[attr="class","beck"]"merlino."

his eyes gloss over the underboss but it doesn't take much effort to notice the poor state he's in, and though theo's seen far worse, this sight in particular is difficult to look at.

"you look like shit."

he tenses, turns, then starts walking.

[attr="class","noodles"]Cillian Quinn

Enough time has passed for acceptance to drown out hurt.

A comment which might have once caused the underboss to bare his teeth sees him tense as if in preparation of retort before something holds him back.

Beckett's boldness further confirms suspicions he's nursed in the interim.

Still, Gavin is petty — he catches up, takes the lead where he'd once have been forced to follow. He has earned his place in Rocket's pecking order and refuses to concede.

"Are you familiar with Miro?"

Lycanroc lopes ahead, snuffling at stone walkways.

[attr="class","beck"]petty, he thinks as merlino speeds ahead, but he keeps it to himself this time.

"a little. but tell me more about her."

[attr="class","noodles"]Cillian Quinn

Gavin sucks his teeth, resists an urge for further pettiness.

"Recent addition to the League's circuit. Some kind of pop star. She incorporates her music into her challenge, so the gym is a concert hall. Also means it's fairly large."

His tone suggests displeasure that is, for once, not directed at Theo.

"Her known Pokemon are the kind you'd expect: Primarina, Exploud, Rillaboom..."

He tenses when anyone spares them too long a look, but their disguises seem to hold.

[attr="class","beck"]"so, earplugs."

he spares no attention to anyone that might look at them, convinced that their disguises hold well enough.

"i imagine we'll do best at the gym."

[attr="class","noodles"]Cillian Quinn

Were it not for the tension between them, Gavin might've chuckled. Instead, he's all business.

"Soundproof is an excellent choice if you've got access to it. Throat Chop, as well. I'll be bringing my Bastiodon, or potentially lending it out."

It all depended on who they picked to carry out their mission, in the end. There was plenty of time to work out the kinks.

"We..."

But whatever Gavin had been about to say, he trails off and lifts a hand to his temple, wincing. They've not been walking all that long, but his breathing is short and shallow. He's stubborn enough not to call attention to it, to press on despite his vertigo.

"We attempted to carry out an assassination, but it didn't stick."

It pains him to think of Emma, but Gavin believed her insistence that she'd broken the girl's neck. It wouldn't be the first time someone in Hoenn didn't stay dead.

"So orders are to take her alive, this time."

[attr="class","beck"]the wince draws his attention and though merlino presses on, theo stops and reaches a hand to merlino's shoulder, stopping him, too.

"what did they do to you?"

[attr="class","noodles"]Cillian Quinn

As if they're back in Kanto, the hand on Gavin's shoulder sees his muscles tense.

Logic overrides conditioning enough to remind him of his rank, though it comforts little under his suspicion of Theo's loyalty. Still, he stops walking and braces himself against a nearby building, quietly grateful for an excuse to catch his breath.

"Just — running a lot of tests, is all. It's nothing."

Should Theo's touch be close enough to his neck, he'd find his skin cool, damp.

"I'll be fine."

But is he trying to convince Theo, or himself?

[attr="class","beck"]he releases his grip, then moves the back of his hand to merlino's neck — his eyes narrow, questioning.

"walsh?"

[attr="class","noodles"]Cillian Quinn

Theo's touch against the back of his neck invokes a multitude of emotions, overwhelming in his current state. It's uncertainty that speaks the loudest, verdant green eyes struggling to focus on Theo's own.

What would happen if he said the wrong thing? His throat is dry.

"Scientists," he corrects; with Walsh's permission, but doesn't dare say it aloud. "With my consent, of course. It's — it's fine."

He doesn't pull away from the touch.

[attr="class","beck"]he doesn't pull his hand back yet. he presses.

"fairchild?"

[attr="class","noodles"]Cillian Quinn

It's harder to resist with the hand on his neck. The admin's hand is warm against his cold skin, and he can't decide whether to feel comforted or threatened.

Beneath the touch, Gavin's pulse is weak, irregular, racing.

"She's — one of them," he admits.

[attr="class","beck"]finally, he retracts his hand back but not before stopping to give merlino a soft slap against the side of his face. his hand lingers for moments as he speaks.

"you're no use in this state. come on."

and with that, his hand falls and he turns to walk back towards merlino's home.

[attr="class","noodles"]Cillian Quinn