is this the skeletal creature mentioned of some reports she'd read? a deoxys, without its human shackle, chases after it. and the rest of it plays out, teasing paranoia out of her. it's an alien, foreign feeling, and it does not sit right in the back of her head. 

so it's ineffectual and easily ignored. she gazes over at her companion.

"what do you make of this so far, admin bee?"

BARNABY FINCH

☉

"it was not a move borne of cowardice," she says with a brow raised. she is no mewling kitten, running back to its mother's teat when the world gets to be too much.

"we find ourselves in a new golden age and these laboratories are the heart of the renaissance. dimensional pockets, new forms of energy, the manipulation of dreams."

her nails tap against her knee. "and so these hallowed, darkened halls are my purpose. i care for little in this world save for its discoveries. cadis knew this. silas knew this." how many others can say they've stomached rocket's changes - its evolution?

declan walsh

☉

the stripping of her title has not deterred her. she has had to be more careful with her letters, and she'd warned not to send anything in return. he hasn't made a move for her extraction either. so she remains vigilant, staying true to the mission. 

like all others, she has poured over barnaby's file. his name hasn't yet surfaced in her notes. she's been busy digesting and cataloguing information missing from the silph database. 

when they load in, she absorbs the information with an avarice that surfaces only in these rare instances. her cold eyes cut to admin bee and then she reaches for the chunk of 'material.'

BARNABY FINCH

touch da chunk

☉

MAY XX 2023

personnel report

oscar clayton : abandoned his position. whereabouts unknown. zapdos in rocket custody.

Elisabeth Fiorelli : underboss. toxicologist. known associate with ana fell . loyal and dangerous.

jayden cross : beast. ruthless. dependable. loyal and dangerous. in possession of a sygna suit.

research report

attached are hastily scrawled documents containing information pertaining to rocket's knowledge of tera crystals, illumina phenomena, and sygna suits. 

lulu's leave has caused complications.

- m

FERNANDO SILPH

☉

MARCH XX 2023

Lulu Flint has abandoned her station. the new head scientist has taken over her work regarding memory and dreams. more information to follow.

anya fowl : recently appointed head scientist. history unknown. untrusted. 

Naomi Sato : head scientist. work revolves around pokemon research & utilization. fascination with the unknown. 

oscar clayton : head scientist. commands the legendary bird, zapdos. no avatarship.

- m

FERNANDO SILPH

☉

this is an enigma for anya. never has she felt emotion strongly enough to rock her to her very core. those she does feel are trickles, echoes of what could have been. they're visible; she knows what her responses should be, but a thick, miles-long wall of glass separates her body from their touch.

leaving her mind quiet and unperturbed, able to focus on questions that matter. 

she is by no means muscular and untangling herself from elisabeth in the bath is no easy feat. but she holds out her hands and her arms. she pats her down with a towel and leads her to the bedroom. she does not bother dressing her.

the silk sheets welcome elisabeth and when she's folded into the bed, anya draws the dark duvet over her. she stares down at her with her cold blue gaze, for a moment only, and then she returns to her desk.

envy noses open the door to the bedroom and leaps gracefully up onto the bed. she curls against elisabeth's back. anya does not notice. instead, she looks down at the parchment, at her shorthand, her pen poised. 

my pain is its pain. my death will be its hibernation.

what will happen, then, to her child, if tapu fini takes back what it believes is its?

the paper is returned to its hiding spot in her drawer. the pen is placed back on the table. anya casts a glance to the slumbering forms on the bed and steps out onto the balcony, withdrawing a marlboro.

the smoke curls away from her cheeks as she ponders the future, and what it means to love a monster. 

Elisabeth Fiorelli

☉

tapu fini is alive. to what extent, anya has no idea. nor can she fathom the weight of its hold on elisabeth. though she assumes the mermaid's hand isn't heavy. wo-chien's influence is far more oppressive. 

anya's slick hands draw away from below elisabeth's waist and trail in looping circles up her sides. elisa snuggles closer and the bath's water laps. there's less of it now; some of it had sloshed out over the sides. but her body is a warm comfort.

"i wish that i could cut your shackles, my dear," she soothes, for what are burdens but shackles to regret and heartache and misery?

"tonight, though, know you may sleep in peace. that fire can't reach you here." 

in her living room, two pairs of yellow eyes blink, manes a soft glow. 

Elisabeth Fiorelli

☉

there is a voracious hunger within elisabeth, one coaxed from anya's slender fingers as the artist skirts over her pale ribs. elisa's dark hair, still wet, drapes over anya's chest as she rests her head. she is pliant, yearning, though anya would not consider her submissive. 

something unfolds as the redhead's hands wander, doting upon elisa as she had several moons ago. her cupped touch, at her chest, twitches suddenly. a short gasp gives away her surprise and anya is very rarely ever surprised. 

it's a jumble of emotions and pictures with a filmy grain laid over them. her lashes flutter shut in concentration, but she dare not stop her intimate touching, for fear they may be the only tether to these insights. 

petals curl, blackened and haunted. something she has never quite experience before knifes through her, making every nerve in her body fire at once. abyssal emotion, powerful enough to drown in, threatens to peel her apart. 

grief, frustration, anger, horror, pain - 

resentment. 

as real as though they have manifested from her own soul, squirted from somewhere within this carapace of hers that has never been able to manage more than brief snippets of lust and desire. 

and yet it is all at once familiar. something cracks. someone moans. there is laughter, on the other side of the horizon. 

as she reaches out, there is a snapping. there is a sudden pressure. the water becomes a selfish enemy. once, she stood before tapu fini and attempted to claim fernando hers. it had punished her, grip tightening until her nose bled. now that same power pulses behind her eyes, forcing them open. 

in the light, she sees an aquatic face in the steam, a shell surrounded by pink. and then it is gone. a light trail of red dribbles down from her nose, over her sweat-beaded lip. she drinks in the air as the lingering emotions on her skin dissipate, a mental disentanglement from elisabeth. 

anya noses the top of elisabeth's head, smelling petrichor. and salt. 

"so loud indeed," she murmurs. "how much you have to bear." 

Elisabeth Fiorelli

☉

this was once a promised haven of sanctity. anya herself had concluded she would only dissect elisabeth's complexities under the strain of the submarine's lights, but this is clearly not the same woman she made that silent promise to. it is with ease and a sense of finality that she turns this warm, quiet room into an experiment. 

she wrings the washcloth and sets it on the lip of the tub. and then she stands, undressing herself quickly. her clothes lay atop elisa's own, cigarette smoke and dragon fire.

a slender foot dips into the water. the other follows suit. her bare legs slide around elisa's sides as she stretches back, resting her head against the back of the tub. her curls dip just slightly, scarlet darkening. 

hands go to elisa's shoulders to coax her back.

"then lay with me. listen to the water, our shifting bodies. your heartbeat and mine. and whisper your wiles, if they're too loud inside."

Elisabeth Fiorelli

☉