[attr="class","seratest2text"]



Seraphine frowned as she listened to the discussion regarding the meteor and what to do about it. Scientific theorizing was never her strong suit. Politics, however - that was a different matter. A palpable tension hung about the air, as if the very outcome of this meeting would carry not just lasting region-wide implications, but personal ones too - perhaps for each person in the room, and each of their ambitions.[break][break]
Seraphine fixed her golden eyes on declan walsh and considered the Rocket boss. She had never spoken with the man, but she respected him. It was hard not to: in many ways, he held much of the fate of Hoenn in his hands, as was the subject of this meeting. All the same, however, she did not linger on him overly long: her gaze soon slid to Martín del Mar, who's words regarding the three possible outcomes had been logically measured. Now there's a man I'd follow into certain doom, Seraphine thought, a small, wry smile gracing her lips. If only because he does everything with such undeniable flair. In the end, it was not Declan Walsh who had recruited her to the Rocket cause; she was loyal to the organization, but Martín del Mar was the sort of man she would fight for. If it came down to that.[break][break]
Beside her, @bishop made a scathing comment about the League, to which Marza Volchitsa agreed. Seraphine couldn't help but smile fondly at both of them. She had grown accustomed to surrounding herself with people like them - brawn, muscle, and a healthy measure of crude humor. It was a contrast to her own elegance, but she found that she enjoyed their company more than she might have expected.[break][break]
She moved closer to Bishop upon spying Zev Harcourt in the crowd. No reason for that, really.[break][break]
"Take advantage of the chaos, should their plan succeed?" Seraphine murmured out loud at THEO BECKETT's suggestion to take advantage of the League focusing on destroying the meteor. She turned to Rafael Artega, expression incredulous. "That's putting a lot of faith in the League, isn't it? Can't say I have that faith, myself. What will we have to rule over should the League fail, is the more pressing question."

[attr="class","seratest2ooc"]
[break]

NOTES

+ Seraphine's Outfit[break][break]

RECAP

+ Seraphine is listening intently to the conversation[break]
+ Seraphine is standing with Bishop, Marza, and Rafael[break]
+ Seraphine does not know if she agrees with Theo's bold proposal; she would like to hear from the head scientists about what the plan regarding the meteor should be. She does not trust the League to succeed with destroying it.

ORIGINAL TEMPLATE BY GUNSMILE

[attr="class","seratest2text"]



Seraphine smiled politely at her client, and though she was sure to wink and laugh at all the right moments during their conversation, as was befitting the master artist's reputation for hospitality, her mind inevitably wandered. The older man, though easy on the eyes, was just another boring rich entrepreneur interested in hanging her art in his estate - not so much because of the contents of the paintings themselves, but rather, because of the prestige of her name. It had become quite clear to Seraphine just how little this man understood about art. Even Bishop could recognize some of the small details that made her work stand out to her own eyes.[break][break]
Speaking of her handyman, where was he exactly? He had not seemed entirely like himself when he'd ambled in to work that morning, a few minutes late, body language stiff and expression somewhat reserved. He'd looked as if he were grueling his way through what had become, for Seraphine at least, an enjoyable routine; she'd thought he'd felt the same. No, that's silly. Why would he look forward to coming to work? It's his leisure time he must truly enjoy. As would be expected.[break][break]
Her client had overstayed his welcome. He seemed to realize this on his own - thank Arceus - and began making preparations to depart. Rouge helped package up the painting he had purchased, his deft Smeargle paws making quick work of the process. Finally, after what had seemed an eternity of pointless small talk, the man bid the artist a fond farewell with a kiss to the back of her hand (his cologne was entirely too strong, and Seraphine had to suppress the urge to sneeze) and a promise to patron her once more in the near future. "We would be very glad to see you again soon," she purred in agreement, seductive smile melting away once the front door clicked shut.[break][break]
Seraphine let out a long sigh, then turned on her heel, putting the man and his meaningless platitudes behind her. Such was the nature of her business: to be appealing, no matter the client. A sale was a sale, after all.[break][break]
She found Bishop nearby, hanging paintings in a small offshoot of the main gallery. She gazed at the familiar man - a man she had grown so accustomed to seeing on nearly a daily basis - and her brow furrowed as she watched him move. His normally sturdy form did seem to be carrying a degree of tension it did not normally carry. How accustomed she had become to looking at Bishop; she knew him well enough now to realize that the gritted teeth, strained expression, and grunts were all signs that the rugged white-haired man was in physical pain.[break][break]
"Bishop, are you allright?" She asked him, tone genuinely concerned.

[attr="class","seratest2ooc"]
[break]

NOTES

+ Seraphine's Outfit

ORIGINAL TEMPLATE BY GUNSMILE

[attr="class","seratest2text"]

"You might surprise yourself," Seraphine chuckled at Marza's words regarding her lack of artistic eye. The other woman was smarter than she let on, after all. There are brains beneath the brawn. She could see the hint of hunger in the other woman's dark expression - but she would not give in to Seraphine's coy prodding, that much was clear. Still, with enough patience, Seraphine knew she could uncover most anyone's secrets. She had been trusted with Cillian Quinn's brutality first hand, and she was the keeper of @bishop's history - a history that could get him killed if it ever fell into the wrong hands.[break][break]
"It was an invitation, by the way," the master artist added, sipping her champagne. "And if you further impress me tonight, perhaps I will also show you my private studio." Her tone was the usual brand of flirtatious, but there was an undercurrent of fierce pride, too.[break][break]
I am more than a mere hostess; Rocket would be lost without the work I do. If not for me, how many of them would still be scrambling to hide from the League? How many identities have I created over the years, and how many have I made disappear? They need me more than they will ever care to admit.

[attr="class","seratest2ooc"]
[break]

NOTES

+ Mission: Rigged Gacha Rolls[break]
+ Seraphine's Outfit

BY GUNSMILE

[attr="class","seratest2text"]



For the right price.[break][break]
She'd heard their name, of course. Everyone had. Only a fool living under a rock would not have heard of Team Rocket. In Hoenn, they operated primarily in the shadows, however, unable to wield open warfare as they had in other regions.[break][break]
Yet.[break][break]
She did not know, and could not truly suspect, the extent to which Martín del Mar was associated with the criminal organization - perhaps not at all. But they came to mind now based off a sudden intuition, and a sneaking suspicion that she had finally drawn their attention, as she had hoped she might with her forgery work. Did this powerful man, who's unwavering support of the League was known amongst her circles, have something to do with them? She had thought of Martín Del Mar as a businessman, a potential backer, a patron. But there was more to the man than met the eye, that much was clear to her now. And...there was the undeniable fact that the hard look in Martín's eyes was precisely the sort of look someone gave when they were about to divulge information that could get the receiver killed.[break][break]
What Seraphine chose to say next was very, very important.[break][break]
"For the right price," she echoed, keeping her voice even and meeting his intense gaze. "Mr. Del Mar, I would do more than simply create identities. I would also make people disappear."

[attr="class","seratest2ooc"]
[break]

NOTES

+ Mission: Rocket Recruitment [Act 1][break]
+ Seraphine's Outfit

BY GUNSMILE

[attr="class","seratest2text"]



Seraphine's golden eyes widened in shock when Bishop began speaking in her native tongue. Their native tongue. Despite his rough, deep voice, the language sounded natural coming from him. He really had been raised in Kalos, she realized; she had suspected it, but hadn't wanted to get her hopes up. "I was born in Laverre City," She replied, delighted, also in Kalosian. "Have you ever been? I admit, I miss it dearly sometimes - especially in Autumn, actually. The colorful leaves of the ancient tree are unmatched." She paused. "We used to take trips to Lumiose so that my mother could go shopping at the Boutique Couture. We'd always get strawberry tarts after."[break][break]
These were some of the better memories she had of her mother. Of course, her father never attended such trips. Seraphine and her sisters would ride the train together, watching excitedly as the majestic Prism Tower revealed itself on the horizon as the train sped along.[break][break]
Just then, a Mr. Mime ambled by, but did not linger overly long in the lavender field. Seraphine ignored it, still too focused on the revelation about Bishop's past. She had paused in her sketching, as well, and had turned on the blanket to fully face him. Deciding a snack couldn't hurt, she dipped a carrot in the hummus.[break][break]
"Do you have family in Galar, then?" She asked, after she finished chewing. "Why flee to Hoenn and not Galar?"

[attr="class","seratest2ooc"]
[break]

NOTES

+ Duo Wild (Psychic/Normal)[break]
+ Seraphine's Outfit[break]
+ Seraphine is PASSING on all Pokémon[break][break]

Catch Data

BY GUNSMILE

[attr="class","seratest2text"]



Seraphine did not flinch when the Shadow Sandslash quickly and efficiently removed Belmont’s arm from his body. Expression stoic, she merely casually leaned down to pick up the clipboard and deftly move it away from the man now dripping blood all over the ground. She did not let her gaze linger overly long on the gruesome scene before her: the sight of the blood splatter and the now-frozen arm, combined with the sounds of the prisoner’s choking sobs of pain, were enough to twist even her resolute stomach.[break][break]
But she did not waver when Gavin indicated that it was time to leave. She kept her face schooled in an expression of perfect neutrality. She had expected this, after all - had even encouraged Gavin to do it. She would not show her superior an ounce of discomfort; she was Rocket. Those that went far in this organization could handle the often necessary violence. Which, she was realizing, she could.[break][break]
She turned and walked out of the cell without another word to Francis Belmont, her Chandelure following dutifully after her. She would not need anything more from him to complete her work. What happened to him after today - well, it was not her concern. The outside world would soon learn of his “death”...how long that would remain a lie was up to Gavin.[break][break]
"This is sufficient,” she said to the underboss, looking over Belmont’s shaky handwriting. "I can have the other documents written up within a day.” She followed him as they walked back out into the muted hallway. "Does that work for you?”

[attr="class","seratest2ooc"]
[break]

NOTES

+ Mission: A Deadly Job[break]
+ Seraphine's Outfit

ORIGINAL TEMPLATE BY GUNSMILE

[attr="class","seratest2text"]

Trading Seraphine D’aureville's recently caught AZURILL (from a duo wild) for Martín del Mar's Gacha SOLROCK.[break][break]

[attr="class","seratest2ooc"]
[break]

NOTES

+ Trade Confirmation

ORIGINAL TEMPLATE BY GUNSMILE

[attr="class","seratest2text"]



"Hello, Francis," Seraphine greeted the wary prisoner in a professional manner, devoid of emotion, heels clicking on cold stone as she followed Gavin into the cell. She ignored Belmont's staring - a mix of scrutiny, terror, hatred, and lust all jostling for dominance - and held out the clipboard and a pen. "This is your last will and testament, and you will need to fill it out for us without delay." Her tone brokered no room for argument.[break][break]
Francis Belmont was, however, a desperate man: and so he did argue. "Are you going to kill me then?" He spat, gaze flicking to Gavin for a moment, then back to Seraphine. "Served my purpose, have I?"[break][break]
"I could not say, and I certainly could not care," Seraphine snapped, impatient. Sufficiently intimidated, the pathetic man hesitantly took the clipboard and pen, and began looking over the document. "I can't...see the words, it's too dark in this room..." he muttered, annoyingly obstinate.[break][break]
Seraphine sighed, and took out a Pokéball from her purse. She released Lumière, the Chandelure appearing as if out of thin air, floating next to the prisoner's head. He jumped back in alarm, clearly disturbed by the ghost Pokémon's sudden manifestation. Seraphine smiled thinly. "Is that better?" She asked in a dry tone.[break][break]
The sickly purple light that emanated from Lumière's spectral flames cast an eerie glow to the entire room. She thought it was not possible for Cillian Quinn to look more menacing than he already did, but the supernatural glow that seemed to surround him now only enhanced his appearance as some sort of otherworldly predator come to finish off its prey.

[attr="class","seratest2ooc"]
[break]

NOTES

+ Mission: A Deadly Job[break]
+ Seraphine's Outfit

ORIGINAL TEMPLATE BY GUNSMILE

[attr="class","seratest2text"]



Seraphine's chest swelled with pride as Xiura perfectly described the aesthetic she had been going for with her choices in décor for the evening. "You flatter me, Xiura," she purred, tone pleased. "I wanted something dreamy and ethereal, something that would make my guests forget they had entered my art gallery and believe they had walked into an enchanted forest instead."[break][break]
She paused, then, considering Xiura's inquiry. "As a young girl with a talent for art, I asked my parents for a Smeargle - they are the ideal Pokémon partner for any man or woman serious about pursuing the arts, as I am sure you are well aware. My father was indifferent - as he was wont to be - but my mother decided that if I was to have one, I ought to go and meet the right one myself. She chaperoned my trip to the Riviere Walk back in Kalos, where many Smeargle can be found, and I searched about until I found Rouge."[break][break]
She remembered the way his red-tipped paintbrush tail had caught her attention. He had such kindly eyes, and when she'd asked if he wanted to paint with her, he had struck her as dutiful and diligent in his approach. His own work was bold and beautiful, and she had liked the abstract nature of it in comparison to her more impressionistic style.[break][break]
"Meeting Rouge was one of the happiest days of my childhood," she murmured softly, coming out of her reverie. "His style compliments mine - dynamic where mine is soft, bold where mine is moody. Ah - it seems it is time for you to see for yourself."[break][break]
Everything had indeed been cleared away, and it was time to announce Rouge's reveal. Seraphine nodded her head in respect to Xiura, and made her way to the front of the room. A microphone had been assembled for this very moment, and she smiled encouragingly at Rouge as she approached him and his as-of-yet-still-covered collection. She cleared her throat, and the chatter throughout the room began to die down. When she had the crowd's attention, she spoke.[break][break]
"I want to thank you all for being here tonight to celebrate Rouge and his work," she announced warmly. "He has been working very hard and I know he is eager to show you all his newest creations. So without further ado, let us toast him as he unveils his new collection!" She held up her glass and waited for everyone else to do the same. Polite applause and the clinking of glasses echoed all around the gallery. Seraphine nodded to Rouge and he moved to uncover his artwork.[break][break]
The paintings were a series of abstract, colorful, boldly lined interpretations of various locations throughout Hoenn, in the height of summer. Fireworks of pigment exploded across stark white canvas, creating many different patterns that somehow, despite their lack of realism, still spoke to such environmental features as the crashing of waves against Slateport beach or the tall treetop buildings of Fortree. Seraphine beamed with pride. Hopefully their guests would be as impressed as she was.

[attr="class","seratest2ooc"]
[break]

NOTES

+ Mission: Poke Party[break]
+ Seraphine's Outfit

ORIGINAL TEMPLATE BY GUNSMILE

[attr="class","seratest2text"]

"Yes, that would do nicely," Seraphine agreed, tone clinical. She matched Gavin's hardness with her own. They had an understanding: she might not be the sort to do the dismembering, but she condoned it. And she would also help him lie about it.[break][break]
The artist plucked two papers from her pile of official document templates, and attached them to a chic leather-backed clipboard. On the top was the Last Will and Testament. On the bottom was the autopsy report. "Shall we go and see the prisoner, then?" She smiled and it did not reach her eyes. "It would only be right to hear from the man's own mouth what he plans to leave behind for his loved ones. Adds a touch of realism, if you will. After that, the details added to the autopsy report are yours to determine."[break][break]
Gavin was a dangerous man, to be sure. Like Zev, she couldn't help but think, remembering that her ex-lover could easily have been the one assigned to torture Francis Belmont. But she had never seen Zev smile like that, however, so hauntingly brutal, with a hint of inhumanity: a weapon that dulled if not deliberately sharpened.[break][break]
Best not to think about Zev. Best to focus on the job. Her job, not his.

[attr="class","seratest2ooc"]
[break]

NOTES

+ Mission: A Deadly Job[break]
+ Seraphine's Outfit

ORIGINAL TEMPLATE BY GUNSMILE

[attr="class","seratest2text"]



Little guy, Bishop called the Obstagoon that was taller than Seraphine herself. She just shook her head, a small amused smile gracing her lips, and began setting up her travel easel. Once complete, she settled onto the blanket to begin sketching.[break][break]
Before she could get too far into mapping out her first painting, however, a small blue blur bounced past her field of vision. A lively little Azuril, she realized. It was sitting right in the middle of her composition. She sighed, which was enough for Rouge to get the hint. He SKETCHED the Azuril's BOUNCE ability and waited a moment as the little water Pokémon scurried closer. He executed BOUNCE with a swish of his tail, and the Azuril was soon paralyzed, a confused expression on its adorable face. Seraphine threw a Pokéball at it, satisfied.[break][break]
"That is the challenge with drawing outside," she commented idly. "Wild Pokémon disturb the peace now and again. Sometimes I like to include them in my landscapes, but today, I was hoping to render the lavender undisturbed."[break][break]
She went back to sketching, but after another long moment, stole a glance at Bishop. "I haven't stopped thinking about the night we met, you know," she admits suddenly. "Your recognition of Shabboneau Castle impressed me. But your name isn't Kalosian - where are you from exactly?" When they'd first met, he had been loath to disclose many details about his true background. They'd been spending time together, however, and nobody else was around. Would he be more forthcoming?[break][break]

[attr="class","seratest2ooc"]
[break]

NOTES

+ Duo Wild (Psychic/Normal)[break]
+ Seraphine's Outfit[break]
+ Seraphine is catching AZURIL![break][break]

Catch Data

BY GUNSMILE

[attr="class","seratest2text"]

Seraphine plucked a glass of rosey champagne from a waiter's nearby platter as he passed, slipping a few bills to him and winking, which caused him to blush before continuing on through the crowd. She sipped the sweet, bubbly drink as she listened to Marza's short and succinct answer to her earlier inquiry. "Everything does have its price," Seraphine noted with a small, musical chuckle in response to Marza's reluctance to go into the details of her life's adventures.[break][break]
"I, too, came to Hoenn for money," she explained nonchalantly. "I was born into it, but my father was the sort of man more willing to gamble away his family's fortune than to spend time with his daughters." She did nothing to mask the bitterness in her tone; ironic, that she should be spending her evening in a casino. How many of the men and women here are neglecting their families? Throwing away the futures of their children? Rocket benefitted from their indulgences, of course. Perhaps the casinos, horse races, and fighting pits her father had been so obsessed with back in Kalos were Rocket-run. Did the organization's reach extend that far?[break][break]
Either way, Seraphine was on their side now - the winning side. Her father had been a selfish idiot full of an insatiable greed that had lost him everything: unlike him, Seraphine had her priorities straight, and knew how to play the game the right way. Her forgeries were not bets left up to chance. Every month, she sent money back to her sisters. She would ensure for them respectable marriages, the best universities, and luxuries befitting noble women of their station, even if her parents couldn't.[break][break]
"I suppose there is more to life than money," Seraphine sighed softly, coming out of her momentary reverie. "I do find meaning in my artwork, regardless of what it sells for." She smiled at Marza, then took another sip of champgane. "You ought to visit my gallery someday."

[attr="class","seratest2ooc"]
[break]

NOTES

+ Mission: Rigged Gacha Rolls[break]
+ Seraphine's Outfit

BY GUNSMILE