know how to if I ever got the chance.

Being Arrested.
Jail is where all of the scary criminals go. The huge guys with tattoos and smashed up faces who always do drugs and punch people.

Getting a New Partner.
Yeah, yeah, okay. So Cassidy has her downs - and a lot of them, mind you - but she's just so familiar that it would be weird and scary to ever switch partners now. Somehow I don't think anyone else would put up with me... though shouldn't that really be vice versa?

Closed Spaces.
Especially noisy closed spaces. I get nervous in tight areas. With lots of people. And noise.

Thunderstorms.
Goes with the noise thing. Somehow I always thing that it's going to strike where ever I am, no matter how far away it is. I don't really see the beauty behind the terrifying bolt of lightning that destroys houses and starts fire. Those "storm chaser" guys are idiots.

The Downfall of Team Rocket.
I guess I wouldn't really know what to do. It's awfully hard to not recognize the "team-haired rocket guy". And after working so hard and getting this far, it'd just be like... starting over.

my reason?

My reason for what? Being in Team Rocket? Haha, that's a funny question. Do you want a serious answer, or a believable one? Genuinely, I'd have to say it's fun. Call me a sadist, but kicking down a door and watching someone's face go pale with terror is... fun? Shit, you're making me sound like an idiot. I can't explain it. For once in my laugh it's a damn lot of fun to finally be better and have more power than someone else. There's the word. Power. Finally I'm not crammed between the idiotic older brother and the little baby. At least now I'm getting noticed, even if it involves waving a gun around.

Er, okay. I can't really summarize this into one word, or even a sentence without sounding cheesy. And sometimes I'm not sure why I'm even doing this, surrounded by a bunch of people who think it's their purpose in life to torture and kill others. But... for once I'm just part of a group. One of the masses. I've gone my entire life wanting to be labeled, and now I've wearing a bright red R. And I've always wanted to accomplish something. But sometimes it just seems that what I'm accomplishing really is just undoing what other people have done.

mandatory angst

Mandatory angst, how clever. Emphasis on the angst - isn't that dramatic. So then, where to start. I'm assuming we're talking about the days before Team Rocket. I was born in the wonderful Celadon City - that huge town surrounded by trees. My brother was three years older than me, and when I was two, they had another son. And so I was the only girl, and being the middle child was always the icing on the cake. My older brother was... is perfect a bad word to use? Maybe nerdy would fit better. He always was studying, got good grades, and somehow was easy-going and popular and always made my idiot parents proud. And my younger brother was a fucking spaz. Always running around, trying new things, outgoing, yadda yadda. And somehow he always got off the hook in that "what are you going to do" sort of way.

And since my mom always wanted a girl, she decided that it was her duty to lead me through life by the hand. She had be do ballet when I was a kid, always dressing me, whisking me off to music practices. I never did any sports. She tried to get me to draw. And - lo and behold - I despised dancing, could barely draw a stick figure, and had no talent for the violin. So I grew up pretty much being awful at everything. Such a wonderful joy. And then high school rolled around and I wasn't allowed to go to parties, or drive, or anything else that was remotely extra-curricular. It was always something along the lines of why I couldn't be more like my older brother.

And so, deciding that school had no educational value, I decided to drop out in the middle of my sophomore year. So let's get one thing straight: I've never liked pokemon. They were animals - little things with fur that snarled. But perhaps it was because it was what everyone else was doing or it just gave me an excuse to bust out of there, but I popped by the professor's lab, gave him a little bullshit about how I cared for pokemon and crap, and picked up my Rattata and was out of there.

And I mean literally. So the rest of that in there gets boring besides for my chucking my cell phone into the ocean to elude my parents, my morally questionable ways to earn money, my Rattata evolving into a Raticate, and of course running into Team Rocket. So I was in the bank, trying to see if they'd give me a loan because at the time I had rented some little townhouse. And what do you know; it's a little bit more difficult to earn $600 then it sounds. So these men in black come busting through the door with guns and bat-like pokemon and demand that everyone hit the floor. And they made out with this huge sum of money. When someone comes in and everyone listens - and they make off with well more then six hundred bucks - you can't help but be a tad bit curious. So I asked around, and tada, discovered Team Rocket.

So it turns out you aren't allowed to just waltz through the door and snag a uniform. Evidently they have these "top secret tryouts", which really is just like getting into some kind of sorority since it involves stealing from small shops, taking kids' pokemon, and so on. And apparently everyone works in pairs. They just smack you together with the next person that tried out, and somehow I got stuck with this teal-haired lazy smoker. Which at first was rather annoying, but after we got our little "initiation pokemon" - since apparently the stoner as well as many other people don't already come with any - we were set off to go rob this toy shop. A freaking toy shop.

But that was taking toys from a baby - har, literally - especially whisking in their with guns. And it was wonderfully marvelous, considering it was all my idea and the guy just did everything I told him to. After snagging nearly three hundred bucks, we fled the store. And everything would have worked out if it hadn't been for the security cameras - which mister stoner said he mentioned, but I sure as hell didn't hear him - that kinda caught us on tape. And the fact that the man called the police afterwards. Which was completely the guy's fault - I wanted to shoot the shopkeeper, but teal-head gave a reply that was something like "Yeahhh, I don't think so". I could have totally done it, too.

So long story short, the freaking police caught us, but with my cunning skill and the smoker's wonderful listening abilities, we were able to defeat the stupid police officers and haul our asses out of there. But unfortunately the money in the vehicle had to be left behind. Which I took as a rejection, but apparently they were impressed at our partnership - total bullshit - and recruited the two of us anyway. As a pair. Which at first was absolutely horrible, but once you get past the smoking and the hair and the weird attitude, he's not that bad. I still would have been better working by myself.

And right - the two name thing. While my real name is Yamato, apparently most agents have a sort of "undercover" name so your identity doesn't become obvious and it is harder to trace you. I guess they just pick random names, because I became Cassidy, and "smoker" became Butch. And even after crawling up the totem pole and becoming "A-ranked", I still have no freaking idea what his real name is.

Er, alright. I don't think "angst" is the right word for it but then again, if it wasn't very "angsty" then I guess I wouldn't be strutting around with a big red "R" on my chest would I? I was born in Lavender Town - don't know if you've ever been there, but it's kind of.. depressing. There's no real bright colors and pretty much every building is built from brick or stone. And then to be the icing on the cake our biggest "tourist attraction" is this huge graveyard. Because it's pretty much one of the only - or the most famous - graveyard that accepts dead pokemon bodies as well as human bodies. And I never would have believed it, but some people are eerily attached to their pokemon. Of course now I sound hypocritical, but back then it was really creepy to watch old ladies come and sob over their decaying pet's grave every day.

So I am an only child, and my dad had some big important job and my mom was a social butterfly. Social butterfly could have easily been a metaphor for "likes to get it on with everyone", because when I was six my mom had a fling and my parents got divorced. My mom describes the whole "fling" part differently, but that's the short and long of it. So my dad worked every day and even when I was a teenager would still call me "sport" and buy me crayons and whatever, and my mom always seemed... out of it? Me and her new boyfriend never hit it off and their relationship was rocky. They got engaged, then broke it off, then got engaged again. They got married when I was ten, and I was always bouncing back and forth between houses. By then my dad had moved to Saffron City, which wasn't too bad of a commute.

So I was a good little kid and went to school until the end of high school, when I graduated. Somewhere in there I picked up smoking. I can't really remember how- I think one of my friends did it? But then it just became a stress relief. And I decided to skip out on college for some reason. I told my parents I was just going to take a break from school and look around. So when I was eighteen, I hit the road. So I'd been bobbing around for about a... year? Yeah, that's about right. Maybe a little more, considering I officially joined Team Rocket when I was nineteen. Five years ago, holy cow.

So this is so weird talking about now. But I'd eventually caught word of Team Rocket through the locals. And... I dunno, I guess I just found them interesting. Like they had this weird allure to them. Like they were special, unique. And after I heard about them, they just seemed to be popping up everywhere. And I talked to one of the grunts, and... they told me how to join and crud. I guess I can't really say why I tried to join. Maybe one too many cigarettes - that made no sense - but I guess at that moment I felt like I was going nowhere. It was like my midlife crisis. And I knew that it wasn't really a team of justice, but... okay, I guess I can't explain it. Let's just skip to the next section.

To get on the team, they have to make sure you're not a total idiot. So first you get this trial pokemon, and I got stuck with this evil grey dog. And they gave it to me and told me it was a Poochyena. I'd never even had a pokemon before, so they had to go over all of its "attacks" with me. And the thing was snarling and frothing which made me wonder if they had been abusing it or something. And then came the worst part. We had to be put into pairs. So I met my new partner about an hour or two best our little initiation test drive. And I snicker about this now, but back then, I swore she was some kind of psychopath. So when I saw her she was just sitting there all innocent-like and I - get this - actually thought she was kind of pretty and assumed this wouldn't be that bad. But then she spoke. Not really spoke. More like nagged. Nagged about my hair - it had been dyed at that point - and nagged about me smoking and immediately shoved me out of the way.

I had never been very good at "group projects", but at least back in high school my partners hadn't been handed guns. A freaking gun. Apparently it was a gag and they didn't even put freaking bullets in it, but it still scared me shitless. So our little trial was to go hit up this store. And the red haired girl was so gung-ho that it was almost frightening. So she was muttering a plan to herself and I just did my best to stay out of the way. I guess their plan worked well. If you succeeded and didn't get caught, you were in. It you lost, then you were stuck in jail. So hah.

But anyway. So we pop on into that toy store and my "partner" pretty much goes nuts. I started wondering if she had just been released from a mental institution or if having a gun in her hand made her become some irrational sadist. She practically kicked the door down and totally disregarded my idea to actually formulate a plan first. The security cameras, other costumers, getting the cash register open. She totally blew that all off. Though apparently no one robs a toy store much, since the owner just freaked and immediately gave us everything on hand. If a psychotic red haired girl marched up to me waving around a gun and demanded money, I sure as hell would have handed it over, too. And so did he, and we got about three hundred bucks. And then we high-tailed it out of there.

I don't know if you've ever been in a car chase, but it's a huge adrenaline rush. At that point I was so freaked out as the woman drove like a madman down the road. I was wondering if they were going to call the police and she told me to shut up - that they wouldn't, and that we had already gotten away and how easy it was. And tada, they had called the police. And gotten down the license plate number. So the police were suddenly on our tails. And I suggested pulling over but she gave me some kind of "fuck you" expression and sped off. Until they cornered us and we tried to make a break for it. But their stupid little dogs and guns whatever else they had cut us off. So we duked it out for a while with my insane canine and apparently she had one too. And eventually we were able to get away by holding someone had gunpoint, but had to leave the money behind.

What a great day. I had become a criminal - an unsuccessful one at that - and made a total fool of my self. And met perhaps the bitchiest woman on the face of the planet. And had nearly been shot and chewed to death by dogs. And on top of all of that, we got in. They mentioned something about "team work". That we worked together well. And man, they must have been down on members, because there was no way that anyone could ever think that we worked well together. It was only about four months later that I didn't almost wet my pants every time Cassidy busted into my room. But I guess they had good foresight, since nowadays we can bust into a toy store and make off with three hundred bucks. And she always remembers to shoot the security cameras, and subtly cover up the license plate on our truck.

And right, I guess I should mention the name thing, also. So since they don't want anyone tracking us down or giving anyone else away, we get a secret little "code name". Which is kind of fun. Took forever to get use to. After nineteen years of being called "Kosaburo", I suddenly had to switch to "Butch". Nearly retched at that name, but now it seems so natural that if anyone called me Kosaburo I'd probably have no idea who they're talking to. And I have no idea what Cassidy's real name is, either. When ever we talk about non-Rocket things, it's always me doing the speaking. She hardly ever says anything about who she is. I know she has two brothers and she hates her family, but that's pretty much it.

i'm just a proxy for...

Ren. ;D

here's some of their writing!

Hotdogs. Oh yes, he had heard the rumors. Spare meat parts, insects, and whatever other crap was on the butcher’s floor all rolled into a one convenient slab and stuck between stale bread. And as he stared at the red and white container – it seemed vaguely familiar, looking like one of those things with the fish in it they give you at the zoo to chuck to seels – with the limp hot dog inside, his groaning stomach again forced his brain to give him the speech on why they couldn’t eat at nicer places. It wasn’t the money issue. Via his companion’s exploitation, he had seen their pink and purple haired comrades practically licking crumbs off the ground. But as for them... perhaps we should just leave it at they were the blue blood of the team. Between Doctor Namba and the Boss’ combined funding, they really could have eaten at anywhere they liked.

But no – too crowded, they would be too noticeable, yadda yadda. The man’s eyes flitted up to the face of the woman across him, a “do you really expect me to eat this shit” look stretched across his face. And somehow in his brain he had deciphered exactly why they never ate at fancy restaurants. It was like that one experience – where she had for once pried her hair out of those two pigtails and wore a skirt and flashed that feminine side he hardly ever saw. And it started out as just snide looks to his dyed hair and the subtle implications that they were couple. Which he found to be somewhat amusing, and he had to admit – a man waltzing into a fancy restaurant with bright teal hair was somewhat giggle-worthy. But somehow have a candlelit dinner was odd and awkward and it didn’t help when he accidentally tipped over his drink onto the carpet and she yelled and he made some comment about “well there go my plans for tonight” which of course she couldn’t take as a joke.

Either way, fancy restaurants were a nix. And one would think it should have been reversed, but it happened that Cassidy was the one to suck it up, and Butch was the one to wish that he had kept his hair brown and sat at a different table so they could still have the pleasure of eating edible foods. And c’mon, like they didn’t stick out any more or any less along the stone patio with the fast food shops lined up behind them and in front stairs leading down to the damp beach sand and the waves rolling in to screaming children. And of course with that huge red and white umbrella branching up from their metal table. And metal uncomfortable chairs, now that he thought about it.

He reached out like a sullen child, shoving away the basket mutely just to prove his point. The orange-haired woman had been pretending to not notice his finicky – and quite immature, if she did say so herself – behavior could now not ignore the blatant rejection of the food she had paid five-ninety-nine for. When she got upset, it was like a time bomb. He could glance at her face and tell when the ticking started and as certain muscles twitching or her glare deepened he could approximate when it would burst. He didn’t even know why she bothered to play mind games. She could have just told him to eat the fucking hot dog. But that would be too simple, wouldn’t it?

“Not hungry any more?”

She retorted, that dry tone reverberating through her voice. Her change of attitude from when she was with someone else and with him was almost astounding. Always acting so cocky, so arrogant when around others – he had always wondered if that was just a show. From the hotdog up to her his eyes flitting, observing her posture. Cynical, her back arched against the spine of the chair with one leg crossed over the other with and arm over those. Her other hand bent to the arm of the chair then limply up to her mouth, the popsicle stick dripping blue held loosely in her fingers.

He wasn’t stupid enough to argue. He had given up long ago trying to find an off-switch to that bomb, and trying to find a hiding spot seemed to just make it worse. And she had that horrible ability of being able to lift one eyebrow – he’d tried it before, could never do it – which she did now, watching him under suspicion.

“No.”

His voice was charred, a deep and husky sort of croak. The woman’s other orange eyebrow rose – not at the oddity of his voice, she had adjusted to that a while back – but his offensive behavior. And he purposely turned, tilting his body towards the beach and watching the kids squabbling on the sand rather then the ticking time bomb eyeing his weak portions.

He knew how to poke the clock, to make it skip a few numbers. Which normally he wasn’t inclined to do, but today he was starving and irritable from the clawing hunger, and perhaps not thinking straight – or perhaps just not caring. Either way, he did the one thing that could provoke the women to leap over the table like a cobra and strangle him with her manicured hands. He, slowly, stoically, reached for a pocket of his jeans. It was one of those pleasant days where uniform was not required. He found it amusing how Jessie and James wandered around in the uniform always – with all of Cassidy’s prodding, it was becoming a sport for him to tease them, too – but he had always assumed that they only owned one set of clothes because they hadn’t the money to buy anything else. He had was content in a pair of jeans and a shirt, his comrade dressed in shorts and a dark tank top, her curly orange hair pulled into two low ponytails like usual.

But anyway. He had reached for his pocket, his fingers daintily slipping inside. Muscle memory was a fantastic thing; without thinking he could slide open the lid of that pouch and pull out a single cylinder – a single wasn’t enough, but it was a good start – and grab the lighter next to it. Her skeletal eyes followed the objects as he unknowingly taunting her, holding the cigarette while he fumbled with the lighter, purposely ignoring her vicious glare.

“Butch, there’s kids here.”

She shot flatly, her voice lingering on the lines of tension. In a mock the man’s head lifted a little, dramatically looking around the emptiness surrounding them, then letting his gaze flit over to the children yards away playing on the beach. The logic was overwhelming; these were far away, there were no “no smoking” signs, and he knew Cassidy didn’t give a shit about little children. But this happened every time. It was the one thing that could make his partner fly off the handle. Her deep hatred for smoking sparked up conflict every time she saw a cigarette: whether it was in his hand or not.

And at a certain point he had to find it funny, her prattling. She would start off good, grumbling about lung cancer and second-hand smoke. And then she would get on a roll and launch into something about global warming and polar bears dying and then causing brain cells to die and resulting in all smokers being dumbass vegetables. And at this point he had used his little invisible remote control and tuned her out and she would notice and pointedly glare before snapping the little cancer stick straight from his lips, smushing it against his shoulder, then chucking it into the bushes. And then he would make some comment about how littering causes global warming, and she would flame up at the attack and stalk off.

Their relationship was positively wonderful.

But without the sarcasm, in some way, he had to admit it was. During the initiation he recalled that they had failed, but the Boss – with a capital “B”, notice – had claimed that they had worked well together and were accepted. Which was bullshit, at the time at least. And both of them knew it. Cassidy had taken charge and Butch merely followed, and perhaps her overloaded need for power and command had been their ultimate downfall. And at the time he had scoffed, amused at how this new man thought him and the bitchy redhead worked “well together”. And strangely, as he looked back on that, he had to admit that somehow they did.

“Why the hell do you smoke, anyway?”

His brown eyebrows arched in surprise; this was a new take. He glanced to the woman and she looked positively feral, glowering at him with a typical look of contempt and flared nostrils. That had set him back a little – he had to think for a second. Why did he smoke? Silent, he traced the origins. It had been years, god, he had started in school. At first it had been a stress-relief, and then – though he wouldn’t saw it out loud – it had developed into an addiction. When he was first convinced to smoke he would remind himself that he wasn’t addicted and could stop any time by setting little mile points. “If I were addicted, then I wouldn’t be able to go a day without smoking”, “If I were addicted, obviously I would be able to tell”, “If I were addicted, then I’d constantly be buying cigarettes”. And he would deny it if said to his face, when it was obvious. He always needed to be doing something with his hands and his stomach would quake and his head would burn until he succumbed and lit up that little white stick.

“I ‘unno. Something to do.”

He muttered, and as soon as the words popped from his mouth he wished he could suck them back in. He sounded like such a stoner. An idiot. His thumb flipped the lighter open and gently lit flame to the end of the cigarette, Cassidy’s eyes tracing the object as he groped it between his lips and two fingers. And obviously she didn’t accept that answer and watched him with those beady green eyes of hers. He wasn’t sure if the true high school addict story would grant him a better reaction. He was careful when he told emotionally sensitive stories of his pre-Rocket life. There was a time, and then there wasn’t a time. There was a time when she would sympathize, and there was a time when she would tell him to suck it up. Somehow he felt it was the latter.

He could feel the giant mass at his feet shift a tad from slumber, sensing conflict above. The canine lay poised underneath his chair, leaning against two of the legs and his head slumped on his paws. The Mightyena looked surprisingly tame – it always amused him when kids would bounce up and asked to pet either of the demonic looking dogs. The other – belonging to none other then Cassidy, of course – lay underneath her side of the table, curled around the center pole with its hind legs and tail partway underneath her chair. The creature didn’t even bother to glance up; it was probably use to her mistress’ outbursts by now. Butch knew he certainly was.

It was odd that they went most places with each dog out and about. He wasn’t sure about Cassidy’s reasoning, considering she liked to sic that horned mutt on any person posing a threat – he had to object to her commanding it to go frighten away little children. It always brought a smirk to his face imagining the redhead as a mother. But prior to his little “villainous” – he preferred not to think of it like that – career, he had never owned a pokemon and for the most part steered clear of them. But there was some comfort to the shaggy grey dog, wary and snarly of everyone else, but close and attached to him. It was an interesting feeling to be liked – even if the other person couldn’t talk.

He removed the cigarette from his mouth, allowing smoke to drain through his lips. The silence was irritating and through the cloud of smog he could see Cassidy still glaring him down. Relentless, wasn’t she? Was she waiting for something? An appropriate answer to her question? It was a good question, but sometimes people ask questions not really wanting or caring about the answer. It was just means to an end: somehow he would get the whole dead brain cell and global warming speech all over again, no matter his response. Finally, he felt obliged to say something in the awkwardness.

“Why do you hate it so much?”

Again he felt like he walked into that one, but was somewhat relieved as Cassidy finally moved. For a fraction of a second he had been wondering if she had died in her chair. He would never even notice. She adjusted her position, tilting her body away from him and watching the children on the sand like he. Assuming that meant he wasn’t going to get an answer, he brought the stick back to his lips, watching the kids along the shore. Hah, he remembered when he was that little. It was kind of sad, really. Social class never really had a ranking for him, and he was just thrown aside. That one weird kid that’s always in your classes but never really hung out with anyone. He liked the swing sets. He remembered that.

“Kills polar bears.”

Her cold voice suddenly made him jump and it took a little while to realize that Cassidy had spoken. Registering her words, he glanced curiously over to her, not sure how to regard her statement. Was it a joke? Her eyes had snidely come to him, watching irritably for his reaction. In that pregnant moment he wasn’t sure how to react. Laughing would offend her, though he could feel an amused smirk dwelling beneath his lips. Noticing his puzzlement, she promptly looked smug, allowing a smirk to seep from cheek to cheek as she looked back to the beach. The man exhaled pleasantly through his nostrils, a content smile stretching across his face as he followed her gaze back to the shores.

They weren’t a half-bad team.

just putting these here for now. xD ordered from most used to least used.

Tibere
Male Mightyena
o Crunch
o Flowerthrower
o Poison Fang
o Hyper Beam
His "initiation" pokemon. Every incoming Rocket trainer is granted a single pokemon, and he received a Poochyena.


Sispre
Female Aggron
o Take Down
o Dragon Claw
o Ice Beam
o Earthquake
A reward from Giovanni, sent by a Delibird but accidentally given to James for a period of time before the bird returned and re-directed the gift.


Eridan
Male Hitmontop
o Gyro Ball
o Rapid Spin
o Counter
o Aerial Ace
A Tyrogue he actually caught himself shortly after his initiation to Team Rocket. It later evolved into a Hitmontop.


Rook
Male Primeape
o Cross Chop
o Poison Jab
o Rock Tomb
o Seismic Toss
Stolen from some pokemon trainer and was allowed to keep.


Belier
Female Cloyster
o Spike Cannon
o Blizzard
o Surf
o Water Pulse
Stolen from some pokemon trainer and was allowed to keep.

[Fidge]