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[attr="class","skullbody"]Isaac laughed wearily at Priscilla's comment about the shitshow. It was also a nice cover for her cpmments about Rocket, which he was very much a part of! "Trust me, you don't know the half of it," Isaac said.[break][break]

It seemed that she was more willing to listen this time, at least. Good. Genuine relief washed over Isaac's face at their agreement. "How about I do you one better?" he asked. "C'mon, guys. Let's give Priscilla here some space and privacy for, like. The first time today." Eesh. Poor girl. Isaac entered the nearest room, with his Pokemon piling in behind him.[break][break]

From there, he'd wait until she was ready, slumping against the door with a weary sigh. Watson was eagerly chattering away with Sectonia, who waved off his statements with a bashful sounding buzz. Duster was picking strands of web off of Kiryu, who was currently scratching at iron plating that was starting to regrow from being Autotomized off. Vivi had hopped into Isaac's lap, receiving some scritches behind the ear as she settled in.[break][break]

Not the picture of what one expected from a Rocket grunt, huh? Sometimes, the sheer lows of the org's reputation, and what it meant for Isaac's own, concerned him. At other times, it felt all too deserved. But how much say did he really have at this point? What's done is done.[break][break]

He'd chosen his path. Now he just had to walk it his own way.

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[attr="class","skullbody"]Once he had the go ahead, Isaac came out of the room he'd ducked into. It was just in time to see that Priscilla was wearing the same clothes as last time. Okay, it'd been a few days. Maybe it was just her preferred outfit or something. But with how there were those holes worn into it . . .[break][break]

Ugh. This was hard enough without accounting for the fact that he was putting someone in need out on the street.[break][break]

At times like this, Isaac wished he had a place to call his own. As is, the only shelter he could possibly offer for Shelter was the sub, which; A) No, B) wouldn't be a viable option even if she was cool with the whole Rocket thing, and C) No. Not that Priscilla would even accept the offer of a roof over her head. She could barely accept the offer of a snack, or a mostly empty wallet. And the last thing he'd want was for her to feel pressured and uncomfortable rooming with a strange guy.[break][break

At the same time, the idea of just leaving her to her own devices right after taking away her home sat in Isaac's gut like a lead weight. He couldn't do that to her. The moment she looked him in the eyes, it was too personal for him to just walk away like that. Ugh. What a conundrum. This was why he tried not to make it a habit to help people.[break][break]

Okay. So maybe he did. But those were all for the missions. Or for jobs. Or just little distractions he could push out of his mind. Or-[break][break]

Maybe he should stop following this train of thought.[break][break]

"Ever been camping?" Isaac asked. Part of it was trying something, anything to get back to a less internal line of questioning. The other part was to try and see how Priscilla would feel about a bit of a change in environment. Maybe, just maybe, he wasn't as helpless here as he feared.

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[attr="class","skullbody"]The sudden, loud, and insistent alarm in Priscilla's voice immediately shook Isaac out of that idea.[break][break]

His eyes widened with shock as Priscilla suddenly went from this reality to someplace distant and faraway. Okay. Camping out on a route just wasn't going to be an option here. Not in the slightest. It was no wonder this girl kept to the cities instead. Honestly, it would've been an oddity otherwise, considering her Pokemon were more than capable of watching her in the wilds.[break][break]

"Hey, hey, it's okay, I get it," he said, voice quick and nervous as if afraid of stumbling onto one wrong word too many. "You don't have to. Nobody's going to make you. We'll find you somewhere in the city. I promise." The more he spoke, the more his own tension and worry retreated back from his voice, replaced with his best attempt at warmth and calm.[break][break]

It just begged one question: where? He could rent her a hotel room, but that was a temporary solution even if she accepted the offer. He may've been squishier-hearted than he liked, but stipending someone's housing was beyond his means and wants alike. Another abandoned building, maybe? It seemed more reasonable, but if the demolition crew got a little greedy and bit off more building than the mission demanded . . . [break][break]

Fuck. This was hard.[break][break]

"Is this where you usually stay?" Isaac asked, voice cautious. "Or are there other places in town that we can bring you, too?"

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[attr="class","skullbody"]So she didn't have a usual haunt. Damnit. That was going to make this part so much harder. At least if she had a home base he could've escorted here there. Instead, this was going to get tricky. How was he going to find a place on such short notice? All the usual suspects were likely either lived in or full of strong wild Pokemon-[break][break]

Kurze.[break][break]

Before Isaac had caught the Bisharp, it was maintaining one of Slateport's many abandoned warehouses as its own turf. A Bisharp's territory was not an area one stepped into lightly. Would other squatters and wild Pokemon realize the area had been freed up? Or would they have long, long crossed the area off of their checklists?[break][break]

Isaad perked up a little at the thought, having finally come to a plan. "If Slateport's just as I remembered it a few weeks ago, we might be in luck," Isaac said, that mischievous grin forming back on his face. "If I can find the old warehouse one of my Pokemon was using as a den before being caught, we should be golden. He's . . . intimidating. So I doubt we'll be competing with many other tenants. It should have enough space and supplies to make a proper living space for the night, too."[break][break]

"Sound like a plan? Or do you have other ideas?" It seemed that, as much as he possibly could in a situation like this, Isaac was trying to make one thing clear to Priscilla; she had a say in her own fate. Ironic, considering what he needed to do. But perhaps that was why he was trying so hard to emphasize choice.

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[attr="class","skullbody"]Luckily, it would be a fairly quick walk to Slateport's abandoned warehouses. Turns out, abandoned buildings tended to stick together. Who knew? Isaac had unmasked by now, not wanting to draw the wrong kind of attention Priscilla's way by associating her with a Rocket grunt.[break][break]

It also meant he could stop at the Pokemon Center to make a quick replacing, subbing Vivi out for the man of the hour himself. Kurze squinted with his remaining good eye as he counted down the warehouse numbers, trying to remember just where he'd left his old turf.[break][break]

Rather quickly, Isaac noticed where his gaze was trailing; gash marks. Of course![break][break]

He and Kurze followed the slashes like a pathway drawn through a child's maze, finally finding a door that had the everloving tar beaten out of it. Right. Isaac could remember now where Duster's bone and Kurze's blade met, the two battling all across the length of the territory. To think a place where he'd almost been killed would now serve as a sanctuary.[break][break]

Isaac pressed against the door, putting an ear to it so that he could listen for any other squatters. However, Kurze seemed to have other ideas. He nudged Isaac aside, kicked the door wide open, and let out a piercing metallic screech. Isaac didn't speak Pokemon, but from how Alolan Rattata scurried out of the building in a panic, he knew exactly what Kurze had said.[break][break]

Daddy's home.[break][break]

A metallic, scraping laugh escaped the Bisharp as he made his point. To celebrate, he slashed another mark into the door, deeper and fresher than any of the others. Between the escape of the rats and the clear statement this represented, it was unlikely any Pokemon would be messing with Priscilla's sleep tonight. He then stepped aside, grandiosely gesturing towards the warehouse.[break][break]

It was exactly as he'd remembered it. Fallen shelves and all. "Heh . . . I think we forgot to clean up after ourselves," Isaac admitted. He sent Kiryu out, the two of them getting to work on dusting up anything broken and picking up anything that had collapsed.[break][break]

On the bright side, while they were occupied, Priscilla and her crew would have free reign to roam. For the most part, this was a single, enclosed room, though there was a single side door that seemed dedicated to office space. However, if one looked closely, they may notice what appeared to be a door shaped cut in the side of one of the walls. Bar a blanket haphazardly thrown over it, there didn't seem to be any locks. How odd.

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[attr="class","skullbody"]It appeared that this small opening was, quite literally, a room cut into the side of the room. With the curtain moved aside, it would be trivial for Priscilla to enter.[break][break]

Perhaps the first thing that she would notice was the large pile of loot sitting in the middle of the room. It was a mound almost s foot tall in height that sparkled the second the light from the main room hit it. A lot of the objects in there were junk; broken knives, crushed soda cans, particularly interesting looking pieces of scrap metal, and plenty of random decorative baubles. However, there were also some actual valuables tucked within; rare coins, the occasional piece of jewelry, even an entire mostly-intact television! However, with how many jagged metal points stuck out from the pile, reaching in may not have been a great idea.[break][break]

The rest of the room was no less busy. There was a series of rings carved into one of the walls, as if trying to form a makeshift dartboard. There was also a well-worn Pokedoll hanging up by a cord, the stuffing raining from it a sign that it may have been used as a punching bag. A broken mirror lie on another wall, glass spilled around what seemed to be a pile of browned bandages.[break][break]

Finally, there were the cots. One was particularly well worn, clearly having seen use up until a few days ago. The cot next to it, however, was eerily pristine. Not a wrinkle was present on the cot's surface, and it was the only of the cots to have a pillow. Atop the pillow was a single black and red flower, the one sign of life and beauty in this otherwise industrious building. To the right of this cot was one that had been absolutely destroyed. Slice after slice had reduced it to tattered cloth and splintered wood. The broken head crest of another Bisharp was plunged into the remains as if it were a flag. The other cots, unused, had all fallen into varying states of disarray.[break][break]

Far, far to the back of the room was a mess of haphazardly tossed blanket. Shattered flecks of red and black shell could be seen poking out from under them, but only barely.[break][break]

The air in the room was heavy. It seemed like a home, albeit a makeshift one. And yet . . .

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