”So uncivilized.”
[break][break]
A man stands at the door. Tall, he carries himself with an air of assurance; not a single sign of tension noticeable in his body or demeanor despite the scene he has just walked into. If anything, he seems unimpressed, and this is only enhanced by the way a single eyebrow is soon raised. He has warm eyes, but beneath these artificial lights they shine in a strange shade of gold – the wild amber of a beast, of a dangerous creature.
[break][break]
What they don’t see is that he hesitates for a short second. That within, he falters, for in this room there is something he had never expected to encounter. Someone. A ghost from the past, haunting him. He does not stare, but he’s too aware of it all the same, and there are a million questions taking form in his head. He takes a drag from his cigarette. Warm nicotine fills his lungs, embracing him like the comfort of a heavy blanket on a winter night.
[break][break]
’Ignore it. Focus on why you’re here. Steel yourself. Show no weakness’
[break][break]
“Who the fuck are you?!” The question is raised by one of the men, the knuckles of his right hand scarlet with the ghost’s blood. The newcomer doesn’t reply, they just exchange stares, and the shouting man seems taken aback.
[break][break]
”We have business to discuss, yeah?” His tone is calm, cold, yet every word is drenched in an accent like a soft purr – honey glazed and palatable. Smoke is exhaled then, dancing in the air between them. ”Sit down, I don’t have all night.” It’s a command, and they comply; perhaps because of the man’s demeanor, perhaps because of his businesslike appearance and attire, perhaps because of the unspoken promises that come with the silver briefcase he carries. Perhaps, it’s all of the above. Perhaps it’s something they could have never explained if asked.
[break][break]
He steps inside, and without even giving him a single glance, he offers the short man who he can only assume was supposed to be his partner for this task a handkerchief. ”You’re bleeding.” The words come out matter-of-factly, as Mars can’t bring himself to even glance at this man. He knows if he does he’ll crack; he knows that even if it’s likely this is not even the person who he thought he saw, nothing good will come out of thinking about Michaelis Fisk on such a night.
[break][break]
The handkerchief is elegant, soft, and simple, and in a corner, carefully embroidered in golden thread, is the monogram ’MM’.

[BREAK][BREAK]

+ mint frost (Hope this is fine ♡)
[break]Also a Star Wars reference bc I can't help myself)

That’s his partner, he’s sure of it. He hadn’t met the guy; just known he would meet him and there’ a huge difference in him and the rest of the crew of gangsters. From the slow way he steps towards the mess, to how he addressed everyone. That’s his guy. Not a second too late. The grin on his face seems to lessen, snapped out of his violent daze. Bright green eyes move to the newcomer before back at his assailant as the bastard sits down without a word. The hand around his bat turns white as he considered taking a swing now that the man had perfectly placed himself, but rationality wins over vengeance, and he stayed his hand. [break][break]

“You’re late.” The bluenette returned simply, voice low so the rest of the idiots wouldn’t pay him too much mind. He tried not to sound too annoyed, as his irritation wasn’t directed at the Rocket. There’s a pause as Mars walked by him though. Mint momentarily forgot his train of thought as a memory wiggles free from his subconscious. The face of a stranger- a friend- The memory slips from his grasp but he feels the gears in his brain turning. And then he snapped back into the present, grounding himself with fury as he looked over at his attacker. His mouth tightened into a thin line as he took the handkerchief and carefully began wiping his face before moving up to his nose. Was it broken? He hoped not. It’d hurt way more than this if it was broken right? It definitely stung but he didn’t try to blow it. He couldn’t remember if blowing out his nose was a good thing. He noted the letters, making a note to ask later for a proper introduction. [break][break]

Suddenly, all eyes are on the Rockets. Or well, Mars. Suddenly, the promise of double, perhaps even triple the price in all cash was real. It’s all inside that mysterious silver briefcase. “Let’s continue discussions.” Mint announced, pulling the handkerchief away just long enough to show a broad grin before nodding over at Mars. The gang leader moved forward towards Mars. “You here to back up what this lil shit’s been saying? Or what?” he asked. “Sure moving all this cargo would be a pain in th’ ass, but if it meant better profits we would even with League pressures.” Mint tried not to glare at the obvious bluff. The rest of the gang murmurs in agreement. All were willing a bit of extra manual labor and sleep deprivation if it meant an even bigger payout. The leader had that greedy glint in his eye. If he could up the stakes, and up his winnings, he would by whatever means necessary.


[break][break]

+ Martín del Mar HEHEHE GET WREKT BRO sootopolis: synergize

[attr="class","pokeclass"]

The man who stands at the door is not Martín del Mar; not the charming CEO of Piazza Oro Grande Bank. It’s not Mars either, for Mars is no more than a Team Rocket grunt like any other, and he has no business acting high and mighty when the time for important negotiations comes. No, this man is actually no other than Martín Marzán, but not the Martín Marzán Michaelis Fisk knew once.
[break][break]
This is the heir to a criminal empire, a man who has spent all of his life deep in the merciless world of crime. A man who has been shaped by it, molded as if made out of clay, even if the people in this room may not know who he actually is upon first glance. He doesn’t care. He’s not here to gloat or to rely upon the fear the Marzán name can inspire upon people’s hearts – especially not when Team Rocket’s own reputation can do so much more harm if spoken of by someone who can use their words well enough.
[break][break]
He notes that his haunting ghost of a colleague is probably not this sort of person, or he would never have been hurt like he already has.
[break][break]
One by one, his gaze falls on the men, until finding the one that looks as if he’s the clear leader of this gang. The one they all respect. The one who calls the shots. The one he must speak to in order for all of them to see reason and agree to this deal.
[break][break]
”I think you may be misunderstanding the position you’re in.” Dryly, he allows these words to hang between them the second after the man plays his hand, looming over their heads as if the sharp blade of a guillotine – executioner’s rope in his own hands. ’..or that you think I don’t know what that position is.’ Mars adds in his mind, but these words are never spoken out loud, instead watching as the tension in the room increases, the group clearly not being too pleased with hearing that. Of course they aren’t, but he’s unfazed by the way they react.
[break][break]
”We both know that you can’t keep hiding all that cargo from the League for long, and that no one other than Team Rocket will be willing to risk buying it from you. How many did you offer it to before you came to us?” It is a question that he already knows the answer to, and this is made clear by the way he stares at the men.
[break][break]
There’s a thrill to seeing their expressions change with every word that comes out of his mouth, but he does not smile. He does not sigh. He remained cold, calm, and collected. ”I’m sure you wouldn’t want to end up having to ditch it after you went through all that trouble to procure it, so how about we talk honest numbers, hm?”
[break][break]
Of course, Mars could have easily paid them everything they asked for and left with the cargo, but to a Marzán, that isn’t how any of this works. If Team Rocket began allowing any small gang to push them around, then they would all start asking exorbitant prices for the stupidest things, and that just wouldn’t do, would it now? Plus, honestly, he just didn’t like throwing his money at people that bored him, much less those that annoyed him.


[BREAK][BREAK]

+ mint frost

Mint isn’t entirely clear on whatever mess he may be in. He’s been the face of missions before, but nothing as tense or dangerous as this. Putting on a bit of makeup and making yourself cry wasn’t on the level of…say...brokering negotiations with money that wasn’t yours with a gang you barely knew anything about aside from the mission briefs. Its hard to be intimidating when he’d currently plugging his nose with pristine white cloth, but he follows along with Mars nevertheless. His clothes tonight were dark, all black even. A little blood wouldn’t do much to them. His eyes move to his partner as the man sets to work, and there’s that nagging recognition again. That voice from long ago that’s both familiar and different. He saw a smile that was missing. He saw light in those eyes that were missing. Now wasn’t the time for these kinds of distractions, but he couldn’t help but pull an old name from deep behind those locked away memories. There’s a soft echo of a laughter like a wind chime in his ears, and then a joining deeper rumble that follows. Ah- [break][break]

Recognition worms its way into his mind, but then a glance at the man that assaulted him anchors him back down. Not now Micha- He cuts himself off taking a breath and muttering a curse. Stay focused, stay in it. Anything that had to do with Michaelis Fisk was dead to him. He had nothing to do with that and never would again. But every word, coldly stabbing through the air and accentuating their cause bring back bits and pieces of times past. Better times, comfortable times. It makes him uncomfortable, like can’t itch he can’t scratch. [break][break]

The gang leader tensed and set his jaw. They knew far more about them than anticipated. He deflected, trying to buy himself time to set up a better bluff. After all, they were going to squeeze as much as possible from these impetuous shitheads. “Say we do sell, you prepared t’pay up front like that brat says?” There’s a pointed glance at the brief case in Mars’ hands. Mint meanwhile scowled, unappreciative of being treated like the kid in this transaction. “There’s no benefit in me lying.” Mint spat back. Not when they had the upper hand during it all. Besides, now that the other guy was here it was very much out of his hands. Mars had a better control of the room. Mint still had resistance. There wasn’t much he could do to add to this, only defer when needed to his partner. Still, it irked him a little. These gangsters were so stubborn. Had sending only two of them been a mistake? Ugh. “We dind’t have to come here today. We could’ve waited for the League to confiscate it and then bust their warehouses instead.” He added. There had been missions like that before. There’s a rumble through the group of disquiet. Mars had set them on edge, even more so than Mint’s previous needling.


[break][break]

+ Martín del Mar HEHEHE GET WREKT BRO sootopolis: synergize

[attr="class","pokeclass"]

A thin line of smoke rises in the air between them, curving and twisting exquisitely before disappearing. His gaze remains fixed on the man, but on the forefront he watches the smoke, allowing himself to be silent as the other questions their ability to live up to their word. He takes another drag from the cigarette, and in his place his colleague is the one who responds. He’s right, but his words are too charged with emotion. He’s probably upset he’s being treated like a kid. How old is he now? Twenty-three? Twenty-four?
[break][break]
”You’ll receive your finder’s fee. Cash, upfront.” Mars confirms, and he knows the other party also won’t be pleased to hear this. A finder’s fee is less than what they expected to receive, and in their eyes, it likely wouldn’t cover all the expenses and the trouble they went through to procure this precious cargo that they think is worth so much. This too is something for which he has prepared beforehand, and an answer is offered before they have a chance to bore him with their outrage:
[break][break]
He flicks the ashes off the cigarette, not caring if they fall to the floor. ”Of course, that could increase if you could provide us with a steady supply of cargo like this. Team Rocket is very appreciative of reliable business partnerships.” This is, above all things, lure – the promise of wealth ever a temptation to men of this sort. He knows what they must be thinking. They’ve done it before, so why wouldn’t they be able to do it again? Team Rocket has a lot of money, they would be paid well. But, the League is a risk. What if one of them got arrested for this? They all have families that need them, and things are getting worse and worse in Sootopolis by the minute...
[break][break]
”And we always protect our own.” His words are calm and practical, and with them, a hand is placed on his partner’s shoulder. He continues to stare directly at the others, but the message that lines beneath is clear to those willing to read it: the words are for him as much as they are for those before them, even if with a slightly different meaning. If this truly is the man Mars thought he saw when he first entered the room, then not a single hand would be laid on him. Never again. Not while he was there with him.
[break][break]
To the others, it makes something else clear: the word ’partnership’ is no more than a courtesy, and the real offer here is one to work for Team Rocket.



[BREAK][BREAK]

+ mint frost

Mint doesn’t even think about interrupting as his partner takes up the reigns of the conversation, easily manipulating the flow of it like a horseback rider. He vaguely sensed he had fucked up promising double, but in his defense, it wasn’t his money to begin with. If he thought it was a good plan though, he would let Mars do what he wanted to. Mint can only watch as his companion works through the ever-stubborn bastards. He can see the gears slowly turning in the leader’s head. What a good idea. Keep them under them. That was long-term thinking right there. Mint had just been trying to get his hands on the cargo. [break][break]

He doesn’t notice Mars until he felt the hand on his arm, too focused on the conversation and how the gang leader was reacting. There’s a sudden shift in the energy. Before it was indignant stubbornness and then it subtly changed as he felt a hand on his shoulder. By some miracle he doesn’t jump out of his skin not expecting the gesture. Mint’s nemesis clearly sat up a little straighter, on guard. He didn’t look up at Mars, not wanting to give away his surprise. The deal is a lucrative one, and in the long term, far more than what Mint had offered initially. [break][break]

The gang leader’s face turns stoic as he weighed the options. Team Rocket was powerful. They had the money and the manpower to back up their threats and their promises. Even their reputation was changing in Sootopolis for the better. The gang murmuring is silent. The oppressive feeling in the air stifled all response or conversation, especially with a thinly veiled threat from a man with bright, sharp eyes. There’s hesitation before Mint tries to put his foot on their necks again. “You have competition here, don’t you?” he asked. “I wonder what they’d say to an offer like that~” Mint continued with a cruel smirk. After all, the horse that was backed by Team Rocket was a sure winner. If they didn’t accept, Team Rocket would find someone who would. Eyes flicker between him and Mars. The terms are clear cut, and there is a bitter recognition of realizing an even bigger fish had appeared in their little pond. The man before them began speaking, wording it to his followers in a way that didn’t entirely sound like they would be kowtowing to Rocket. “How steady a supply we talkin’?” he asked gruffly, as if he hadn’t already committed to moving wit Team Rocket. If he didn’t want to be crushed by his rivals, he wouldn’t say no.


[break][break]

+ Martín del Mar HEHEHE GET WREKT BRO sootopolis: synergize

[attr="class","pokeclass"]

Underestimating people is always a mistake.
[break][break]
This is something Martín Marzán first learned at the short age of six, and it apparently is also something the men before him don’t understand quite well just yet. They had underestimated his partner and they had underestimated him, and apparently, they continue to do so even after their position has been made clear. Maybe they’re just foolish. Maybe their leader is putting on an act for the sake of not losing the respect of his men.
[break][break]
It’s a stupid act, but Mars can at least understand the mindset behind that.
[break][break]
’How steady a supply we talkin’?’
[break][break]
Amber eyes narrow, as if hunter stalking his prey. ”That will depend on your efforts. You will be compensated accordingly, of course.”
[break][break]
’Do well and you’ll earn more.’ It’s a simple concept; a good way of motivating people and making them see the benefits in an offer. These men could still go for receiving a larger amount of cash immediately, of course, but why would they? They think this arrangement will last. They think their gang will prosper. They have no way of predicting the fall of Sootopolis.
[break][break]
Negotiations go smoothly, and by the time Mars is done with his cigarette, they’re out of the room – flicking away the remnants of it as he crosses the door. The silver briefcase has been left behind, it’s loss already of little significance to the man, and just like it, he has also left behind his interest in this whole arrangement from the moment the cargo is picked up.
[break][break]
Now, he can focus on more important matters.
[break][break]
Now, he can focus on the thing that has been haunting him since he first arrived.
[break][break]
Now, he can say everything he really wanted to say and ask everything he wanted to ask.
[break][break]
”Micha.” The word is only said once no one but them is within earshot, his gaze fixing on the one who had until recently been the youngest of all Fisk brothers. He looks older, his hair is longer, but beneath all that there’s still the remnants of the Michaelis Mars remembers. He reminds him of Cosima, and that makes all this even more painful than the worry he had felt when Micha had first disappeared.
[break][break]
”What the hell are you doing here?”
[break][break]
His tone isn’t accusatory, nor is it harsh, but the question is still an important one. Mint Frost may belong in Team Rocket, but someone like Michaelis Fisk? Not so much. Mars has never met Mint, after all, since to him the person before him is still the same boy he cared for and thought of as a little brother since they were both much younger. His late wife’s little brother.



[BREAK][BREAK]

+ mint frost

Mars is better at this than he is, that much is for sure. Mint could only pick up so much form an absentee father after all. Negotiations run smoothly, and his eyes are on his nemesis like a hawk. He wanted so badly to return the favor, but he doesn’t dare provoke a fight when Mars is sealing the deal and sending the gangsters on their way. The handkerchief he’d been given is stained, but his nosebleed had settled. There’s streaks of dark blood under his nose and coating his nostrils but a little bit of water could fix that. [break][break]

It’s silent, and the footsteps of the others have long since vanished before its broken by a single word that makes his blood run cold. Any calm and control he had managed to gather during the meeting shattered as his entire body tenses, tightens under the pull of that name. He felt the sweat bead at his forehead and his heart squeeze in dread. The question that came next is expected, and while Mars didn’t mean to set him off, Mint is on guard. He stood up, movements stiff and eyes wild. They dart around clocking an exit strategy before landing on Mars. Mint then swallowed thickly; his smile faker than when he was holding back his petty anger minutes ago. “I could ask the same thing.” He tried to keep his tone even but he’s shaking, on the brink of running. And while maybe there isn’t a good chance of outrunning his older brother, there’s certainly the urge to try. [break][break]

Any would be excitement of seeing his brother again, quickly reverted into anxiety. “I’m making ends meet, same as anyone.” He added, the hand clenching his bat going white at the knuckles as he tried to look like he had it together. He wasn’t. This time he tired to be more assertive. “Michaelis Fisk is dead. My name is Mint Frost.” He omitted the now because killing Michaelis Fisk meant burying every thing that had ever belonged to him. His family, his friends, his memories. As far as anyone was concerned now, he had always been Mint Frost. Just some vagabond, little loan shark up in Lillycove that worked for Team Rocket. It wasn’t a grand life. Some would even say it wasn’t a good life. But it’s a life he’d chosen to life, and that was all he really cared about in the end.

[break][break]

+ Martín del Mar HEHEHE GET WREKT BRO sootopolis: synergize

[attr="class","pokeclass"]

Michaelis Fisk is dead.
[break][break]
Michaelis Fisk knows nothing of death, because only someone who doesn’t would use those words so lightly and carelessly. He may mean what he said, he may believe it from the bottom of his heart, but has he truly buried all that? Left it behind? Can he really say he’s a completely different person from the boy he was back at Sinnoh? Even after a short meeting, Mars knows the answer to this. As long as Mint Frost lives, Michaelis Fisk will always be a part of him.
[break][break]
One step.
[break][break]
Two steps.
[break][break]
This is all it takes to close the gap between them.
[break][break]
Embers still burn in his warm gaze as he stares down at the other, and there is danger in this. There’s so much he could do, there’s so much he could say, there’s so much he wants to say. He could easily tell him he’s wrong. He could easily tell him he’s behaving like a child. He could blame him for all the pain he caused when he left and how much Cosima had cried. Michaelis had been selfish for leaving. Michaelis had been weak. And yet, despite believing all of these things, Mars smiles oh so slightly.
[break][break]
”Okay, Mint.”
[break][break]
Acknowledgement.
[break][break]
Too much has been lost to lose someone else needlessly, specially when having just met him again after years had passed since his disappearance. If Michaelis had wanted to leave his life behind, could Mars really blame him? Maybe, had he been in his place, he himself would have done the same – had he not been so stubborn and proud, and had he not known exactly what the Marzáns would do if he left. Hell, he had almost left, and even considering doing this had cost him everything he once cherished...
[break][break]
Never again.
[break][break]
Never again will they take anything from him, and never again will he lose someone that’s important to him.
[break][break]
That includes Mint, even if he’s really no longer the person Mars had considered family.
[break][break]
A hand is offered for him to shake.
[break][break]
”Martín del Mar. It’s nice to meet you, Mint.”
[break][break]
A new beginning, for he too has changed. He too is supposed to be here in search of a new life, a new beginning, and a better way of living…
[break][break]
But, Martín Marzán is not dead.


[BREAK][BREAK]

+ mint frost

Mars is right about him. Michaelis Fisk lingered around him, like a faded echo that resurfaced after too much prodding. He’s present in the way he held himself, despite turbulent emotions roiling inside him. He’s there in the way Mint is so tempted to just run away. He’s there in how despite how awkward, uncomfortable this was he couldn’t move. Paralyzed by his indecision, and his fear, and even his pride. Because after all those years, Mint was still so intent on keeping up appearances. But he wasn’t the businessman his father was. He hadn’t mastered control over himself completely. Not like him, not like Mars. Seafoam green eyes are anything but peaceful, displaying panic and desperation as Mint’s thoughts stumbled into one another uselessly. [break][break]

He can feel his breathing stop as the brunette got closer, looking down at him, unreadable. Upset? The silence is heavy, and Mint’s left foot slide back a few inches as if preparing to bolt backwards. His eyebrows knit together as he stared up at him. There’s a twitch in his hand as he looked down at his brother’s own before tentatively reaching out for it. He tried to steady himself, despite the loud beating his head as his heart rate skyrocketed from the encounter. He remembered the instructions of an introduction. A firm but not too hard handshake. A frown is replaced by another doll-like smile as he looked back up at his partner. He’s confused, taken aback and cautious but he tried to hide that from his hands. “Nice to meet you Mr. Del Mar.” [break][break]

Maybe it’s the adrenaline of the night but he is still jumpy. Any other time the thought of one he called his older brother simply accepting his short explanation would’ve made him overjoyed. Excited even. But maybe this alertness was better for him. It was foolish to think he could just go back to how it all was and slip into that familiarity. It was selfish to even think that a possibility. It brought a sense of awkwardness he tried to shove aside as he let go of the man’s hand and pulled out him phone and looked away. He just wanted to stop staring into his eyes. “I usually like to go out for something to eat with my friends after something like this, but it’s already so late.” He said as he opened a new contact. [break][break]

“Why don’t we meet up later?” [break][break]

If any at all. He had to believe there was a possibility he might blow this for him but…he was in Rocket for some reason. As they exchanged numbers, Mint pocketed his cell before waving off the man and taking off himself, eager to get away. He needed to collect his thoughts and settle the nerves that man had whipped up inside him.


[break][break]

+ Martín del Mar HEHEHE GET WREKT BRO sootopolis: synergize

[attr="class","pokeclass"]