It's not the job but the red-inked message below that had captured Gavin's attention. He'd left the notice up with no intention of taking the job. He was underboss; there were ordinarily better things to do with his time than grunt work, unless he was assessing one of their new hires.

But when he finds himself in the area for something else... well, if he were a cat curiosity would've buried him years ago.

Moon's haunted. What ever did that mean?

He huffs, a sound that might've been an attempt at laughter, when he comes upon the grunt.

"Who's Muirne, and what did she do to deserve that?"

Gavin steps up on the porch and chances a look in one of the half-boarded windows, but it's so coated with dust and grime that he can't see much beyond. Making a face, he turns back to the girl.

"Surely we can do better than this dump." He shakes his head. "Gavin Merlino. Who're you?"

ana fell

Perhaps her reaction should've been expected, given how she'd thought herself alone save for her Pokémon, but Gavin's lip quirks in amusement all the same.

He doesn't miss the way the shutters fall still the moment he looks in the window, nor the sudden absence of the wind.

Just ghosts, he tries to tell himself, but his skin prickles. He's been through too much shit in Hoenn to dismiss something so obviously wrong.

He turns toward the door as Cygne introduces herself, lips parted as if to speak, but her violent reaction to whatever was on the other side of the door has Gavin immediately on guard. Despite the absence of wind, purple-black miasma surges around Rocket's underboss as he curls his fingers around a capsule at his hip and pulls it free.

Once she'd recovered from putting her leg through the porch, should Cygne look over she'd see Gavin with a malicious looking Sandslash snarling at his side, its icy spines dark and unusual. Frostbite spreads beneath its clawed feet.

Needless to say, Gavin was a little paranoid.

"Bars," he repeats. "What the fuck. I swear, if this is someone's idea of a joke..."

But this was a Rocket mission and so he shakes his head and steps closer.

"Is your Muirne going to move, or are we going to need to find an alternate entry?"

ana fell

Once, Gavin might've sneered and mocked Cygne for not having total control of her Pokémon. Kanto's ethos has drilled into him that Pokémon were tools, made only to carry out your will, and would a hammer dare to disobey you? But a partnership with Lugia and the slow distancing from Rocket's old ways gives him enough pause to evaluate the situation with logic.

Why didn't the Cofagrigus want them to go inside?

He's puzzling over the potential dangers and wishing they could just ask, the way he'd ask Lugia if he knew something was troubling her, and that gives Cygne enough time to clear a better window to the... well, window.

"Could be one of ours," he suggests of the newly installed bars, though there's doubt in his tone. "If you're here about the job posting as well, that is. Wasn't me who posted it, nor do I know who did."

He didn't know everything that went on in Rocket, mind you, but it still disturbed him a little when he was entirely out of the loop.

"Well. Does she want us to stay out of the building entirely, or just that way in?"

ana fell

He's never been afraid of ghosts. At best they were misunderstood, at worst a nuisance. Perhaps a danger to some, but not to Gavin, who had a host of more terrifying Pokémon to fend off whatever specters might trouble him.

He does have a healthy trepidation for the unknown, however. So he steps into the house with caution, the snarling Sandslash at his heels, and keeps one hand on his pokeball belt with the expectation of danger.

It's obviously long abandoned by whoever used to live here, judging by not only the age of the television but the thick film of dust that coats every available surface. Breathing it in makes Gavin cough, lungs aching as he covers his mouth and screws up his expression. Not for the first time, he tells himself that he'll need to quit smoking.

When he recovers, he takes in the doors and Cygne's apparently suffering mental state.

"We'll take them one at a time," he suggests, gesturing down the hall in explanation. "One of us opens it, the other person keeps a lookout for danger. Sound good?"

He's already taking a step toward the door on the left.

ana fell

Moon's haunted.

The strange phrase comes back to Gavin as he observes the clock. He recognizes the wings, though it takes a moment before he remembers where he's seen their like before.

"Lunala," he mumbles, half to himself, and wonders where Valerio Dachev was now. Did it still travel with him? He doubts this has anything to do with the former Beast, but...

"Fuck!"

Gavin shouts in alarm and staggers back from the clock as its hands begin to spin out of control. As glass explodes across the room, a flurry of ice follows — Gavin's Sandslash has leapt into the room beneath a HAILSTORM, frost spreading beneath thick claws that tear through a rotting wooden floor. It snarls and swings its head around, furious in the absent of a threat on which it might let out its frustrations at being startled.

Gavin processes the sudden sensory overload, blinks, and miasma swells to choke the room with its presence. For a moment, it looks as though the underboss intends to follow the sound and confront who-or-whatever had slammed the door, but after a beat he turns to Cygne and sweeps a cutting gaze over her injury. She certainly wouldn't be escaping this place in any kind of hurry. He clicks his tongue in frustration, fingers ghosting along his pokeball belt and eyes narrow. He didn't have many healers on-hand, but...

A Lucario emerges in a flash of red. Not a shadow, like the Sandslash; a regular Pokémon.

"Calm," he growls toward his Sandslash, who bares its teeth at him before seeming to think better of a challenge, hunching low and ripping at the floor with its steel claws.

"Pull that out when you're ready; my Lucario will heal what it can."

He clicks his tongue and gestures to the door, and the temperamental Sandslash lunges to stand as a barrier between them and the rest of the house.

ana fell

Cygne's Zoroark reacts quicker than its trainer, yanking out the glass and allowing Niamh's life dew to pour into the wound. Droplets of dew turn pink with blood as the wound closes beneath the healing waters.

Gavin, too, is drawn in by the hole ripped in the floorboards by his Sandslash. He doubts it had been intentional on the creature's part — more an outlet for its frustration than a desire to uncover secrets — but it was nevertheless a convenient window into whatever was below. Squinting, Gavin intends to give his eyes a moment to adjust to the dark.

He doesn't have that opportunity.

When Cygne is yanked down into the hole, Eulalia follows, and so does he.

ana fell

"What the fuck," Gavin agrees, horrified.

He's seen his fair share of wild shit in Hoenn. He still isn't entirely sure what had gone down beneath the Church of Arceus, nor the cause behind whatever temporal rift had brought him to Dialga's domain. That's not even touching on Necrozma.

This, though, this was also pretty fucking bizarre.

Rather than puzzling over it, though, Gavin immediately goes on the offensive. He barely registers whatever spooky shit the individual was spouting, whistling for his Sandslash and being joined by the feral creature moments before the room erupts in a shower of glass.

When Sandslash's protect fades, it hisses and lunges for its foe with all the pent-up frustrations it hasn't been able to unleash.

"Cygne? You good?

ana fell