as they pass the dead, one thought crystallises with a newfound clarity; isn't this loss of life the better of the available options? to burn out in a blaze seen across the region rather than to live out lives in monotonous drudgery?

and at least the hoennians get a wall to remember those they've lost.

"you have good recollection," dominic says instead, his scrutinising glance toward marcel near lost in the gloom. he hesitates before speaking again, contemplative this time. "how well do you remember the whole thing?"

dominic glances follows marcel down the grassy bank, wrinkling his nose at the noxious smell of the tainted water. corpses of what appear to be pokemon litter the disturbed sand. dominic narrows his eyes and tries to pick out navy scales and red spines among the heaps.

marcel maeda

PREMIUM GACHA
redeeming from pp 99, ice type
thread here ty!

REGULAR GACHA
purchasing 5 for 250pd
thread here ty!

dominic’s eyes narrow and he parts his lips, though the accusation on the tip of his tongue left unvoiced. marcel knows how to do his job - but he does it with such resentment, as though lead weights are attached to every limb.

"sure," dominic says instead, arching a doubtful eyebrow as he reaches into a pocket to withdraw a pair of gloves which he summarily pulls on.

"that fucking dead druddigon shouldn’t be too hard to find." the underboss’s voice is tight - they shouldn’t be the ones having to dig through corpses to recover someone else’s mistake and yet apparently there’s no one else qualified.

marcel maeda

the void resting behind dominic's ribcage yawns at marcel's somber expression. he is unsurprised to find himself apathetic; the feeling is a numb ache that spreads through to his fingertips - whatever kanto had injected into his veins is missing here.

he breathes out slowly, a rattling exhaled sigh. "we'll comb through the area and leave." dominic moves as though to continue forward but instead inclines his head to face marcel.

"could be quicker if you just wait for me here." his tone, impassive and distant, belies the only kindness he can extend.

marcel maeda

they'll never recover all the bodies. the path leading toward the city is a mass grave; the dead are swallowed by corrosive waters and trampled into the mud.

dominic eyes the names etched on the monument impassively - he knows the list is incomplete. some names will be lost here, too. and that's good, that's why they're here; to recover any identifying traces of their number, to erase rocket's presence entirely.

the league erected a monument already, but the smell of blood and rot is still heavy in the mauville foothills as they approach the marker. dominic's lip curls in disgust and he nudges the shell of a cracked pokeball capsule with the toe of his boot - whatever was once inside must be dead now - but he proceeds forward in silence, regarding marcel out of the corner of his eye.

for once, dominic finds that he has nothing to say.

mission
marcel maeda

dominic follows marcel's gaze to the grunt, the sharp edge in his smile softening to something superficially pleasant. he begins to straighten but pauses mid-way to reposition the sleeping arcanine's head onto its hefty paw. its sleep disturbed, the pokemon growls and curls against the nearest source of warmth - marcel's legs.

dominic quirks his brow as he circles around the table to the doorway, clapping a hand on marcel's shoulder for a moment. "look after the dog for me," he murmurs as he leaves the admin to his thoughts.

marcel maeda

"i can't tell you what to put in it, marcel. that's against protocol," dominic says slowly, as though speaking to a child.

his smile turns to something like a smirk, but this time the mockery isn't directed at the admin. "but yes - include it. not like anyone but declan reads those anyway."

marcel maeda

dominic gives a sharp exhale of breath - an amused scoff. the artificial creature when put in contrast to everything else on the field looks so very small, and yet the size of a beast ultimately means nothing; thinking back on it, the illusion of power is the greatest deception.

"huh. you sure were lucky," dominic begins, voice measured and prosaic even when his expression borders on a self-satisfied smirk. "that i was there."

marcel maeda

MIMIKYU
DISGUISE
play rough shadow claw shadow sneak wood hammer burning jealousy copycat

-10pd

mirth flickers in dominic's eyes and then quickly dies away like a doused flame. "you know i won't read it," he says slowly.

"will i get to hear about your feral pokemon or about our incompetent members too?"

marcel maeda

dominic lets his smirk - something sharp and leering - grow wide. this time he doesn't stifle his laughter, humourless and dry as it is.

"is that right?" he drawls, eyes narrowing even while his smile remains frozen in place. marcel is right; dominic won't let go when he tastes blood. "and what does that look like to you?"

marcel maeda

dominic regards marcel for a heartbeat, his smile turning thin and then fading entirely. even this - prompting marcel to pause, to look away - doesn't really feel like a victory.

"did it look like i was enjoying it?" he prompts after a beat passes. dominic parts his lips to continue - acerbic comments about the explosion that threw them all to the ground or about marcel's silvally rest on the tip of his tongue.

marcel maeda