our home is the wind, we're gods of the morning

[There's a rumbling sound behind this feed, and Malik's voice is shaky too - he's currently riding shotgun in a garbage truck, with his Muk and a couple of Grimers in the back doing the honors.

But regardless of the broadcast quality, he sounds pretty insistent.]

Johto garbage detail. Report in.

I want all the details as they occur. Any complications, contact me immediately.

We've got a schedule to keep, lest things get dirty.

[Petty. But effective.]

[[ooc: Sorry if I'm jumping the gun getting the plot started this morning - unexpected traveling came up this week, and I'm heading home today prettttty much as soon as I hit "post", but wanted to get Johto's garbage leader out there beforehand. Feel free to forward-date to after any official plot kickoff, if there's one. ^____^;;;]]

[Impatient with training, Malik's left a note on his desk for his Rocket supervisors ("Back soon. Look forward to gifts") and successfully escaped HQ. A profitable venture should cancel out the breach of conduct.

Except why is it so nice outside. Why is everyone so happy. People aren't, by nature, happy creatures. This unnerves him.

Turning to the PokéGear, he switches it on.]

Experienced travelers. This weather's an anomaly, correct....

[Except then the feed goes staticky; the Gear hits the ground and switches to video. A dark-skinned boy with a Duel Disk on one arm is twisting to get a look at what's knocked him over, snuggled against his back and hugging him.

For that matter, trying to kiss him.]

Smoochum! Smoo!

[What an auspicious beginning to his life of crime.]