There's a reason Orion's favourite booth is tucked away in a quiet corner, away from the windows. His job, his life is spent dealing with people — these quiet retreats are an excuse to be alone.

He won't be, for long. He's waiting on @cyril to arrive.

So when someone slides into the booth across from him, Orion looks up from his phone with a shy smile that falters immediately.

Not Cyril.

"Um." He's less composed when he's off work. "I'm sorry, do I know you?"

He looks familiar, for some reason.

[attr="class","beck"]"you do."

a composed finger taps at the table as his eyes glance around the room, passing over each individual, and when he's done, he keeps his gaze held out the window, peering out at nothing in particular.

"i count twenty-six."

[attr="class","noodles"]Orion Lykos

The man confirms knowing him but doesn't offer a name. Annoying.

It's not irritation but confusion that presents in the furrow of his brow, his deep brown gaze shifting to follow the sweep of the room.

"Sorry?"

People would be the obvious answer, given he'd canvassed the room, but what did that have to do with anything?

[attr="class","beck"]"twenty-six lives you're currently responsible for."

many more lives outside this cafe, no doubt. but could lykos sacrifice twenty-six for the rest of the region?

"twenty-six lives for you to save. all you to do is surrender to me."

[attr="class","noodles"]Orion Lykos

Orion laughs, more shock than humour.

"Excuse me?"

It clicks with a drop in his stomach. He doesn't know this man, not personally, but he knows his face. His name.

From the headlines.

"THEO BECKETT."

His soft tone has shifted cold. There's a fire in his eyes.

"You've got some nerve. Give me one reason not to arrest you right now."

He's still holding his phone but doesn't interact with it; it's clear in the hesitation that he's not willing to gamble twenty-six lives on calling Beckett's bluff.

[attr="class","beck"]"i gave you twenty-six."

he reaches for his cup of coffee, lifting it to blow hot steam away from the surface.

"well, twenty-seven if we count yours."

[attr="class","noodles"]Orion Lykos

Orion narrows his eyes.

"This isn't Kanto, Theo."

There's not a single beat of fear when his own life is threatened; Rocket's not seemed like much of a threat since Blackwell's fall. They'd come out with their little propaganda piece but the League wouldn't bend to them.

"Your people don't have the same pull here."

But he still doesn't make any calls.

[attr="class","beck"]"no, but i do."

a sip follows, then a soft sigh.

"you can put the phone down, councilman."

[attr="class","noodles"]Orion Lykos

"Really."

It's flat with disbelief, almost scathing.

He doesn't put his phone down.

"And how exactly do you plan to take out twenty-six people before I take you down?"

He's not much for fighting but he'd participated in the 3-day war, had defended Slateport's night market during the New Years Incident. He could take down one washed-up Kanto veteran, surely.

[attr="class","beck"]"don't be silly. it won't be me who kills them."

his other hand sits comfortably in his pocket; fingers curled around a single luxury ball.

"think you can take me down fast enough?"

[attr="class","noodles"]Orion Lykos

"Yeah, I bet I could."

He'd been worried they'd somehow managed to rig the place with explosives or something. His confidence grows as a more concrete threat isn't laid out.

He's bluffing, he's got to be.

But Orion doesn't want to be responsible for even one life lost.

"Did you know I specialize in psychic-types, Theo?" His smile is dead. "They excel at evacuation, at controlling a battle. Do you really think you'll be able to stop them?"

If he can just delay long enough for someone else to recognize him...

[attr="class","beck"]"silvally, espeon, absol? i don't think it matters either way. not unless they're already out on the field."

only now does his head tilts back, gaze finding the councilman's.

"i crack open this pokeball and everyone dies."

[attr="class","noodles"]Orion Lykos

"You've done your research. How cute."

He's sneering, now.

"I've got more than that. Did you know I do ghosts, as well?" He leans forward. "Some of them I don't even keep in pokeballs. Are you really willing to risk your own life to figure out how many?"

His heart is pounding. In truth, it's only his Gengar, and he did keep it in its pokeball when he entered public spaces. A lot of people were afraid of ghosts and didn't take kindly to one suddenly popping out of the furniture.

His other ghosts lack the ability to shift in and out of corporeal form.

"Better be something real strong in that pokeball. What is it, then?"