“Mmh, okay,” she allowed, “you have a point. Watching you fall on your face and then take a Hydro Pump at point blank range was pretty friggin’ funny.” It would be one of her favorite memories for the rest of her life. And, as the official start of their friendship, it would be something she could bring up until they were both old and gray, provided they lived that long.

She listened to him talk and was surprised by how much they had in common. She’d joined Rocket for much the same thing-- she wasn’t anyone to the League, would never have a chance to be-- and Rocket gave her, not only the groundwork, but a frame to climb. She was a mechanic. She liked framework.

Yeah, the story of how he’d ended up here checked out. She’d only known him for a little bit, but it seemed very in line with What She Knew Of Isaac Thus Far.

“I took an aptitude test,” she said, a bit quiet. It sounded lame compared to his adventure. She had been told by THEO BECKETT that she scored high enough on it to warrant Rocket’s attention.

⚰︎ beer run

Isaac Merlo

So here she was. Just staring into Isaac’s eyes as he laid out his little gameplan. Partners. The word was an omen. It made her heart do funny things, made her pulse sound volcanic in her ears.

Partners. She had to swallow, had to remember how to breathe. Because it was more than that, wasn’t it? Wasn’t it? Or was she just reading too much into it? Partners. Responsible for each other’s survival. He was worried about her almost dying-- he was worried about her getting hurt.

Partners. Not having to go into any more haunted houses alone. Not having to go back to Sea Mauville, alone. But more importantly, it was Isaac not having to go through this, alone. Not having him walk out to this edge, alone.

Partners.

“Partners,” she agreed, breaking a bear claw in half over the pastry box to not get crumbs all over the bed. She put one half on a napkin and placed it on Isaac’s chest.

“I swear it on the bear claw.”

Partners.

⚰︎ oops i 900 words

Isaac Merlo

She exhaled a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. It would never have occurred to her in a million, bazillion years that the little aptitude test she took on a whim would have actually-- that she would’ve scored-- holy shit.

“That’s fine,” she said, chest constricting with excitement, “that’s-- more than fine. I’m already staring down the barrel of my own mortality.” Looking forward to thirty years of doing the same thing, day in and day out, until she died, or got too arthritic from work to work.

What she knew of Rocket could fill a thimble. She had an idea of it in her head, and then, next to it, a monstrous, out-of-control version that most of the public knew. The Kanto takeover. The bloodshed. The nastiness.

She didn’t care. She wanted a change-- and metamorphosis wasn’t always the prettiest thing to witness.

“I’m always looking to broaden my scope,” she added, as though this were a job interview.

⚰︎ recruitment, act I

THEO BECKETT

Cyg laughed, a genuine, sparking sound; she was shocked at the thrill of excitement that shot through her at the thought of Elisa defending herself. It was like the world’s most fucked up buddy cop move, what was playing in her head. “Yeah, I know you are,” she said, a little dreamily, still smiling. “Capable, I mean.”

She took a sip of champagne and let her eyes fall on Elisa. “Well. I know you’re keeping secrets. Which is fine. You’re a big admin now and all that.” The sarcasm woven into her tone was smothering.

Laughter found her again, eyebrows lifting at Elisa’s continued deflection. “Yeah, yeah,” she said, sliding closer to her friend. She had the grace to blush when Elisa called her interesting. “Nah, I’m just a grease monkey of no importance. My life is intrinsically boring.”

Aside from robbing abandoned underwater structures with an oscar clayton piloted Genesect and hunting ghosts with Cillian Quinn , she didn’t really get up to much of anything fun.

“I think you think I’m a lot more social than I really am, Elisa.”

Elisabeth Fiorelli