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Thinking of all the money he could achieve while allowing his previous criminal history to flourish was distracting when it came to signing away his life, but, then again, he wholly underestimated the syndicate as a whole. By all means, he was a loyal member to the gang he once called his home and brotherhood, and he had no plans to desert the ability to become filthy rich on the opposing side; but with all the motives the emotionless man stated he felt like he was doing the right thing. Ushering in a new era devoid of filthy, corrupt scum was enough to get him to sign the papers without reading, even if he wanted to play a little to get more benefits. If only he knew.[break][break]

The little game of pattycake he played with his Darumaka and his cigarette was cut short by Howard's acceptance of the terms, which brought a smile to his pale cheeks. "Fuck yeah, come visit me anytime," he said with delight, scribbling his signature across the paper, ".. I've always thought of how I'd do it again, how I'd listen to whispers without flaw. It's gonna be so much fun." If only his wanted ad were tucked away in the folder, Howard would know that his bounty was quite large for blackmailing high Unovan elites with sensitive information. It would have given context to what he mentally acknowledged he'd try to never let happen again.[break][break]

"Oh yeah? Now you've got me curious, is it some sick fuck trap door to a cellar or some shit?" He asked with a chuckle, scooping up the fire type to rest in his palms.

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Dropping the bobagate cup without a care in the world, the partial enthusiasm of Vanessa Kingsley's was accompanied by a shiver down his spine; even within his drunken stupor, he recognized that feeling everywhere, that sensation of being watched from across a room. Miniscule blurriness prosperous within his vision, in all that soul searching his crimson eyes met with the twitching of Troy MacQueen's eventually. Before he could shoot the guy a wave and a grin, though, he was already on his way to being gone. It was a peculiar event, enough to distract him from the white elephant gift that had made his way into his hands for the time being.[break][break]

"Do you know that guy? He was eyeing us a bit," he pointed toward him as he walked off to the exit, a brief chuckle escaping his lips, ".. looked pretty stressed, quite cute though. Is he single?" As he had already drunk quite more than his share, Aloe's focus on the exterior of those around him flourished much more than he normally showcased.. and hell, it was a party, and wild shit went down at all the parties he was used to. Strumming his tattooed fingers through his long ponytail, the smile on his face grew as the blondie invited the nearby stranger to their upcoming gambling fest. Just as unaware of Troy's jealousy as he was the remnants of tapioca meeting the strands of his hair.[break][break]

Eyeing Aidan Hereford up and down, a nod followed the invitation of the ringmaster's. "Hell yeah, come gamble with us! Don't have to front the big dollars if you're more fond of pretty pennies." He encouraged, as more the merrier was indeed one of his definite virtues. The intoxication ran quite deep as hugged the still-wrapped present, definitely in need of someone else to lead the way through all the chatter and endless fashion.

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So many emotions ran wild through his mind as he played his little game with Elisabeth Fiorelli, grinning from ear to ear as her fingers graced the tattoo spanning upward to his chin. He presumed her laughter and 'physical affection' was brought on by a mutual feeling of attraction, looking into her eyes with a partially drunken stupor, silent as he soaked in her every word. But the osculation he expected was a deposit of a crumbled-up plastic drink in the hand rather than on the lips, tapioca pearls wandering down his arm in the slush. All he could do was laugh in amusement, partially invigorated and partially disgusted.[break][break]

"So lucky."

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He expected a woman of such a prolific, poisonous nature to be ugly on the inside, but did she believe herself to be ugly on the outside, too? Or maybe she had picked up all the brain cells that he'd lost with all that pregaming, who knew? A part of him wanted to tear away that pretty shell of confidence she presented herself with piece by piece, but he knew his place here at the bar and as a fresh recruit. That was a thought he'd wish to entertain later if they crossed paths, even if the other half of him sat there like an entertained, infatuated Poochyena. He watched her closely as she walked away, sparking up a cigarette after downing more of his drink.[break][break]

Most of the attendees of the party seemed to be off in their worlds now, or at least the ones that were around to watch that underboss do that. As the electronic pokemon whirled around the partygoers and the announcement of the kiss cam was made, he laughed a bit more, waving his hands to essentially get it to fuck off. "We do shit the organic way, fuck a kiss cam," he chuckled, looking to Vanessa Kingsley with clear drunkenness in his eyes, ".. tryna hit the slots? We could pick up a few others on the way, assuming they can hold a conversation longer than two minutes."[break][break]

Getting used to having a melting, leaking cup of hate in his hand wasn't something he'd imagined this night would be made of. But he was more focused on the cravings of alcohol and gambling to give a care.

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Sipping on the boba tea that was brought to him by Xiura Balfaltin's Hatterene, he savored the taste with a laugh of joy before he was to taint it, marked by Vanessa Kingsley's enthusiasm. "That's all you," Aloe said with a grin, ".. fuck it, we ball." Popping the lid off of the container of tea, he delicately removed one of the flasks from his dress pocket and emptied the contents inside, causing the slush to turn into a weird mush. All the while he listened to the curious words of Elisabeth Fiorelli, bringing his eyebrow to rise. Had she been one of the gang members back home, he would have simply thrown another flask to tell her to get drinking. But alas, he was at the bottom of the totem pole once again, and respect had to be made in the fun he wished to have.[break][break]

"Not gonna lie, I see a hot person, I talk to em'. People like us, ones blessed with the look, should only associate with one another," he said softly, taking a sip of the vibrant concoction, ".. but a pleasure regardless, Elisabeth Fiorelli." The thought of sucking up to the elites of the organization was a laughable offense in his eyes, one that he could never see himself entertaining. Sure, some moments would inevitably call for it- but it was a habit of his to get people talking, hand in hand with his prowess in the arts of espionage. It also didn't help that he was aware of her outward criminal history, it was all so ironic talking to those who delved deeper than all his previous, Unovan acquaintances.[break][break]

The cheers of Aurelie Lefevre brought the opportunity to leave a little cherry on top. "To new beginnings, and all the jackpots in the world." He said to the poisoner with a wink, raising his now dented boba cup. The alcohol in his system led him to want to play the slots, but there was still so much to learn, and so many minds to get to know! Across the room he noticed howard slayte, wondering how many papercuts he'd accrued since their little conversation. What a babe.[break][break]

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Though Aloe had been falling into the pit of reclusiveness, his confidence had been unable to falter due to his excitement for a well-deserved outing and the blessings of pregaming before he arrived. His dress brought him to feel as if he was serving complete cuntery in the best of ways, arriving at the door with a wagon on wheels pulled by the EXTRASENSORY of his bell companion. Scanning the crowd for a moment as he walked down one of the makeshift pathways with walls of bodies, he walked to the festive tree as if he had been walking a high fashion runway, allowing the eyes of any potential beholders to seep in the winding textiles and excessive tattoos sprawled across his visible sternum.[break][break]

The gift was placed unwrapped, and his curious tattoo pop-up stand soon flourished in one of the corners. It was one of his generosities for those that happened to belong just as he did now, a flipbook of simple designs that would not take long to bestow upon the skin of others. Adorned with the Chingling sitting politely in a little open box, there was a sign claiming that if one were to be interested, they could smack the pokemon around to make it chime. His bell and wind chime pokemon were his babies, yes, but this one was a little peculiar fucker. Perhaps born too close to the sun, for its brain cells were indeed lacking.[break][break]

Just like his, as the tattoo artist wanted to bask in all the potential interactions with all these wildly attractive, refined casino dwellers. But where to start? One of the places to get drinks would be the best bet, alcoholic or not. "Cute outfit, handsome," Aloe winked at schuyler tate as he walked to the boba attraction, alcohol wafting within his bloodstream with each step he took. As he arrived at Xiura Balfaltin's tea stand, he caught that one of the decadent women was asking for alcohol, unaware of her prominence as she was the lack of intoxicants being served. At least, at this particular attraction.[break][break]

He initially tried to sit on the chair, but his dress of choice had not allowed such a feat, so he leaned on the edge of the table instead. "Taro, please," he said to the staff, rummaging through the deep pockets at his side, ".. and for you, if this is what you're looking for." Pushing one of his tiny, crimson flasks filled with tequila across the table to Elisabeth Fiorelli, he figured there would be no harm in giving a woman so stunning what she was looking for. Besides, he had at least six more in those deep ass pockets. He planned on dumping one into his drink, so why not offer to share the experience of finding out what tequila tastes like in boba tea?

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Aloe was used to hearing the shpeal of his craft being far too permanent for some, though he never quite heard the excuse of being an academic. Hell, he could tattoo a whole periodic table of dumb ass rocks across a professor's ass cheeks if he wanted to, if they wanted to; it wouldn't be the first time he helped an archeology student pass his test with a tattoo of identifications, after all. He looked at the ugly fish with a silly little smile and tongue poking out of his lips as the admin spoke, soaking in every detail with a smile painted across his pale cheeks.[break][break]

Some of the things that crept out with Howard's cigarette smoke needed a bit of clarification, a bit of reassurance. "I'm gonna be a little needy, babe," he said softly, putting out the remnant of his cigarette on the Darumaka's forehead, ".. my shop and I have an intimate relationship, one that does and will continue to hear many whispers. Team Rocket can own it on paper, sure. But I'm its sole operative and will be until the end of time, it's very correct." His words had a sting woven within them, drawn out by his selfishness. It was his pride and joy, he couldn't think of it being any other way.[break][break]

"It will be kept afloat in exchange for my loyalty, and I expect fruitful compensation with each whisper I unveil to the organization regarding my clients and what leaves their lips." He said, rubbing the ash around the forehead in the shape of a cross. "I have not and will not work without double the benefit I'd be getting working independently, without all this." Looking at the paper and clicking the trigger of the pen provided against it, he considered just what would happen if he refused, if his demands were not met. He was in the den of the snakes, a crimson viper amongst them adorned with golden scales. Loyal, but with a monetary price.[break][break]

The paperwork guy didn't seem the type to blow his brains out, though, at least not at face value.

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Not only was Howard in his paperwork arc, but he was in his blushing arc too! It was quite the cute sight, one that brought Aloe to smile and tap his wiry fingers on the table more and more in anticipation. He nodded at the confirmation of his file and the thought of his safe houses being breached, he had all the more experience in that with his gang activities that shrouded his past. If he was going to be getting paid the big bucks, surely he'd at least try to figure out who happened to be responsible for such misdoings, even if his specialty was digging into others until nothing was left.[break][break]

The tattoo artist wanted all that burnt money to go to him instead of to waste, it was only fair for someone able to retain such standards of beauty and attraction, or at least that's what he wanted to think. But the conversation shifted to his business before he could think of a witty response; it was surprising to think there weren't many other tattoo artists at the rocket table yet, especially due to their stereotypical nature. "It's in Lavaridge, tucked right up against the mountain," he said softly, puffing his cigarette, ".. my bookings aren't too bad this time of year, with the holidays approaching and all."[break][break]

Potentially grafting ink into the skin of like-minded individuals was appealing, as there was no need to pry other than mere curiosity. "Why, are you looking to get a piece, cutie?" He asked with a smile, his eyelashes fluttering with a gentle gaze.

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The thought of letting him be the one to cook was much more appealing, for despite how confident he wished to come off when it came to cooking, he knew the steaks would end up burnt if he dared to try. Especially as Kazimir seemed so versed in it, marked by his words; a guy with a heart of nature, it only seemed natural. Aloe could only envision it for now, but he craved it more than ever, the imagined fragrance of the spices filling his shattered heart.[break][break]

Distractions like these filled the cracks, perhaps fleeting, perhaps forever. He wished for the latter above all else, if the universe were to shed a tear of luck, a miracle in resonance with his wish to curb such loneliness. But the aspiring champion's encouragement made him smile, a blush forming on his pale cheeks in excitement and satisfaction, heightened by the alcohol. Perhaps a chase would be much more fulfilling than instant gratification. "I'm so fucking down," he said, stumbling in drunkenness while gathering his things in his bag, ".. text me when you'd like to, literally whenever you want. Here's my card, it has my number on it." Rummaging through his bag, he pulled out a Chimecho ribbon-shaped card that advertised his tattoo shop, with his name and number sprawled across the back.[break][break]

"I'm so sleepy." He laughed, mumbling to himself as he retained his pokemon in their respective orbs and released another, a Claydol. "Hope I could be enough, none of the Minior ended up showing themselves. Gonna go get some sleep now, I can't wait to taste your cooking." And with a wink and a blown kiss, Aloe dissipated into thin air, whisked back home by a channeled TELEPORT all the way to his bed. All he could think about was how dreamy Kazimir was in his drunken stupor, mildly infatuated, full of eagerness and anticipation.

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Aloe had been able to pick up on such eccentric confirmations that Mika indeed thought of her all the time, as did he when it came to such a soul as Ivy's. Though the loss that came with the ceasing of their relationships brought different emotional reactions, or so he presumed; the ranger seemed to still be in high spirits and able to maintain a friendship with them, but the tattoo artist? All he could feel was bitterness and resentment for the one he once loved, the one he still loved, delicately woven with a wish that the past would not have been so cruel in splitting them apart. It was all Ivy's fault that the two had split, due to his reckless endeavors.[break][break]

He was jealous that his client did not have to face such things, but it was an indicator of how vastly different their lives were and are. But he wished not to dwell on such things when such an innocent chit-chat was going so well, hiding the ticking of his mind with cigarette smoke. "Love doesn't fade easily, and that's okay," he said softly, forcing a smile with sly nature, ".. and if it ever rekindles or not, I have no doubts you'll find happiness in whatever happens." It wasn't like she was asking for advice, so he wouldn't be one to give it. But what advice could he ever give, as he was now love-starved, touch-starved, longing to feel the love he once felt in the bitterness that now prospered? And it didn't help he was quite tired, yawning every few moments.[break][break]

"Shall we get back to the Talonflame's flames?" He spoke as he stood, putting his cigarette into the ashtray before him. It felt quite ironic now, as the only thing that was left in her tattoo was the flickering blaze that poured outward from the wings. Just like the dreamy desire for love that burned inside of him, the only thing left from back home; and no matter how much he wished the flame would stifle, it continued to burn, yearning. The one thing he'd never wish to share with another, as it was ultimately uncomfortable, threatening how he wished to carry himself and present himself to the world.

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Placing one of the cigarettes between his lips, Aloe wondered how he could play around with the paperwork guy's mind; he was one to indulge, sure, and his request to avoid burning down his office brought a chuckle with the smoke. This was none other than one of the largest networks of criminals he'd met, but it was difficult for him to subside such a nature, a craving to have a little fun with each interaction. Such things brought nothing other than fruitful blessings in his past, one way or another- a hint at who to avoid, or perhaps a clue for who he'd get along nicely if his stay were to be eternal.[break][break]

He grinned as the man asked what brought him to join Team Rocket, tapping his wiry nails on the table while meeting Howard's gaze. "You," he answered softly, taking a long drag of the cigarette, ".. criminals are way hotter than men you'll find on the streets, wouldn't you agree?" The paperwork guy wasn't necessarily bad-looking when the tattooist got a good look at him, but he couldn't help but let out one of those mixes of laughter and coughing brought about by the smoke, even if he tried to retain it. A lie in good fun didn't seem like it would hurt. Though he'd assumed joining such an organization was of a serious nature, he wanted to have a laugh to distract any anxieties he figured he'd face otherwise.[break][break]

"Fucking with you," he continued, flicking the ash onto the floor below, ".. was approached by that emotionless guy, never could catch his name though. He said I'd be able to make a pretty penny using my tattoo shop as a front for gathering information, those of the league have a habit of oversharing when getting ink." If the guy in his paperwork arc had a copy of his criminal record from Unova, he'd surely see that his gang activity and reason for being currently wanted overseas proved his experience doing just that but for another.

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Aloe wondered what it would be like having knives for legs, watching the swarm of wild Lokix run around attempting to assault innocent onlookers of the tunnel. Would it be a scenario of sitting around waiting for ropes to swing upon, delivering delicate slices against the skin, or would it be a game of balance like ice skating? Watching the bug types run around in his peripheral, the tattoo artist continued to doodle on the surface of his tablet, hoping to capture the sharpness of the knives in one of the designs.[break][break]

It was the next design after that commission of a KAMEN RIDER that one pale guy wanted, a rather intricate piece for something so lame. But all was fair in the tattoo business as it was in life. Throwing a pokeball into the frey to catch a better glimpse of the detail, he watched as it rolled toward one of the curious species. Hopefully one wouldn't cut the ball in half if he ended up lucky.[break][break]

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Sootopolis was everything Aloe had expected once he'd made it past the guard turrets with Zev Harcourt, a sight just as beautiful as the feeling of being granted access to a place he once thought he'd never be able to see. But the beauty he found in the streets of azure and snow white was fleeting, for it was just another vibrant geographical location on the endless map of the world. Some now saw it to be a stain of shit being that it was in control of Rocket, but of course, it could never be; he figured the real shitstain would be the paperwork the beast had alluded to, which led him to an admin's office after a tad bit of screening and accomplice down the corridors.[break][break]

"Sup," he said, closing the door behind him after his entrance, ".. word has it you're in a paperwork arc, mind helping me with mine? Was told I'd be getting paid for being a whisperer, just have to complete some forms and all, I guess. Aloe Eon." Placing the Darumaka once within his arms on the table and removing a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, he slid them across the table with a lighter just in case this guy was a fiend, perhaps the same as him. It was more of an ask for permission to indulge, but he'd figured the worst that could happen was a no, which would soon lead to letting the fire type eat the pack.[break][break]

This supposed Howard looked like a cigarette eater though, at least, at face value.

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