There is a hidden warmth in whatever passes between the siblings, invisible to anyone else who happens to spy their interaction. He gives a curt nod in acceptance of her thanks, and the smile could be interpreted as reactionary — it is Lulu Flint who would know the rarity of such a smile.

So, too, does he recognize it in her... and the look that comes after, both foreign. In the latter, he sees a reflection of himself.

"Have you ever drawn samples from Pokemon before?"

Gavin approaches the silver Corviknight with syringe in hand. There was no need to sedate the obedient creature; though it crows softly in discomfort as the needle slides beneath its steel feathers and punctures skin, it does not fight him.

The underboss leans close to the bird and murmurs something unintelligible, tone apologetic, before he plucks one of Corviknight's wing feathers. He holds the silver specimen up to the light, marveling it, before gesturing to the shadow Corviknight he'd left for Lulu to handle.

"It shows a unique ability to shed its feathers I've not seen from this one."

"Like this. Watch."

With steady hands, he demonstrates the process on his cooperative Corviknight. When he is done, marveling at the silver feather in the light, he gives a regretful shake of his head.

"Not constantly, per se. Its feathers take time to regrow, though they do appear to do so at an accelerated rate." A soft huff passes his lips. "I wish I could create more of them. If only shadow Pokemon were better understood... to answer your question, that's exactly why we're doing this."

After quickly labelling the samples in small, neat print, he refrigerates them and turns back to Lulu Flint.

"Few know the formula for Rocket's shadow machine. Those few are unable to be contacted, for one reason or another." He regrets that, at the time, his clearance had not allowed him access. He had not expected Cadis to fall ill, or he might have asked for the formula before it was too late. "I want to fix that. Recreate it, or else create a new strain of the toxin. Pull one of its feathers, as well," he says, of the shadowed Corviknight, "but do be gentle."

Gavin's gaze glints dangerously at the mention of Alek Xanders. If his sister spoke highly of someone, it meant only good things. His lips purse. Ethical reasons.

"Bring him in, if you can." It's not an order. Lulu was head scientist, not a recruiter, and Gavin wouldn't see her take an unnecessary risk. If she believed in this man, however... "Tell him that Rocket has no such qualms."

Corviknight stirs beneath Lulu Flint's touch as her fingers slide beneath its metal to touch the surprisingly warm, vulnerable flesh beneath. Muscles tense reflexively as the feather is plucked, but the sedative is a powerful one and the shadow Pokemon's slumber persists.

Gavin's smile grows to match the wicked gleam in his eyes. "I look forward to it."

His own feather is sealed within a bag which he labels, then turns it to his sister so that she might replicate the style. C-001FE. A feather plucked from the first Corviknight. "Just add an S in front, to tell them apart. You'll draw the blood, next; we've got to refrigerate it as soon as it's taken, to preserve the quality of the sample."

Having demonstrated the process earlier, with his own bird, he gestures to the empty syringes and vials set aside for their task.

"Perfect," Gavin confirms.

"Don't worry, I've saved you the trouble of taking stool samples." He flashes Lulu Flint a cheeky grin, though he isn't joking. They were stored separate from the blood, and he gestures to the unit that contained them. He takes a swab from inside each bird's beak, the label's end reading 'SA' for 'saliva'. With the samples carefully arranged and stored, Gavin turns his attention to the lab itself.

"Though I could chance the analysis myself, I don't want to take unnecessary risks." He wanted this done right, his own pride aside. He was out of practice in the labs thanks to his duties as underboss, and it was time to delegate. "Call in one of the lab techs to run the analysis. This project priority, unless there's something Walsh or Chu-e Choi need."

Gavin frowns, noting the language.

"They aren't machines," he says, resting a hand on the bird's chest and feeling it rise and fall with shallow breaths. "They're biological in nature, so far as we've been able to tell. At least, all of mine are." He shrugs. "Perhaps there might be a difference in the genetic structure of something like Metagross, or Porygon — this one, though, it's flesh and blood."

He gestures to the fridge where they'd stored the samples; inside, vials of Corviknight's blood were as red as any other.

His frown deepens with confusion, brow furrowing, but a small smile tugs at the edge of his lips when she clarifies. It reminds him of when they were kids, always confusing one another with their particular trains of thought.

"Ah, well, I'd imagine you've got the clearance to have a look at it, now. I've seen it... not that I know much of its inner workings. That's kind of the point of all this."

He retracts his hand from the bird and gently taps it with a pokeball, returning it to stasis. The silver bird remains, its sharp beak mere inches from Gavin's face as its beady eyes train on the gestures of his hands.