[attr="class","hth"]

Not another one.[break][break]

Desmond Kelley pinched the bridge of his nose, releasing an audible sigh as this girl regaled him with her thinly veiled hostility. Only answered to Silas Blackwell, huh? Oh, the naivety. Oh, the deception. “So, you're just here to amuse? I doubt that.” Because a Rocket that was ordered to sit around and wait was no better than a pawn on a shelf. [break][break]

Being told to stay put should have been seen as an insult. “I do hope you've conjured some sort of purpose that you wish to strive for–we all serve him. Keeping his company is not sufficient,” nor was it something that Desmond recommended for anyone, much less a child.[break][break]

He stared at the absol with a familiar gaze; a familiar cruelty. The creature would sense the disturbance, as if Desmond were a man that had wrought disaster–because the invasion of Slateport had been a slaughter of his own design. Silas served the outline. He served the realization.[break][break]

Just a shame the Power Plant had to be fucking destroyed.[break][break]

“If you do not know me, then may I advise that you tread lightly,” he brought down the glass, crossing his arms over his chest. The girl had not dwelt in the company of the Rocket Boss for very long, if this was the case. [break][break]

“Others will not humor your ignorance. I imagine you have already been told this,” because all under bosses served as his lapdogs. They all functioned as pets to be praised... or abused. The constant struggle to earn the attention of the Rocket Boss was beneath Desmond. He did not have to pit himself against others to earn an audience.[break][break]
tags Ophelia Yearwood & SILAS BLACKWELL

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If he were a fool, he would have risen to the challenge.[break][break]

Desmond Kelley stared at the accusing finger; the time bomb that was directed to his chest. A pause. A beat. The scientist could hear his heart thump, processing the venom that was spat against him. It was not the first time his name had been tarnished, but that had been done by a different Blackwell. An older Blackwell. One that had possessed no respect in his eyes.[break][break]

“You do know me,” and he eased his shoulders, letting the shorter man hold him by the reigns. “You know what I want.”[break][break]

His eyes shift, back to the city where the wisps of smoke could be seen rising into the late night sky; burning, smoldering. “He couldn't give that to me. Not in our wildest dreams would we have seen this.” The countless failures kept such visions from being realized. The inadequacy had stifled him as much as it had stifled the storm that was clutched to him. [break][break]

He stared down the bridge of his nose, down to the self-made heir, knowing that the history between them was not so easily buried. “We were both...pent up, wouldn't you say?” It justified their actions. It justified the dishonesty that was now being used against him.[break][break]

Because Rocket could not be lead by any other person. It had to be Silas. It had to be someone that would let the violence win, no matter the cost.[break][break]

“I'll always be here,” not because he was a lap dog; not because someone was holding a gun to his head; “I'll always make it right,” but because he was a cruel man. [break][break]

“I owe that to you.”[break][break]
tags SILAS BLACKWELL

[attr="class","hth"]

He received the same notification; his hands hesitated before he fetched the phone from his pocket, sensing that something was amiss as they both read what had been sent.[break][break]

It was worse than Desmond imagined.[break][break]

Not even the Head Scientist could comprehend what he had read, because it seemed too outlandish to be possible. “They...” His voice trailed, eyes retracing the same message, the same sentence, to reaffirm the status report. They. Broke. The. Power. Plant. They what–[break][break]

The sound of shattering glass reaffirmed his own frustrations. The words once the city is operational ring in Desmond's mind, because it had been the one thing that could have made the victory over Slateport a resounding success. If the city could be claimed and restored to working order, they would have all the resources. They would have the major ports. They would have League HQ under their thumb to rile through and seek all the information that they could ever need.[break][break]

But now, it is lifeless and vulnerable. It would set them days behind schedule. Silas' rage was far more vocalized, but he related with a silent intensity that made his jaw clench until he heard his teeth click.[break][break]

“There was an off switch. A. Bright. Red. Off. Switch.” His nostrils flare. He's familiar with the layout of the facility, because he had been the one to retrieve the blueprints. How could that be so hard? How could that be so impossible to see?[break][break]

These explanations are interrupted when Silas turned to him. Now, the scientist was in proximity to the wrath and he knew to still his tongue. [break][break]

These stupid fucks just ruined his reputation. They had managed to screw up so immensely that it jumped beyond their stations, striking him from the lofty heights in the ranks. “I'll remedy this,” and sensed that the next words would be you fucking better.[break][break]
tags SILAS BLACKWELL

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The arrival of the boss spelled trouble.[break][break]

The other Rocket members clear from the deck upon his arrival, moving into the hull of the ship as if they were preparing to out-wait a storm; Silas emerged with the doom and gloom, but there had been no lightning or thunder. Not yet. That would come with the final assessment, when all of the damage was calculated and each flaw could be seen in agonizing detail.[break][break]

Desmond does not flee from the storm; he welcomed it with a drink. “I'm sure they would have amazed me,” with their profound stupidity. His tone makes this implication clear. The beer he passed was retrieved before Silas delivered his kick, sparing the drink from being shaken.[break][break]

Only one of the targets was apprehended. One out of three. Those numbers were not acceptable. “Reports are still coming in,” and with every success came a new failure. “Waiting for a status update on the power plant,” but they could see from the ship that the city was engulfed with darkness.[break][break]

“Once the city is operational, I'd say this would be a resounding success.” Even with the failures. This was the jewel of Hoenn, and it had been snatched into the hands of Rocket on their first attempt. That was commendable.[break][break]
tags SILAS BLACKWELL

[attr="class","hth"]

If Desmond were made aware of the comparisons Nyx made in her own mind, he would laugh.[break][break]

The man was not a butler. He was far from it. “Hm?” Unable to find Silas in the room, he let his eyes drift back to the child–no, the teenager–as she approached him. The immediate optimism made his hand clench the glass, as he wondered what someone like this was doing in this building. Another child recruited to the ranks? Really?[break][break]

He chugged down the rest of the water, wondering if these desperate souls would have been best left to the streets than ushered into the Rocket's name. Which would be kinder? The Head Scientist cannot say.[break][break]

There was a click as the glass was returned to the counter. “Where's your underboss?” And why were they letting the grunts lounge in this building when there was work to be done?[break][break]
tags Ophelia Yearwood & SILAS BLACKWELL

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They broke the fucking power plant. [break][break]

Desmond Kelley did not have the time to enjoy the spoils that victory brought. One moment, he was sipping champagne as Slateport burned before his eyes. The next? He was flown to the Power Plant, instructed that he was the only one that could restore the structure back to working order because he was one of the few that was qualified to repair it; while the thought of Rocket depending on him was welcomed, the degradation of being a repairman was not. He kept his displeasure reigned. As much as he wanted to vent his frustrations at someone's inability to hit an off switch, he knew that the situation was being handled.[break][break]

He was the fair-haired Rocket member. If he was pampered, then the least he could do was suffer through these small inconveniences; for the organization, he would do anything. It had liberated him. It was the only place that let him be true to the man that he was.[break][break]

Long gone were the suits. Long gone were the vests. Desmond Kelley arrived at one of the few houses that remained standing in a pair of jeans and a white, buttoned up shirt. As one of the few places left standing, it became a hub for the grunts that were passing through. The suggestion of this being a base was only presumed by the innocent, who knew not of what Rocket could do. Grease stained his elbows and his shirt. His polished shoes were scuffed. His hair was askew. He hadn't worked this hard since he had been in his undergrad–and Desmond did not miss it.[break][break]

Straight through the living room. Straight past the table that was drenched with maps that detailed the city. Straight past the child. Straight to the kitchen, to the fridge, where he fetched the tall bottle of water. In the distance, he can hear the rumbling of a petrol powered generator–he'd be damned if he drank something that was lukewarm. He was not an animal.[break][break]

Wait. A child? His eyes could have glazed over as he glanced back into the living room, seeking sight of the only person he could respect at this time; Silas.[break][break]
tags Ophelia Yearwood & SILAS BLACKWELL

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So, Slateport had been a success.[break][break]

Desmond Kelley was not surprised by the results. He sipped from the tall flute glass, tasting champagne as he watched the invasion from afar; a boat, to be exact. As the flames and the destruction were wrought, fellow Rocket elites sipped their drinks, listened to the transmissions, and watched with binoculars to get the juicy details. “Oof. Power went out. That's a damn shame,” he said aloud as the entire urban stretch went dark.[break][break]

Everyone laughed. There was no reason to man the battle stations or direct troops from afar as they had done for the majority of the day–victory was in their hands. Now, it was time to celebrate and let the troops do their looting.[break][break]

And, if everything went perfectly, they would be expecting guests; unwilling or not.[break][break]
tags idk haha

★ lamprey

★ another one

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Everyone had an end; the final curtain call that would signal the conclusion to their story.[break][break]

Some ends came sooner than others. “Stay out of trouble,” and he smiled with a warmth that was rarely seen. Esser was right. They never spent much time with one another. There were reasons for it–he would not disclose what they were. They were best left unsaid.[break][break]

Desmond would take them to the grave, if he were able.[break][break]

Another pokemon was added to her collection. They would be fodder for when the time came. He wished to spare her from utilizing her pets. Those Eevee were harmless, stupid creatures. “You can always call,” but a voice was not always enough. He knows this.[break][break]

As the murder found new pokemon to harass, as the street they walked grew to its end, he took the opportunity to claim the Ivysaur as his own. The whelp could be fashioned into something respectable. There was still time. It was still young. “I suppose the other one can suit your needs,” though he chuckled at the Gloom and its inability to defend itself. “Don't grow fond of them.” They were disposable.[break][break]

Little did he know that he had already made that mistake.[break][break]

tags ESSER BLACKWELL // captured the ivysaur

[attr="class","hth"]It was dealt with.[break][break]

The Kadabra folded beneath the strength of the Bisharp. Be it the blades or the force of the attacks, the psychic pokemon never stood a chance. It crumpled to the ground, bleeding and useless. Life clutched to its frame, if only because Desmond had raised a hand to draw back his pokemon and its brutal tendencies.[break][break]

It was a marvel that it was still clutching to life.[break][break]

“You're persistent, aren't you?” A boot pressed against the Psychic creature. Desmond lorded himself over the beast, watching the tremble of its breath; a wise mind was situated deep in the recesses of its mind. The Kadabra flinched, either from discomfort or the thoughts that it could read from the scientist's mind.[break][break]

He fetched a capsule. “You'll do nicely,” and he dared the pokemon to resist as he dropped the pokeball; death or servitude?[break][break]

The man knows what the pokemon will pick.[break][break]

tags solo

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“Of course,” Desmond felt a smile grace his lips–it was time to fulfill his position.

[break][break]He had a deadline to meet. Some would have crumbled beneath the responsibility–staging an invasion was no simple task. One week would not be enough time for a lesser man. The tasks that awaited him would be countless; but, Desmond had experience. He knew what had to be done.[break][break]

Silas would watch the glint return to the Scientist's eyes; his muse was rekindled. “You know what they say about idle hands,” and he would gesture back to the warehouse. The white van had arrived. The cleaners were here. That is not what he wished to show.[break][break]

“Tell me what you've visualized,” and they could inspect the shipment that had arrived; they could overlook weapons as if they were swatches.[break][break]

Hoenn needed to be redecorated. [break][break]

tags SILAS BLACKWELL