It's nice to have a break from the spotlight of the tournament, the prying eyes that make his skin crawl. He's never been so infamous as since the HNN article had branded him a war criminal; even disguised, he feels exposed.

Sunglasses shade his eyes as they rake the beach.

"Don't really get proper time off in my line of work."

He could go home and take a bit of a rest but even that was at risk of being interrupted by some Rocket emergency or another.

A Magnezone hovers at the underbosses side, perhaps 'unwittingly' contributing to the technological interference with the polarity of its MAGNET PULL.

"Anything would be a better use for my time."

He's a wanted criminal. It's not as if he can safely lure Hoenn's top trainers to Rocket's cause with the League hanging around in droves. He'd fought two Silphs and the region's champion thus far.

He cants his head as the chair is indicated — then sits, no questions.

Scent?

Amber eyes reconsider the Magnezone hovering silently at his side. He recalls it in a swift motion and replaces it with a vicious blue-furred Lycanroc. Drool drips from the creature's open maw and it sniffs at the air, nose wrinkling at a scent Gavin cannot detect.

He gestures with his hand, indicating it should search.

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Has he been misunderstood? Gavin shakes his head.

"Anything other than the tournament," he amends. "Not this."

The break is nice, even if they can't get clear of spectators even on this ordinarily lonely and rocky stretch of Slateport's beach. He'd hoped they might see a couple of guys hanging out with their Pokemon and lose interest but apparently the curiosity of certain tourists was boundless.

His skin prickles, jaw shifts at the implication.

"I won't burn out."

He can't. He's never been allowed to burn out.

Lycanroc prowls along the beach, snuffling in the sand. It draws back with an irate growl as sand gets up its nose, shaking its head violently.

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Gavin's laugh is deep, devoid of humour.

"If I was going to kill myself, I'd have done it long ago."

His life has been so, so much worse than this.

"And the first...?" He thinks he knows.

Lycanroc lets out a single, sharp bark when it finds the body. It disappears beneath the sand, gone before any onlookers might glimpse with their prying eyes. Gavin had seen just enough to know that something was up.

Decay. Steel.

Amber eyes narrow, suspicious, but he recalls his Lycanroc and returns the Magnezone from earlier to the field. It hovers over the beach, its MAGNET PULL sure to attract the metal if it gets close.

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'Suicide'. Just as he'd suspected.

His smile is as dark as his laugh. "Terrible business."

Vessel. Gavin cants his head.

"Like a ship? Or a receptacle?"

A vessel could house many things. From something as simple as a glass of water to as complex as an avatar being the vessel for the powers of legends. Lugia's own power thrums through his veins, dormant. The shadowed leviathan lurks in the ocean nearby; Gavin can feel its presence brush against his mind, a strange comfort.

He keeps his Magnezone on the field. An ELECTRIC TERRAIN crackles across the sand as it hunts.

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Showtime.

Anxiety thrums in his veins as he returns the brush against his mind.

Magnezone lets out a SUPERSONIC blast as soon as the vessel is unleashed, frightening and disorienting but not harming the nearby spectators. 'Liam King' is already on his feet, SHADOW MIASMA swirling around him.

"You've got the name wrong, Anderson."

Several people scream as Shadow Lugia bursts from the ocean nearby, scattering water with its dark wings. THUNDER rumbles before a bolt of lightning strikes down toward Bill Anderson's Milotic.

"A shame your family has thrown their lot in with the League. Rocket's looking for talent." Gavin does not ordinarily raise his voice but speaks now for all those nearby to hear. "How many times has your government failed to protect you? To think that I could so easily infiltrate an international tournament while half the region knows my name."

Lugia circles overhead and lands next to him, shading him with its wings.

"Do you plan to bring me in?" He laughs, cold. "Good luck with that."

An intense PRESSURE ripples across the beach as Lugia screams.

"Do they? Or is that what they want you to believe?"

Bill Anderson sends out an army but Gavin is an underboss, an avatar, unafraid.

A sweep of his arm sends out an army of his own. Shadow Pokemon land like sentinels among the sand as the swirling miasma swells to shroud them. Among soldiers adorned with shards of dark crystal, a seemingly ordinarily Escavalier seems hilariously out of place.

Until it lifts its lance and the SKIES darken with SHADOW.

Like acid rain it falls, pelting the skin and harming all those not borne of corruption. Escavalier's own OVERCOAT is its only protection, and Lugia shields Gavin with her spread wings.

The beach erupts in a brilliant explosion of attacks as shadow Pokemon clash with allies they may even have recognized from sparring sessions in the armory. Allegiance does not matter when they are given command; they obey without question.

An arrow loosed toward Gavin's throat is blocked by the PROTECTION of his ice-spined Sandslash, arrow clattering against steel. DARK SPIKES litter the beach in a broad circle around Rocket's underboss, discouraging would-be heros from drawing closer.

With a fierce flap of her wings, Lugia summons HURRICANE winds to buffet their 'assailant'.

"It won't be a happy ending, I assure you."

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