He is not the man she remembers.

He is a void occupying a vessel who was once one of the most powerful men in Hoenn. Yet it's not for his seat on the Council that Orion pines but for the life he'd had before that — a life he'd hoped to slip on like an old glove.

The door to the Ranger outpost in Fortree slams closed.

"Fuck off."

Such words are muttered moments before his personal space is shamelessly invaded.

He stiffens at the contact, which is normal. He scowls at her, which is not.

"I'm not in the mood, Vicki."

He tries to insert his good arm between them to force her back a few steps. This, too, would have been easier with both his hands. Everything is a reminder of what he's lost, even when it's not so blatant as the child in front of him.

@vicki

Predictably, the puppy-dog eyes don't work.

"About the time someone held me down and cut it off, yeah."

It's not light. It's not joking. It's bitter and cold and he's hurting.

She's a kid. He shouldn't be so blunt with her, but she shouldn't be invading his personal space despite his obvious desire to be left alone.

He brushes her hand away and makes to walk past her, toward his house.

@vicki

In a way, it helps that she's not trying to help. That she's not walking on eggshells and watching her words and trying to pretend everything is normal except where it counts, except where Orion wants it to be.

The sound that escapes him isn't a laugh, more akin to a scoff.

"We're not talking about you, princess. Keep up."

But this time, there's a hint of humour in his tone. Princess. It's what he calls her when he wants her to know she's being especially exasperating. Not unlike how she keeps calling him stinky.

"What do you want, anyway?"

@vicki

He only winces a little when she pats him on the back, more from the unexpected force behind it than anything else. Had she always been this strong, or had his time with Rocket simply made him weaker?

He doesn't want to think about it, but he can't stop.

He goes quiet as Vicki talks, more reminiscent of the man she'd once known.

"Rocket," he says. "It was Team Rocket."

Let the whole region understand, old and young, that the leopard hadn't changed its spots. It had simply adopted a better camouflage. They weren't the freedom fighters they claimed to be. They were the villains.

His sigh is heavy.

"I'm not mad at you, Vic. I'm just..."

Suffering. So angry, all the time. So tired.

"... not feeling great."

@vicki

Vicki's smaller hand fits against his and the last of the frost melts away from his gruff exterior. His shoulders slump a little bit, a sigh ghosting past his lips.

There's no use denying it, is there? If anyone understands...

"Yeah," he admits. "Either it's all they want to ask me about or they'll act like someone died and can't even look at me straight." Not that Orion often looked people in the eye to begin with, but that didn't mean it escaped his notice when they averted their gaze from his missing arm so fast they'd give themselves whiplash. "They've put me back on grunt work for the Rangers like they don't think I can handle the shit I used to do."

That, he thinks, is what hurts the most. He's never understood more the longing Vicki must feel to be allowed into the Ranger's world.

@vicki