Through sunglasses that shield his eyes, Gavin stares.

It is not out of discomfort or even morbid curiosity. It is recognition that burns in his eyes, their amber gleam concealed by the sunglasses he wears.

Calliope Marks, former champion of Kanto.

Rocket's former prisoner of war.

The bitch who'd broken his fucking leg.

Liam King cants his head and tosses a pokeball, revealing a Riolu who yips eagerly at the prospect of battle. Her energy seems to sober as she senses the aura emanating from Gavin. Her trainer is angry. This is their enemy.

She squares up against the Charmander, determined.

Her good hand reaches down to scratch the Charmander on the top of the head. She beams, leans into the touch; both trainer and pokemon are ignorant of the animosity from Cillian Quinn.

"Thank you for the battle." Her voice is gentle and low but has a strength to it one might not anticipate if they knew who she was.

"You can have first move."

Oh, you wouldn't thank me if you knew.

A part of him wishes to enlighten her, to shed this second skin and engage in a bloody brawl. Break her bones as she'd broken his, snap her neck as Rocket should've done when they had the chance.

He dismisses the urge to violence.

"Always up for a good spat."

His Galarian accent curls around the words like his lips curve with a smile.

He clicks his tongue, and Riolu lunges with a swipe of METAL CLAWS.

The click has her making fists at her sides, subconscious. Only after she feels her knuckles pop does she think to relax, to force them open and ease a tension from her shoulders.

The Charmander is young and she hasn't had her long. The metal claw comes fast and she can't dodge, a pained cry leaving her.

"It's okay." Is said, soothing, to her pokemon. "Smokescreen." The Charmander backs away from the Rilou, opens her mouth and sprays an acidic, black smoke to obscure the battlefield.

Gavin notes the way her fingers curl and holds back a smirk.

Yes, you remember, don't you?

She might've snapped his spine if it hadn't been for THEO BECKETT. He knows the admin is here at the tournament as well, wonders if he'll pit himself against the disgraced champion.

Thick smoke puts them at a disadvantage; the strategy, too, reminds him of his mentor. He clicks his tongue and Riolu COPIES her opponent's strategy, until it's impossible to see the two Pokemon but for the occasional flash of orange and blue.

She gives an assenting hum, single eye moving slowly over the battlefield.

Experience allows her to see the ebbs and flows of battle, how this may shape up.

Sadly, at this point, her pokemon are not the trained team she once had.

"Growl."

The Charmander lets a rough noise erupt from her throat even in the thick smoke, a threat to the Rilou not to come closer.

---

charmander - female - blaze - smokescreen, ember, growl, dragon breath, fire fang, scratch

- Cillian Quinn
- finally got my moves lol
- Charmander used Growl!

Unfortunately, on account of all the smoke, Riolu couldn't choose to steer clear if she wanted to. As soon as the sound fades, the disorienting effects of the smokescreen kick in and leave her stumbling around blind.

METAL CLAWS slash through the air in the hopes of finding purchase.

Gavin's attention has not been on the battle. It remains on Calliope Marks, eyes sharp behind shades.

Much like a fish unaware it's about to get eaten by a shark, Callie is oblivious to the way that Cillian Quinn watches her.

Her focus is too close on the battle. Something her mother used to scold her about as a child- too lofty in the castle of her mind, wrapped up in herself to not notice what was happening around her.

She can see the sheen of the metal claws in the smoke before her Charmander does. The little fire type cries out before end ends up knocked down in the land.

Weak, but not down yet. She Blazes as she pushes herself up, rushes towards the Riolu with a Fire Fang. Her last stand.

Riolu lets out a shrill yelp of pain as fiery fangs sink into her shoulder. How fortunate that the little jackal has yet to evolve and gain the steel typing that might've spelled her end against such a blazing foe.

She FEINTS left then jabs right, instead, looking to knock the determined lizard back.

The shark that is Gavin Merlino continues to circle, the steel of his gaze concealed by the sunglasses that hide its colour.

The feint strikes. Charmander cries out again, flames on her tongue fading to embers as she falls. The pokemon whines but can't bring herself to get up. Everything hurts too much.

Callie knows when she's lost. Calling her pokemon back into her ball, she finally lifts her eyes from the battle to the shark looking to swallow her whole.

"You win." It's simple and fact. There isn't a hint of soreness there, nothing soured from her loss; she was a gracious loser. Maybe that would make it worse. "Thank you for the battle."

Charmander falls.

It doesn't carry the satisfaction that he craves. This meager victory holds no candle to the war he wants. He wants to tear flesh and break bones, wants to do as Rocket should've done long ago and snuff out her embers before they could grow to blaze.

She had been so powerful, once.

Pity.

He schools his expression against the way his lip longs to curl. Riolu returns to his side and scampers up his back, little claws scrabbling against his shoulder as she hauls herself onto her favourite spot.

"You were Champion of Kanto, weren't you?"

As if those scars could belong to anyone else.

Callie had been fully prepared to leave. A quick exchange, move on, much like other battles with unfamiliar people.

This makes her waver, makes her spine straighten to something tall and still, like a string pulled taunt from the top of her head.

She looks at Cillian Quinn.

And she looks.

And doesn't see what was there.

She doesn't avert her eye.

"I was."

When he looks at her, he feels no sympathy.

He should. He can acknowledge as much even as hatred burns like fire in his veins. She has suffered at their hands. Yet Gavin looks at her and thinks of a burning battlefield and the sickening snap of bone. He thinks of all the Rockets who hadn't been lucky enough to get away in time.

He thinks of what she'd do to his friends, his family, if only she knew who they were.

He feels nothing but hate.

He smiles as if apologizing for making her tense. She won't be able to see that it doesn't reach his eyes.

"Thought you looked familiar. From the news."

No. From the battlefield, the face of death looming over him. He'd had a Lucario, then, not the Riolu that nuzzles against his neck.