his heart sinks, pushing against the top of his stomach as he nervously stares into silph's surprised visage. there's an instant in which he is convinced that he's read the whole thing wrong, right from the beginning. silph had given him a card to...give in another opportunity? zeke feels himself aching to shift in his seat uncomfortably, but holds out just long enough.

silph's hand reaches out to him over the sleek cafe table; he feels himself exhale in relief. zeke's own hand stretches to meet silph's across the table -- it will become the landmark at which their professional relationship began.

fernando spares no breath, not a moment wasting before he begins talking about his resolve for hoenn. saffron comes up again, and zeke remembers they've worked together before, at least in some form. he has no idea how it ever slips his mind -- saffron was worse than slateport. much worse.

"at least -" the rest of the sentence hangs somewhere in the saffron wreckage that clouds his focus. "we've -- you've -- seen what they're capable of, first hand. not everybody in hoenn can say that." it's a testament to silph's dedication to the cause, one that might be enough to attract a few more faces to his aid.

FERNANDO SILPH

zeke's excited? he goes to shake his head in amusement, seeing this as just another job, but stops. perhaps he is excited. perhaps this is a welcome change of pace, the whole rustic, pastoral thing that's happening here. maybe he's excited!

upon interrogation, zeke is given no opportunity to tell bradley whether or not they should stay in lavaridge or pacifidlog before the smaller man tore off to his bedroom. he has every intention of staying in pacifidlog; the ocean soothes him. upon bradley's return, he is given his opportunity to respond -- not that it matters. bradley has made up his mind. "staying there ought to be good. looks like we're all ready to get a move on?" he gravitates toward the door, resting a hand on the doorknob. it will remain shut until bradley gives him the okay.

zeke has every intention of riding out this weird mixture of relaxed impulsiveness until it dies out somewhere in the middle of the ocean. bringing along a stranger shocks him but does not frighten him. he is only excited.


@spring

zeke's back presses against his chair, arms crossed comfortably despite the stress that burdens him. words flow from silph's mouth - perhaps too many words - but they keep zeke's attention as he studies his acquaintance (no, friend?). it's an unnecessary buildup; silph is perhaps entertaining him. but, at the mention of purpose, zeke's head bobs up and down in slow affirmation for a moment.

"yeah. purpose."

he watches the man's face dip into the crook of his folded fingers, forcing zeke to crack an uncomfortable smile. he's going to make zeke ask. that's fair, considering this meeting was of zeke's request anyways. it's all coy buildup, but zeke's lets himself bask in it for a second before a soft chuckle escapes his lips.

"well, uh, your company." he maintains eye contact in the face of his boldness, holding it just long enough to be deemed acceptable before sipping on his water. he feels the waitress linger in the periphery for a moment before she deems the moment inopportune. "sounds like you know exactly what's wrong with the league, with everything going on right now." the comment is in reference to silph's mention of conflicting views in multi-person ran organizations.

"you've got something in store for hoenn, i can feel it. that's why i want to help you -- if i even can." his skills are nonspecific, but if anybody knows what to do with zeke in silph co., it's fernando eliard silph.


FERNANDO SILPH

the beedrill falls and disappears into a flash of light, his child trainer recalling him. her body rappels upward; she is intent on leaving. he is intent on stopping her.

a hand flicks upward, calling forth the altaria that floats behind him. tamara carries enough strength to pick up her trainer, talons clutching into his shirt hard enough to break skin. they thrust toward @names on the roof to reach her playing field until gravity gives out and their momentum carries them out of the girl's exit in the sky. magnet rise is limited to the room below him, and his knees hit the concrete roof hard before falling to his side. from the hole in the roof, he recalls his croconaw and cryogonal down below.

"what's even the point of taking them? the city's already in fucking ruin!" his voice roars, but the winds are calmer up here than below as the tailwind rages through the HQ halls. sirens sound in the backroom, seemingly coming from everywhere amidst the chaos. flames spit from buildings on the horizon, others crumble. he has not time to take it in as he yells across to the rocket. the shout is frustrated and exasperated as he looks on to the girl. he summons zurich, his electabuzz.

with a quiet thud, the electabuzz makes his presence known. "thunder wave on her!" a paralytic netting forms in between his fingers before a sweeping motion sets the thunder wave off in the direction of @names .



- flies out onto the roof through the hole @names made right via altaria just as the magnet rise sets in
- recalls croconaw and cryogonal, summons electabuzz.
- electabuzz uses thunder wave on @names herself

zeke gets his answer. bradley is excited, and it brings a smile to zeke's face. the stoic look goes by the wayside for childlike joy, or so it seems. he brings himself to his feet, glass of finished off tea on the table beside him as he lets out a huff. taking a moment to look at his bandaged arm, he looks to bradley. "awesome."

his hands clasp together -- he's ready to get moving. "i need to stop at the PC and take out my altaria and yanmega as a means of, you know, getting there. i'm sure either of them could carry you." bradley is pint-sized next to zeke.

"then we can get on the move. shouldn't take too long getting there. if you wanna bring a change of clothes or stuff, you might wanna grab them now. like i said it'll only be a day...i wasn't planning on staying too long."

the rush in his voice stops, and he takes in a deep breath. a chuckle escapes his lips; he feels bad rushing the guy. "sorry. take your time. don't mean to shove you out the door."


@spring

did i fuck up?

the thought clangs around in his now otherwise empty head as he stands waiting for silph for a few more minutes. it's a line he's said to himself numerous times in the past, though this time it feels really real. his fingers play with the lining of his jean pocket. he takes in a deep breath, if only to try and convince himself that he cannot change what's been done.

silph arrives - late, but zeke doesn't care - he is relieved to see him. a nod in his direction is greeting enough as silph opens the door. zeke steps through, an exasperated chuckle arising at the mention of the pokemon they'd gotten at the casino. "yes, they have. thanks." it isn't time for laughing or shooting the shit. their table is ready, reserved on the terrace just off the back end of the cafe. zeke leads them there before taking his seat opposite silph.

"i don't want to waste your time, I'm sure you're busy with all that's happened." zeke tries to recall whether or not he saw silph after they separated at the HQ. he cannot. "i quit with the force. they're fucking useless." a waitress comes by right at the height of his frustration; she's quiet but friendly, dropping off two glasses of water and a promise that she'll be back to take their orders in a few minutes. zeke apologetically nods to her and sips at the beverage.

"...you were right, about the private sector, i think. all the red tape is just...crap."


FERNANDO SILPH

zeke watches bradley marvel at the idea of the beach like it is something from another dimension. he's familiar with the look -- or, at least, the concept of it -- from the days in saffron when he wanted to be anywhere but there. he grins all the while, nodding along as the man before him fantasizes. when he finishes, zeke takes another sip of tea in the transient silence, perhaps for dramatic effect. he can feel bradley's eyes on him.

"come with me then." the suggestion comes out in a tone that reveals just how serious zeke is about the proposal. he takes another sip of his tea -- so sweet. "it won't take long I'm sure. you'd be back within a day..." he's looking around the room again, taking in the coziness of it all. if zeke had grown up in a place like this, maybe he'd never leave either. he certainly can't blame bradley for taking advantage of what he has, even if he has no idea what he's missing.

"you'll get half the pay, plus a free little trip, even if i do all the work. consider it a thank you for stitching me up."


@spring

"if you enjoyed cleaning up shit, then i think we might have an issue."

the glass presses against his lips again, and he sips on the sweet nectar. it's a convenient mask for his mouth, which tugs upward into a small smile as his new cohort makes more than tangible passes at him. the passes do just that -- pass -- his eyes portraying no semblance of picking up the queue. it's cute, perhaps possible, if not for bad timing.

the shift of conversation is welcomed. "somethin' about pokemon trying to eat away at pacifidlog town." bradley's piqued interest, like his previous passes, do not get by zeke, though it comes across as rather obvious. eager for more concrete information, zeke digs his good hand into his pocket and pulls out his phone. "yeah...mareanies are compromising pacifidlog town's structural integrity. guess that's what you get for building a log village out in the ocean..." his voice trails off for a moment, eyes searching for something invisible on the floor as he ponders the concept. it really is silly.

"you ever been to pacifidlog? it's pretty neat."


@spring

bradley is quick to snatch the glass away and fuel him up more, zeke's eyes hungrily watching the tea pour into the glass. he takes it back with a nod, satiated enough now to sip it like a polite, respectable human being. his nod continues, this time to confirm that he's listening to bradley. he knows next to nothing about breeding and credits the simplicity of the duty to bradley's oversimplification for zeke's sake. nevertheless, it sounds enjoyable.

"i'm sure it's not all fun and games all the time." his tone is assuring, knowing full well that it is a job he was never suited for. the question naturally bounces back to him.

"i'm a cop, actually. over in mauville, so not too far from here. though it's certainly a world away in some senses..." his voice drifts off into thought, the statement meant to be a comparison of lavaridge's more rustic charm to mauville's bastardized futuristic feel. god, he hates it there.

"i was up in the mountains training." it comes out cooler and more mystifying than it really was. "came down here to lavaridge to rest up before heading off on a league assignment. gotta find any ways i can to get out of mauville."


@spring i kind of hate this reply i'm sorry i'm just so tired!!

his answer comes from @devon before she disappears into a stairwell. he follows, expecting something better than what greets him. battle ensues, numerous league members combating a child and struggling. @yiannis' voice rises above the rest, a garchomp appearing by his command to bring the world around them back into order through its controlled chaos within the sandstorm.

zeke wastes no more time -- he's done enough of that today. a quick flick of the wrist summons his cryogonal, its frosty figure a means of zeke's introduction to the battle. from the slit of its mouth, selzius summons an ice beam for the beedrill.

ian screams again, more anger in his voice than before. it booms over the PA system, the action meant to simultaneously bring everyone up to speed. dahlia goode's absence from the third floor is news, but he makes no effort to leave now. it seems implied that dahlia is with another league member; perhaps she's safer there than she would be with zeke.



- goes to the third floor with emma and ian
- summons cryogonal, uses ice beam on beedrill
- this is filler i'm so sorry

he owes the dryness of his chuckle to his own concentration on bradley's stitching. the process is mesmerizing as bradley's dancing fingers enrapture the vulnerable officer. he laughs softly once again, this time at the quality of the job as they sit in silence and let the rancher do what he did not realize ranchers could do. with the final snip of the line and the last traces of crimson off his arm, zeke shakes his head.

"wow...thanks, bradley." he watches the boy - no, man - wash his hands of the work he's just completed as if it was a necessary daily chore. "you could do that for a living. if i had the money, i'd hire you to follow me around and fix me up." he wriggles his fingers and turns his arm over again and again as he closely inspects the closed wound.

bradley's potential pass at zeke goes unnoticed while he looks at his arm, only hearing something about a drink. "that would be great." he calls into the next room, tearing his gaze away from the arm to look back at the house around him. it truly is a beautiful home, certainly outsizing any place he's lived in by more than double. "lovely home." its a phrase he's heard people say on tv. he wonders if he sounds weird saying it.

a glass of tea is in front of him; he nods and takes it, the saccharine taste wowing him on the first sip. how much of its goodness is due to dehydration goes unknown, but zeke doesn't care. thirst overpowers manners, and he downs the whole glass within a few seconds.

embarrassment seems to line his eyes when he takes another look at the kind host. "this stuff is amazing."

"so you guys are ranchers? like, breeders?"


@spring

the blanketing grey clouds that dim lilycove's atmosphere are befitting in the wake of rocket's attack on slateport. what happened was unspeakable, and yet zeke rainey finds himself desperately wanting to talk it out of existence. he can do no such thing -- slateport is fallen, and he was there to watch it turn black.

it was the league's responsibility to protect its most important piece of the economical puzzle of hoenn, and they rolled over. and the police? they were laughable. zeke knows he was not much better, though to try and fail is better than to fail to try at all.

within 3 days of his escape from the siege, zeke's uniform was hanging in some dusty closet in the back of the mauville police department, his letter of resignation gingerly resting on top of a stack of papers on his boss's desk. he pulled out the business card from silph and dialed it on his way out the front door. his resignation is immediate, a weight off his shoulders.

fuck the bureaucracy of it all.

it feels strange to meet in lilycove; zeke wonders just how much this has impeded silph co.'s activity as he paces outside of the cafe at which he's agreed to meet silph. how he has any time at all to entertain zeke's employment shocks him, but perhaps desperate times call for desperate measures and an extra dose of muscle on the right side of the fight. he practices what he'll say when silph arrives.

suddenly, as if by force, the lines that he rehearses for the pitch stop altogether. the pacing stops. "oh...my god?"

the meaning of regirock's vision elucidates alarmingly quickly, the shock of its prescience materializing on zeke's face in the form of a frozen gaze into the ground. the black tendrils... silph tower...did regirock know rocket would come?

and was he supposed to know, too?

FERNANDO SILPH