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After being escorted through the front doors of HQ by a babbling Star, Team Rocket's newest member and ex-Galactic KO was shown to the front desk where he went through standard new recruit procedure. Forms were involved, as well as questions and fingerprinting. At the conclusion of the process KO was handed a folded red Trainee uniform and a room assignment.

Somehow Star had managed to linger nearby the whole time, regaling KO with stories of his latest genius designs and how he'd be implementing them. As long as KO was willing to nod, act interested and confirm how wonderful he was, Star kept talking. It was kind of sad really, when you thought about it. Star was an arrogant idiot most of the time, but he wasn't stupid. No doubt he understood on some level that KO's praise wasn't genuine. None the less he seemed desperate enough for it to stick nearby and keep talking.

Once the uniform had been passed over, signifying KO was properly registered, Star realized they were just standing in the lobby for no reason now. "That didn't take very long.." He seemed to grasp that continuing to monologue in the public space now that their business was done might be awkward, because he frowned and glanced around, "Well..." He cleared his throat and straightened up, "As much as I'd love to keep answering your questitons, Naos," had he actually asked any questions? "I should tend to that infirmary visit."

"Oh.. well." Star started walking, leading the way, "Not long. But I have an innate sense of direction." He shrugged and clasped his hands behind his back as his coat flowed behind him. "It might take you a little while, but you'll get used to it."

Fortunately for Star, despite the fact he was obviously bragging prematurely, he was able to maintain face by successfully leading the way to the infirmary. Limping from the room the day of the raid after finding out all his aspirations had been crushed left a decent impression on him. He knew the location.

On the subject of uniforms, Arcadie would agree that the trainee uniform was severely disappointing. Not that the standard grunt uniform was much better, with the flat block of gray and the thigh-highs and the ugh. A different pair of boots and some red leggings spruced it up nicely, but the young woman didn't exactly spend her time in the infirmary evaluating her outfit - much. At the root of things, she was a nurse, and a voice from the main entryway alerted her to someone's presence. Sort of an odd time of day for it; she'd already dealt with the trainee injuries from morning exercises, and people didn't usually come outside those hours. Some random mission gone awry, perhaps? Grunts were rarer than trainees, but they did still pop in from time to time. Raids, of course, were different matters altogether; the aftermath was always lots of fun, assuming she wasn't one of the ones being treated. Considerably less fun, that.

Moving along, moving along. It wouldn't be terribly long after KO's evaluation of the infirmary that Arcadie would appear from around a corner, a curious expression illuminating her features and giving way in short order to a bright smile. "Oh hey there, Mister--" Probably not the best idea to actually get in the habit of calling that guy Puppy Sir. For one thing, he acted much less like a puppy nowadays. More like some kind of cat, really. Large eyes found the grunt's companion, carrying a trainee uniform rather than wearing it. Interesting, but in all honesty not wearing the trainee uniform was probably the best thing one could do with it. Arcadie walked forward with the usual spring to her step and folded her arms behind her back. "What's up?" Highly professional as always.

He approved of the red leggings; gave the dull outfit a bit more punch, and it probably helped the over all look that the female version of the grunt outfit was much better fitted than what Star was wearing. Still, anything made off the rack for a man Star's height would never fit him.

As he looked the woman up and down Star introduced him, first by his old Galactic name and then by his first name; he was actually a little impressed that the man had remembered it. "Hi there," he smirked and gave a (very) casual salute, "either of those will do, or you can call me K.O; just you decide what you think suits me best... and you are?"

When KO spoke to Arcadie Star rolled his eyes.

"No, they're second degree... fairly superficial." He muttered dully. He'd endured his fair share of burns. He knew if these had been any worse he wouldn't have been able to stand the flight home. When Arcadie started walking he followed.

Having successfully commandeered an examination room, Arcadie began sorting through various cabinets in sort of the necessary lotions and gauzes she expected to need in the treatment of a burn wound, talking all the while, "Hee, well, I can cede to the no-ripping rule, but what are the chances we could meet halfway with a standard removal? Not quite as sexy, one might argue, but the results are practically identical." Glancing over her shoulder, she responded to KO's grin with one of her own. He was terribly pretty. Couldn't hold a candle to her Noe, perhaps, but Arcadie could certainly appreciate fine art in its presence.

"You, however," she turned her attention to Star, pointing a bottle of saline at him incriminatingly, "are going to have to do away with the shirt whether you like it or not. I'm assuming - hoping, rather, I suppose - that your clothes haven't melted to the wound? Because that is never fortunate at all. Oh, and seat-taking, that's a thing I would recommend." The saline was redirected to a high stool likely used on a regular basis for basic check-ups.

"Really can't recommend the whole conventional training thing," Arcadie said, pursing her lips. "Schooling and schooling and schooling, then months upon months of changing out bedpans. Do not want." She laid out the materials she had acquired for the task at hand on a small metal tray, studying them and counting off on her fingers what was there to make sure she had not forgotten anything. She nodded, at KO's comment rather than at her findings, "Oh, yes, yes, and yes. Who do I contact about what gets written on my grave, because I am sure it will have to read 'died of terrible drabness.'"

KO grinned and lent back casually against a wall. "Well I've got to change into this new uniform sometime," he said with a hint of purr, "though it's going to need some adjustments before I'm prepared to walk around in it; much like this room, it seems men's uniforms here are designed with function, and the destruction of style in mind. I suppose at least the Agent level one is interesting though. Looking forward to wearing that one, Herr Commandant? I think the top would really flatter your figure." This was said with a brief smirk to Star, but the thought of bedpans soon soured his expression and he turned to Arcadie again. "I don't deal with that end of things," he said firmly, but then paused for a moment, tilted his head, and added; "Not in that context anyway."

Ah, and Star wanted him to go but thought he was being subtle about it. Well if the Commandant was so subtle, then quite obviously a lowly little servant such as he wouldn't pick up on the undercurrents! "Oh I'm in no rush Star, I don't mind keeping you company," KO said with a slight smile and a small shrug, "somehow I doubt the rest of base is an art gallery waiting for me to admire it, and if I hang around here I can pretend my quarters are going to be five star and come with their own handsome butler and willing maids for a little longer. Plus I can have a look at your coat for you," he added with a nod at the garment, "see just how much repairing it's going to need, if you would still like me to fix it for you?" Leave Star torn between getting rid of him and getting his precious coat inspected right away; the conflicting emotions would be wonderful to watch on that mobile face of his.

KO's mention of his uniform drew a long shrug and an excessively innocent smile, "Weeeeell, your friend here's half naked already, so if we wanna make it some kind of party..." So very smooth, that girl. Mention of the fit of the uniform, however, drew a more grave, sympathetic expression, "Oh Arceus, just tell me about it. So glad to be out of the red uniform. Even the lady grunt uniform comes in a pants variation. Straight. Legged. Pants. You know, there was a funeral shortly after I started here. Pretty sure decent fashion was what went into that grave." Oops, was that offensive? Well, it'd already come out of her mouth. Too late!

She steadily and carefully began the initial sterilization process on the wound, making no outward indications that she as much as noticed the various evidence of past abuse. It was poor bedside manner to bring up a patient's appearance. (So was it good manners to make fun of someone's funeral, Arcadie?) The weird bracelet thing was an interesting touch; the pointy man didn't seem the sort to wear jewelry, and it wasn't very fashionable either. She considered mentioning the fresher bandaging, thought not at the moment. At the moment was fantastic medicines, because that's what fantastic medics did. Humming a vague, tuneless melody, she set to the task of dampening the wrapping bandages. Her aimless song raised several octaves questioningly at Star's question, and she answered with a sly grin.

"Oh no, not at all. Actually, I staff the cafeteria on a day-to-day business, but I really enjoy the smell of antisceptic, so I sneak in here from time to time." Her expert handling of the bandaging easily exposed her blatant lie.