Gavin's never been much for politics. It reminds him of his parents in ways that make his stomach churn. The lavish parties, the lies, the pissing contests. He'd been nothing to his family but an ornament to croon over.

'Have you heard what my son—?'

But their praise was never directed at him. They were proud of his accomplishments only for how they reflected upon the family. And the second he'd toed a line into scandal, the doors to the manor were locked and he'd found himself on a plane to Kanto. They'd all but delivered him into Rocket's hands, and now...?

I am whatever Rocket needs me to be.

He turns to Bill Anderson with no hint of discomfort in his amber gaze.

"In the wake of the excursions, and with Sootopolis so close, we'll need to be careful. Hoenn needs leadership with a backbone. It needs Rocket." There's a fire kindling in his eyes, conviction. "But until then, we need our own on the inside. Calcifet and Fairburne give intel where they can, but no Rocket knows what goes on in those Council meetings."

He pauses to let another walk past.

"I've heard you've got a reputation for convincing people, Father." The nickname drips from his tongue. "So convince them, however you see fit."

Bill exudes a natural charisma, drawing attention where Gavin makes to avoid it. He is not uncomfortable with their eyes on him, but Rocket has spent a long time in the shadows.

The question surprises him; he takes a moment to consider.

"Loyalty," he says at last, drawing out the syllables. "A network upon which I can rely, no matter how... mm, fickle the climate."

He chooses his words carefully where others might listen in, then speaks more freely when there is distance.

"Our people have softened. Some might say I haven't softened enough."

There have been whispers in the ranks; he doesn't want a knife in his back.

There's an immediate and obvious discomfort that flickers through his eyes at the mention of Emma; he shutters it as quick as it had appeared, but not quick enough.

"She has never tried to kill me, but I trust her as well."

There's a tightness to his tone. His relationship with the Beast and admin had been no secret among Rocket and their split was an open one.

"There are plenty in Rocket who would see me dead if they thought they could get away with it." It's stated with all the flat affect of discussing the weather. "Most are not foolish enough to try it, and those that would — they would not survive the experience to pledge their loyalty afterward."

He was an underboss. To attempt an assassination was nothing short of treason.

This question, more than anything, gives Gavin pause.

He can't answer freedom — because it's not something he's ever truly had. His will and loyalty has been bound first to his parents, then to Rocket, and now to a corrupt god. He has never, will never know freedom.

He frowns, brow furrowing with it.

There's an answer he knows but does not want to give. Emma.

"I do my best not to dwell on what I no longer have," he says at last. "Either I'll find it again or I won't; either way, it does no good to mourn for what's lost to me."

Gavin melts into the growing crowd. His amber gaze never leaves Bill Anderson; the pastor's commanding presence manages to affect even Rocket's stoic underboss.

A vision for the future.

His lip twitches. Rocket would be their future.

When Bill's speech has concluded and the crowd has dispersed, Gavin finds him once more. Words spoken under his breath are meant for only their ears.

"Excellent job, Councilman Anderson."

For he has full confidence that the title is secure.