[attr="class","stylishtext"] There countless people on the planet that could do what she did. Those with more scholarly approaches, field experience, you name it. Life in and of itself was a competition. To with which, Mayday would never allow herself to be second best. So yes, perhaps there were a multitude of other Rocket members that were experienced toxologists, but they, were no Mayday MArkov. And that, was what made her the MQC.
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Most qualified candidate.
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The corners of her glossed lips curl into a smile of wicked origin. The gleam in her eye shines bright with the subtlety of evil. Darkness rolls in, shrouding her hues. A storm rolls in, "I'm capable of all things." A sugar packet is ripped, its contents falling into the brewed tea within her glass. "And what I can't do, I still am capable of." Another packet is ripped and repeats the process of being poured into her mixture. "There are no limits, in the pursuit of entropy, Mr. Beckett."
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A spoon laid against the saucer is plucked, dipped into the tea, and swirled about before being placed aside. "I am but a catalyst." She sips the tea, humming in pleasure at its taste.

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THEO BECKETT

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[attr="class","stylishtext"] "The pleasure's all mine, Ceri~" quite the chipper little lady she was. A bright and warm disposition that was stark contrast tot he cold and frigid breeze that occasionally blew against the berries of the field. What a wonderful turn of events. With all of the members she had met from previous missions, it was almost impossible to guess what type of persona she would be met with on random. Ceri, was certainly a win for Mayday.
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She places a hand against her scarf and beams brightly. "Oh, thank you~ it was on sale so I had to grab it. I can show you where I got it the next time we're both free?" No need to hide nice accessories from someone as cute as Ceri. She could easily pull off the scarf. In various colors, no less. Mayday had no doubts about it. "I can see you in a nice lilac or lavender number? It would go amazing with your hair and eyes." A shopping date was a must. But first, berry picking.
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With a nod, Mayday agrees, "I suppose so," her bright hues scan the field and then return to meet Ceri. "Do you think we'll be able to salvage that many? Seeing as though the weather is doing all in its power to freeze us." A snicker flows before she kneels, sifting through the foliage in search of berries that survived the frost.

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Ceri Glynn

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[attr="class","stylishtext"] "Contribute and strengthen." Her response mimics his inquiries. Short, curt, to the point of the matter. There were no punches pulled in the conversation between the pair. She knew what she was here to do, and he knew what the organization required in their members. The need to put on any form of air was fruitless here, manipulation just as inconsequential. Her earnest desire to see a world she had envisioned was all that she needed. Her will would see her through. And if not? Then, oh well.
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The waiter returns, leaving a glass of steaming hot water and two tea bags on a saucer. Thanking him, Mayday unravels a bag and slowly dunks it into the water. "I plan to create specific poisons," slowly, the clear water shifts in color. A dark brow radiating from the epicenter, seating free the tea bag, "specifically, an avatar slayer." Changing what once lived in the glass. "I've gained knowledge in medicines and herbs. Using them both, I'll mass produce poisons and drugs to assist the organization."
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Her fingers pinch the string, raising and dunking the tea bag as it steeps in the water.

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THEO BECKETT

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[attr="class","stylishtext"] A snicker of amusement leaves her lips before her head shakes, "I'll try my best not to. Though, I'd like to think I'm an adequate ice-skater." It wasn't every day she took to the ice and skid across the frosted water. For obvious reasons, the weather rarely permitted feasible conditions for ice-skating in Hoenn. Which wasn't a bad thing, in fact, she had started to enjoy the weather in the new region. It had a slight semblance of what she knew back in Johto.
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"Alright, your turn," Mayday turns to look Uriah in the eyes, softening her gaze. "I'm still not convinced you're relaxed. So you tell me an embarrassing moment." With a nod, her legs push against the ice to propel them forward at a glacial pace. Her attention only shifted from Uri to view the immediate area. In the distance, there seemed to be a stand that offered winter treats and eats. And, now that she thought about it, she could go for a snack. Perhaps something warm would help loosen a tense orange-haired plus one? "You have until we get to the stand to think of something." Mayday giggles, motioning to the aforementioned stand with the point of a finger. Making sure to keep her body close to his. Her digits laced with his as she held tighter to his hand.
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The wheels were still turning, cogs moving in unison as her thoughts progressed. Sure, this was a nice change of pace. And, yes, Uriah certainly had the allure of someone she wouldn't mind having in her vision often. But, there was a budding curiosity gnawing at her. Scratching at the seems of normalcy about the date. She had to oblige it, she knew it wouldn't rest if she didn't. "A fan of hot cocoa?" She inquires with the perk of an eyebrow, leading the pair off the ice and wobbling back towards their placed footwear.
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"It's date-like to share a mug, no?"

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URIAH BLACK

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[attr="class","stylishtext"] She moves akin to a thief in the night, laying low, lurking in the shadows and praying on the downfall of those who suspect another mundane night. Her scheme had been days in the making, and finally, it was time to act. Having been in Mauville city for two days, Mayday had spent those forty-eight hours surveying a certain hotel. Human traffic was abundant, in and out trainers and civilians alike moved through the doors of the four-story establishment. This was the perfect locale to test her new creation. All signs led to a successful harvest of cries, mayhem, and chaos.
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She blended in among them easy enough. Posing as a tourist, she met the concierge at the front desk and asked for a room on the topmost floor of the hotel. Upon being given a room, she thanked the man and waited exactly one hour before moving onward. With Gardevoir's assistance, Mayday teleports to each floor and places one gaudy, egg-shaped trinket in plain sight. Akin to an elaborate paperweight, or perhaps an extravagant piece of home decor, the eggs lay in plain sight. Untouched, unbothered. For fear of breaking and having to reimburse the hotel, the patrons dared not bother them.
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It was perfect.
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Night had fallen on the third day of her stay, and Mayday finds herself standing atop the roof of the hotel with Gardevoir at her side, and a mechanism clasped between nimble, lithe digits. "Here's to us." She speaks out behind a silver mask that covers the uppermost parts of her face. Leaving her glossed lips exposed. A cape covers her head and drapes against the floor of the roof as her thumb presses down on the red button that shines in the spotlight of the moon.
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In a matter of seconds, each ornate egg clicks in unison, exposing various orifices that project a plume of decadent smelling purple smog into each floor of the building. The entirety of the hotel is saturated in the poison, and a cacophony of coughs and hacks ensue, its music to her ears from the safety of the roof. The patrons, the visitors, and the staff fall victim to Mayday's latest poison. Desperately, they each grasp at their throats feverishly hacking, gasping for air before they collapse onto floors, tables, stairs. Their bodies lay limp as only a few manage to escape from the main foyer's doors. Still, hacking and coughing. Falling over as they tremble with tears streaming down their eyes and spittle dribbling down their lips.
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"What do you think we should call this one, Gardevoir~?"

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@onyx

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[attr="class","stylishtext"] Oh, wonderful. She hadn't kept Evelyn waiting. With that weight tossed free from her shoulders, Mayday gave the woman a bright beam. Silently, she reached into the pocket of her parka and plucked free from it three colored atomizers. "I made these just yesterday~" I her possession, there was a pink, purple, and green vial respectively. "I decided to try a few new mixtures, and I thought perhaps we could test them out?"
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It didn't hurt to ask, right? Although, "though, if I'm being honest, I'm not too sure they'll bear the results I'm looking for." Call it a sixth sense, but while she was mid-crafting the creations of doom, there was a budding feeling of doubt in the potency of this batch. A nagging sensation in the back of her mind that pelted her with negativity. Which, in truth, could have hindered her performance in the crafting process.
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"I was out of my usual berries, so I thought to use a new selection." Trial and error had become her two new best friends. "I'm running low on a few supplies. Today would have been shopping day, but, this sounded much more entertaining~"

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@evelyn

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[attr="class","stylishtext"] Upon contact with the door, and it being flung open by the kick given to it from Martin, Mayday places both hands against her chest and feigns a tone of wonderment. "Oh my, I knew you had it in you~" soon after, she snickers and takes a step forward, leading the way into the shanty. "What a gentleman, thank you very much." She gives a small curtsy before moving deeper into the abode, giving the interior a swift look around before making a leisure bee-line towards the cellar like door.
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With a soft tug, the flap opens and reveals a stairwell leading downward. Darkness illuminated by installed light fixtures contrasting the rustic nature of the stone steps and wall. "Interesting." Quite the stunt to avoid paying one's dues. But alas, it simply wasn't clever enough to outrun the inevitable. Moving down the steps, Mayday takes the lead. Her palm slips into her pocket, ready to administer her poison at a moment's notice if need be. "Circling back to our previous conversation," she chirps, "you did look rather sharp in that suit of yours the other day."
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Down into the basement, they descend, finally locking sight with the merchant who was vastly underprepared for the pair. Shown quite obviously by his falling back behind a lone table and flipping it over for "protection". "N-no, please! You have to let me explain!" With the cocking of her head to the side, and perking up of one eyebrow, Mayday turns to face Martin, "should we?"

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Martín del Mar

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[attr="class","stylishtext"] A Sinnoh native? She hadn't the pleasure of visiting the region yet, it was certainly on her list of travel spots though. Imagine what she could conjure up with the berries there? The toxins that the indigenous pokemon could secrete and produce. In truth, Mayday wanted to travel across the globe collecting samples and crafting various elixirs of doom at her leisure. All in due time, though. Today, she would fixate on a smaller goal; finding entertainment in the man next to her.
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"Sinnoh? You're quite far from home," Mayday starts, noticing the tightening of his digits against her own as the pair make their way onto the ice, "do you ever feel homesick at all?" Her inquiry is brought forth in a sincere tone. Though, she doubles back and chuckles shortly after. "Squats huh? I suppose those pants just don't do you justice. I'll take your word for it, though." Her hues look up to him, still noticing his attention elsewhere, "maybe I'll get to see for myself one day." And she leaves it at that, moving her body next to Uriah's. Closing what little distance they share and giving his palm a gentle squeeze.
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Her intuition speaks next, "something on your mind?" Her body leans forward, eyes trying to find and meet Uriah's while boasting warmth and openness in her gaze. "Surely, someone as handsome as yourself isn't nervous?" Her body returns erect as a small chuckle escapes her. "That's cute, if so." various routes are unfolding in her mind. Trails and paths lead to scenarios of varying endings. Which to choose? Which would bear the most delicious fruit?
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"When I was younger, I thought that if I tried really hard, I could fly just like the pidgeotto outside of my house. So, one day, I climbed a small tree and tried to follow a flock of them, and fell flat on my face... in front of a group of children." A hearty, soft laugh leaves her glossed lips. "I was devastated," her attention turns to Uriah. "I refused to leave my room for a week."

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URIAH BLACK

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[attr="class","stylishtext"] A palm rises, covering her mouth as she giggles amusingly at the male's demonstration. In truth, she hadn't thought someone of his stature in the organization to be such a personable figure. His persona was quite the stark contrast from the image she had built him up to be against her mental canvas. Perhaps that was the allure of Rocket as a whole? The cover of the novel was not to be judged before the pages were read. Even more of a reason to feel at home amongst them.
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"I see," no sooner had Mayday thought to order a cup of tea, had Theo decided to shift the tide of conversation to the more pressing of matters. Why did she want in? "A loaded question," she begins, "I'm not sure I can answer in so few words, but I'll try." Her eyes slowly close, a whimsical hum leaves her lips as she ponders momentarily. "Chaos theory." Her eyes spring open, and her lips curl into a smile of warmth. "Without rain, there are no flowers. No eggs? No cake. There are forces in this world that must go against the grain to maintain order. Those forces are detrimental to growth, success, evolution." She takes a moment to flag down a waiter. "One cup of tea, please."
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After he leaves, her hues immediately snap back to the man across from her. Lipping the word, 'Rocket' in silence, she finishes aloud, "is that force."

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THEO BECKETT

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[attr="class","stylishtext"] "Your words, not mine," Mayday quips with a giggle, "I would've chosen... busy, as my guess." Unfortunately, she didn't have the pleasure of owning a business, let alone one as lucrative as a bank, so she could only imagine how jam-packed his schedule could get at any given moment. Far from boring, but busy? She could see it. Though, now that she thought about it a little more, boardroom meetings sounded like a terrible time. Just sitting... and listening... yuck. She would much rather be out in the field, handling situations such as this. The juggling skills he must have carried to handle a corporate life in one hand and a seedier variant in the other. Balls in the air at all times, she ventured to guess.
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His logic was sound all the same, "valid." Mayday gives him a nod before the corners of her lips curl up into a thoroughly amused smirk. It went without saying that she would have to earn his backing. Anything in life worth having, well, most things; weren't easily obtained. And if they were, they were most likely just as easily lost. "I wouldn't have it any other way, Mr. Del Mar." The added formality rolls fluidly off her tongue before her index finger points towards his... attire. Specifically, his headwear. "Do you have a shelf to be on after this?" she snerks, "it's a nice look for you, though. Very festive." Among other things. Festive, and amusing.
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While conversing, the pair come up to the first of a few vendors they would be collecting payment from. The establishment is a small enclosed shack, seemingly empty from the lack of lights displayed from the exterior. "Hm," but she wasn't convinced. "You don't suppose they were warned about us earlier, do you?" Her palms move to her hips before her feet saunter about the side of the shanty. Peering into the window and noticing what seems to be a cellar door fixated dead center the floor. "I see," she smirks. How clever. "I guess we'll have to see ourselves in." She returns to the front door, looking at Martin with a leisurely up and down. Batting her lashes, "would you be so kind as to apply a little force? I'm sure you have quite the physique under that festive hat of yours~" she cooed.

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Martín del Mar

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[attr="class","stylishtext"] A rocket's job was never truly done, and it seemed as though the saying continued even after the recycling of new and old members. In the midst of pouring vials of bright-colored liquids into one another, Mayday was alerted to a mission that required her attention. It seemed as though there were a few, seasoned, rocket members that thought it their job to bring reproach upon the glorious name of their organization. And, it was tasked to her, and Evelyn Lyons to snuff them out. Mission accepted. Timely, the notification, perhaps she could test out a new concoction of hers in the fray?
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The term 'take out', gave implications that it didn't matter how the trash was dealt with. So long as it was dealt with in full. And it would be done meticulously at that, two birds, one stone. After leaving her abode, Mayday made her way to the lower district of Slateport and found the clinic in the distance. Tapping her parka, she ensured she had vials of her concoction safely placed in atomizers and her Pokeball in tow before she noticed the woman standing outside. It must have been Evelyn awaiting her arrival.
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"Good evening, Love!" She cheerfully responds, closing the distance, "I hope I didn't keep you waiting long?" With a grin, she tucks a loose strand of pink hair behind her ear as a slight winter breeze moves the rest of her trestles in its wake in tandem with an excited nod. "Sure am, I brought a little something to make things... interesting~" Her grin widens, seasoned with a hint of darkness in its giddy glow.

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@evelyn

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[attr="class","stylishtext"] His baritone dispels the fog of uncertainty. This was the man of the hour, the gateway to the lifestyle she had been glamourizing since her arrival. With a nod, she moves to take the open seat and scoots the chair closer to the table, taking note of the raised mug and chuckling softly in response. "I could go for a drink." Though, if the coffee was poor in taste, why was he drinking it? Huh, strange man this Theo Beckett.
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She liked him already. "Any recommendations for a specific blend of tea? Or should I just ask for a glass of hot water and make it myself?" No stranger to crafting from scratch, it wouldn't bother her either way. A warm drink would do her well. The weather had plummeted and the brisk breeze and gale of winter had whipped through her trestles while she traveled here. Warming up in any capacity sounded like a great idea.
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"Thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule to meet me. I'm very grateful."

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THEO BECKETT

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