"Hey, Djall."

Gavin greets the hound with soft familiarity, reaching to scratch the beast between its menacing horns. As he and Emma Wolfe let their territorial Lycanroc share the bed with them, he was no stranger to ferocious breeds of canine.

As he expects, Lulu Flint picks up on the hint immediately.

"Coffee," he requests, and then, "League knows about Lugia. Can't be too safe; I'm burning the alias."

His gaze wanders her space shamelessly, scrutinizing.

He minds. Addiction flares like an old wound, gnawing in the back of his thoughts. A cigarette sounded like a really good way to take the edge off his fucking stress right now, and if he just asked to borrow one—

His hand twitches, subtle. He shakes his head. "I don't mind."

In spite of the cigarette smoke that wreathes her, Gavin sits next to her at the bar and leans his weight against his elbows. It felt good to be off his feet; it felt as if he hadn't taken a moment to breathe since everything had happened.

"Yveltal happened." He blinks, slow. His eyes are tired. "You know about Yveltal?"

Gavin hadn't until Walsh had started talking about Xerneas and he'd done cursory research into the fairy legend. Its counterpart was the god of destruction, or perhaps death, the horrific harbinger who'd sought to bring their doom.

"Really."

It's a relief, at least, that he doesn't have to explain it to her. Made sense that she knew, in retrospect. He almost misses the science department, the wild excitement at the discovery of something knew.

"It attacked us," he says without fanfare. Cigarette smoke finds its way into his nostrils, activating an old ache. He picks at a nail as if to distract himself from the cravings, but it doesn't help. "League was buying our bullshit, and all. Except for Delarosa, but I'm going to deal with him." It's the gaze of an underboss that narrows, cold. "Might've made it out unscathed if Yveltal hadn't flown in like a Zubat from the underworld. It went mental attacking everyone around the tree."

Funny, Gavin thinks, how Darkrai used to frighten him. Its presence now is oddly comforting; though it does not speak, there is an understanding that passes between them. It was Rocket's ally.

Gavin inclines his head to it, acknowledging.

"Not sure. If it can speak, it said nothing to us." Lugia, on the other hand, had not hesitated to make the whole route aware of its blistering rage. If Darkrai was ice, Lugia was blazing, shadowed fire. "It attacked the tree."

As far as to what effect the attacks had on Xerneas' artifact, he couldn't say.

"Yeah, we got it." Coffee is a more soothing scent than the cigarette smoke that aches in his lungs. "Still not entirely sure what the boss wants it for. He tell you?"

Immortality? He hadn't considered it.

He does, now, mulls it over as a mug of hot coffee finds his hands. The burn of it against his skin, his scars, is grounding.

"Then I suppose we'd have an immortal leader." So long as he wasn't susceptible to assassination, anyway. He seems surprisingly all right with the concept, indoctrinated into Rocket as he was, but gives pause. "So long as he remains the same, I don't think it would be a problem."

Unspoken implication is clear to one who'd been raised with Gavin. He leads, I'll follow.

But then, "If he doesn't... hm."

He lifts the mug to his lips, lets liquid scald his throat.

"No," Gavin agrees, "it doesn't."

A soft laugh escapes him when asked of his legendary partner, a stirring in his thoughts at the sound of its name.

"It made very clear to Yveltal that it would not see me harmed." The smile that flickers across his lips, however brief, is more genuine an expression than most in Rocket would ever see. He would never let his walls down completely, but for Lulu Flint they were easier to scale. "That's how they know what I am, and why I'm moving."

Yet in spite of his annoyance toward Yveltal for forcing its hand, he bears no resentment for his furious patron.

"It's almost freeing," he muses. "I mean, fuck, years of careful work down the drain, but to not have to hide any more..." His canines flash, dangerous.