on Tempest Quinn's alert, concealed bodyguards mobilize from their positions. but her stoutland emerges from its pokeball first. in a flash of fur, the large hound pushes her back with its thick mop.

as calls are made, the commissioner is ushered through the nearest exit. in times like these, Balder Schwartz's name resonates in her mind. echoing in an empty, dimly lit hall.

Tempest Quinn Cillian Quinn

They may have talked about it, but in the mere seconds between suddenly finding himself undisguised and face-to-face with the commissioner and his partner tackling him, there's enough delay in logical processing for Gavin to be genuinely offended.

And then genuinely in pain, when he impacts the ground.

It makes it look real enough when he fights back, because for a moment it is real to him ⁠— survival instincts kick in with a swirl of purple-black miasma and a surge of adrenaline, and he flips Temp to pin him with an arm across his neck.

There would be a brief, startling moment where Temp might see the lust of violence in his gaze before reason catches up to instinct. The suffocating pressure of his forearm abates enough for Temp to breathe. Gavin will apologize, later.

Lugia, bless her corrupted heart, does not need nor wait for instruction.

New, frightening power erupts from the cursed legend, violent winds whipping up as the SPRINGTIDE STORM impacts friend and foe alike. It separates Gavin from Temp, and he feels something crack as he lands on his wrist. Stumbling to his feet, well aware that the false threat of Temp was turning into the very real threat of League officials, Gavin releases several of his shadow Pokémon at once.

All he needed was to buy himself enough time to get out.

Tempest Quinn dahlia goode

Oh, if only the Commissioner weren't here. Or anyone else for that matter.

Cillian Quinn knocks the wind out of him by pinning him in the tumble, snarls over him. His oxygen starved brain sees the want for violence and sputters out a fleeting "That's Hot". The instinct of his own kicks in as he struggles for breath. I kept trying to look up how to get out a neck pin but just found ways to relieve neck pain. We're pretend whatever bullshit I write is semi accurate. Temp is in the middle of trying to get a leg wrapped around Gavin's chest when Lugia hits.

He's flung away. A poorly placed pillar gets in the way of his landing. His left foot crunches against it, bending awkwardly when he lands.

Well, fuck.

It stings, but Temp just grabs the offending pillar and uses it to drag himself onto his working foot.

Poor Captain had gotten flung into a wall and lays there, stunned and confused. He has tears forming in his eyes as he stares up at the shadowed Legend.

Temp throws out three random pokeballs from his bag.

Thankfully, none of them are fish that flop uselessly.

Chande laughs and sinks into the ground. Medi seems startled, but then takes up a wary fighting stance. Bewildered. The ghost of his mother's ship looms over the field.

"Don't..." His voice cracks, but then he yells out. Tries to make it seem real. "Stall him! He can't get away!"

Gavin might've felt bad for Captain and the rest of Temp's poor, confused Pokémon if not for the adrenaline and fear that overpowered everything else in his mind. There exists a very real possibility that the Commissioner's people might rally in time to stop him, detain him, and then—

Rocket is different, now, but he still doesn't relish the thought of facing Walsh after being captured by the League. If he ever managed to get away.

He has no doubt that Lugia can sense that fear. He can feel her rage, in return, the suffocating pressure of it crushing down upon them. The winds of emotion have no chance to die down before they're gathered into a HURRICANE that tosses away anyone who gets too close to her chosen, buying him time. Doubtless it strikes Temp's team, as well, and scatters the contents of the room in its violent gales.

DARK SPIKES scattered by his Roserade discourage approach, and his Tyranitar lets out a TERRIFYING roar.

Sandslash stays close, PROTECTING its master as Gavin's Claydol spins up.

IMPRISON would hopefully stop others from teleporting onto the scene.

Tempest Quinn