Looks like we might be due...

The feed opens up on a slightly jaundiced eye, wild and a little bloodshot. It twitches unnaturally, then squints in glee as the hand holding the Pokègear pulls away, revealing a maturely handsome man in a newly acquired Rocket outfit, stroking his goatee thoughtfully. He poses for the camera, admiring his image in the eye's reflection.

"My, don't you look absolutely riveting, sir. Black suits you… Though that's more than I can say for this place..."

Discord glances around, eyes swiveling around appraisingly, as if selecting which things to keep and which to spruce up a bit. It’s clear that it’s largely disposed to the latter; the room behind him is a depressingly grey little hole, and it is clear that despite the man's seemingly constant gleeful grin that Discord is more than slightly perturbed by things. He glances below-camera, eyes scanning quickly.

"Pokègear...yadda yadda connections....something something make friends, oh please, why do something so positively droll...pah!" A small booklet goes flying past the camera, shedding pages like new snow, one of which lands on his nose. Raised eyebrow and licked lips; within seconds he is chewing thoughtfully.

"Hm. Even paper tastes differently here...How delightfully…tasteless. It's no cotton candy, but it will do. Oh fine, what do <i>you</i> want?”

“Sol.”

The camera spins on a quietly sitting Absol, wearing the closest ‘Orly’ expression that a Pokèmon is likely to achieve. It has a slim black bandanna around its head emblazoned with a violently red ‘R’. A scoff from off camera, followed by a flying paper ball (which the Absol naturally dodges).

“Oh like you haven’t.”