Gavin had, in fact, supported the decision to raise Elisabeth to the position of admin. Her unabashed enjoyment of the crimes they'd committed together might've been unsettling if not for the knowledge that such pleasures stemmed from a troubled past. He'd found in her a kindred spirit, and a selfish desire to raise her to new heights that she might help to further his own goals.

That, and she was delightful to talk to.

So the underboss is at ease when she opens the door, the PRESSURE of the room intensifying as she steps into the space not in an effort to cause discomfort, but merely a side-effect to Lugia's presence beyond.

"Elisa." Warm, welcoming. "Come in."

He doesn't know what this is about; hopefully nothing too terrible.

"How can I help you?"

He gestures wordlessly to a pot of peppermint tea on his desk, an offering. His own cup still steams, suggesting a recent brewing.

Elisabeth Fiorelli

"There are worse things to be associated with."

The sharp scent of peppermint does what it can to mask the clinging odor of cigarette smoke. His office is spotless and well-kept, but nothing can be done about the subpar air circulation in the submarine HQ.

I really ought to get a proper office in Sootopolis.

He inclines his head as she correctly assumes his curiosity, allowing her to explain herself without interruption. His expression pinches at the mention of the Darkest Day; Tempest Quinn was still in recovery from those horrible events, and Chu-e Choi...

He shakes his head softly, subconsciously, as if to clear it of negative thought.

"By all means, that's what I'm here for."

Elisabeth Fiorelli

The shift in Gavin's demeanor is immediate. Casual warmth sours into cold hostility, though it does not seem directed at his guest. Fingers curl tight around the delicate handle of the teacup, and he sets it down with forced calm.

He doesn't ask why she wants to know; she's an admin, now. It's her right.

But it's more than that. She's a friend.

"He's a pillar of the League, an avatar, and a thorn in our side."

But that didn't justify what they'd done to him. What more Gavin would've done, with his own two hands, if he'd had the opportunity before the councilman's escape. His fingers twitch as if with the desire to wrap around FERNANDO SILPH's throat.

"Do you disagree with the brutality?" His golden gaze is dark, molten. "It was justified, I assure you."

I should've killed him while I had the chance.

Elisabeth Fiorelli

TW: mentions of sexual assault

No. It is not Elisabeth Fiorelli whom Gavin means to fight.

His nostrils flare with a deep pull of breath, and Gavin composes himself in its exhale. A collared beast, indeed; collared by Rocket, that those fangs and claws might suit their purpose. So too had they taught him restraint, to bury the self beneath obedience.

He is losing that, lately, his true nature shining through the cracks left by the departure of crueler masters.

"My qualms with Silph are personal."

He raped my sister.

That is not how Lulu Flint had characterized it to him. Not exactly. But it's how Gavin sees FERNANDO SILPH's act of brainwashing, without a doubt.

"He used his fucking mist to brainwash my sister. My regret is that I didn't have the time to castrate him before that ⁠— thing busted him out." He has no name for Mewtwo, a creature of Silph's creation. He doesn't even know if it's in any way affiliated with Silph; during the chaos of the Darkest Day, it's entirely possible that all manner of disturbances had occurred.

Elisabeth Fiorelli

Gavin can recognize fear. He's been trained to. But, perhaps blessedly for Elisabeth, he does not take her alarm for anything more than a reasonable reaction to an abhorrent situation. Any suspicions he might've had are buried in his seething hatred for Silph.

"He's an Avatar. Tapu Fini."

Gavin cocks his head, a cruel satisfaction glinting in his eyes.

"Was an Avatar," he corrects, soft. "Not anymore."

M.A.G.M.A had taken care of that.

"That mist of his turned people mad during an excursion. I'll show you the files." Sure enough, he opens the laptop on his desk and navigates to the report made by then-underboss Chu-e Choi on the EVENTS. "Who knows what else it can do?" Another pause, a pull at the corner of his mouth. "Could do."

They'd neutered the beast, at very least. That had to count for something.

Elisabeth Fiorelli

"Lulu snapped out of it herself." He's proud of Lulu Flint for coming to her own conclusions, and uses her name in the moment without thought. "She—"

He stops, realizing his mistake. His eyes narrow.

"That stays between us."

For Lulu was but a name, but it was the name of Rocket's brilliant head scientist whose amber eyes matched his own golden hues. The resemblances were there, for those who knew to look.

"It wore off after some time apart, we think."

Then, the pointed question, entirely ignoring her second one in its favor:

"Has something happened to you?"

She wouldn't be the first, but blessedly she might be the last.

Elisabeth Fiorelli

"That wasn't my question."

His words are paired with the sharp, penetrating stare of a Rocket underboss, but there's a softness in those amber depths that suggest something other than a reprimand. He's worried for her, though uncertain of how to sidestep around her pride to express as much.

He knows what it is to feel helpless. Scared.

He knows what it is to have been abused.

But he knows the perils of pride, as well, and the difficulty to bare one's shortcomings before another.

So he offers something more.

"Have you any gaps in your memory? Injuries you can't explain? Strange occurrences or changes in behaviour?"

He might not state it explicitly, but Elisabeth is smart: these are things he's relating to his sister. The bruises she couldn't explain, the uncertainty of time, the fact that she no longer needed glasses despite vision issues since they were children.

Elisabeth Fiorelli