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[attr="class","skullbody"]Isaac was never the #1 costume expert. That was always more his little brother's thing. But when you were a big brother, you tended to pick up on that kind of stuff through osmosis, so Isaac was able to get Zev nice and ready for the show. Simple. Clean. Enough room to do Zev stuff in. Nothing fancy needed for this job.[break][break]

His own had been the subject of quite a bit of debate. Isaac did a double take when ana fell first suggested Fletchling to him, but apparently he wasn't just some 12 year old in outdatedly tiny pants anymore. Apparently there were, like. Four of them? And they all grew up to be incredibly hot? Weird. How did they keep growing up if Zubatman was always the same age? Comics were weird. But she was the expert, not Isaac, so into the outfit he went.[break][break]

Now he and Zev were ready to go out there and cut a rug. If Isaac was lucky, that'd be the only thing Zev would be cutting. But Isaac was rarely lucky, and Zev was so set in his nature that the Skorpi and the Politoed would've said "daaaaaaamn." There was a reason why, instead of just picking Zubatman, Isaac hit the web to find superheroes associated with the color red.[break][break]

Yeah. No. This day was going to be some sort of fucked up hidden agenda. The second Zev mentioned a business meeting, the writing was on the wall. Isaac hoped they'd be able to get away with just a bit of extortion tonight. Until then, there'd be music, gourmet food, and plenty of rich, powerful people. Why not kick back and enjoy?[break][break]

"No unnecessary attention, got it," Isaac said. He didn't need to say the quiet part out loud. This was a party. There'd be a boatload of necessary attention tonight. The more of it he had, the less of it would burden Zev. Really, by slapping a winning smile onto his face and making his way to the horse divorce table (Isaac's train of thought was not spelling that shit, they were for eating, not for brainpower), he was doing Zev a favor.[break][break]

Justifications like that always made it easier, huh?

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[attr="class","skullbody"]The venue was beyond extravagant; it was downright decadent. Gold and white colors dominated the eye, with tasteful accents of pastel blue and pink highlighting them. The floor space was big, the bouquets were bigger, and the cake was downright enormous. It was the kind of establishment that Isaac would've never expected to set foot in before his career in Rocket.[break][break]

It was also now crawling with people dressed in superhero costumes. The clash between what Gregor Mansfield thought was an appropriate party for his daughter and the theme that she'd insisted on was palpable. Frankly, if Isaac was in the guy's shoes, he would've cut the ritz and glamor. If his daughter wanted a superhero and supervillain themed party, he would've gone hog wild on the set design. Less dance hall, more Zubatcave. But the grown-ups would've clearly blanched at that. Ah well. Their loss.[break][break]

"Cheers," Isaac said, shaking his interior design thoughts to clink glasses with Zev. Unlike his boss, he was more the sipper type than the shooter type. Nothing wrong with letting a little bit of the bubbly stretch out through the night. He'd just have to make sure he didn't lose track of it. Something about being at a party with Zev inspired a little bit of hypervigilance in Isaac. Maybe it was because the guy was practically Mr. Worst Case Scenario. Maybe it was because by now, Isaac was acutely aware of his own status as a walking disaster. Who knew? Isaac didn't. He just knew it'd be a cold day in hell before he took his eyes off that glass.[break][break]

And now, finally, the horse divorce table! With Zev's attention split, Isaac decided to him a solid and help load some appetizers onto his plate. This way he wouldn't have to split his focus between business partners and tiny hot dogs. Isaac's own plate would be a classic one-of-everything special. Most of these foods, Isaac had never even seen before. His party food tended to be less caviar, more pizza rolls. Today, that changed. Just what wonders lied in the palates of the rich and famous?[break][break]

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[attr="class","skullbody"]And so, Isaac was officially put on treat toting duty. Also, his name was apparently Jake. Thank goodness that was established now, rather than after Isaac opened his big mouth. Jake nodded as he took the plates, flashing that classic winning smile towards Mansfield. For now, that was all he needed to do. People in his role were better off seen, not heard.[break][break]

Okay. Wow. That was a really depressing way to view a party. Maybe he should just enjoy the free food instead of attempting to decipher the socioeconomic political maneuverings of the fabulously wealthy.[break][break]

If he did, he'd have to navigate them alone. Zev's business meeting had arrived, and that meant he was outta here. "I'll try not to have too much fun without you!" Isaac teased, playing up the role of younger cousin just enough. Lay it on too thick, you're a brat. Don't lean into it enough, you're a bore.[break][break]

And now the world was Isaac's oyster. Bidding a nod of acknowledgment and a smile to Mansfield's companions, he took his plate of snacks (Wait a second! And apparently Zev's! Ah, jeez, the guy was probably too busy with his important meeting to chow down. He made a mental note to pool them together once he was out of eyeshot so he didn't look like a glutton) and wandered off.[break][break]

That begged a big, important question. Now what? Isaac didn't know anyone here, and he tended to be surprisingly quiet before he got to know someone. Best case scenario, he'd end up getting sucked into enough conversations that he could fake it til he could make it. Worst case scenario . . . well, he had food at least. And it was good![break][break]

He stalked off in search of either good music to dance to or interesting conversations to eavesdrop on. Who knew? Maybe he'd end up learning a thing or two of interest about Hoenn's upper crust. He wasn't sure if anything could beat the Ranger pie fight as the juiciest secret in the region, but if any place could give it a run for its money, it was a fancy party for the rich.

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[attr="class","skullbody"]"-and so I said, Clauncher? I hardly even know 'er!"[break][break]

While Zev was busy ending lives, Isaac had found a crew of people to hang out with. Currently he was standing in a pack with a few others, other restless youth of around the same age as him. They hovered between the snack table and the open bar, enjoying the party's soundtrack of the usual top 20 singles from a distance.[break][break]

Really, was it any surprise that Isaac had fallen in with the misfits and wallflowers? While he was surprisingly gregarious, he was also a man that did his best work on the fringes. Even now, he was doing more than just fraternizing. When he wasn't joking around with the others, he got to hear them grump about their parents' lines of works, boast about their own burgeoning opportunities, and score some sweet gossip about Hoenn's upper crust.[break][break]

The open bar was quite the potent weapon in this war of secrets. Loose lips sunk ships, and a little bit of drink did just the trick for loosening them up. By always being the cool guy who did the drink runs, the others didn't even have the chance to find out that his rum and cokes were far more coke than rum.[break][break]

Sure, he wouldn't have much time to work this strategy. Between the start of the "deal", the dirty deed, and the search for a way out, maybe an hour at most would have passed. But rich young men at an open bar being plied with endless amounts of alcohol could drink with the best of them.[break][break]

Once Zev was an eyeshot, Isaac nodded towards him, raising his glass. "Eyy, cuz, how's business treating ya?" he asked. Zev had been enough real drunks to know that Isaac was just putting on a bit of a show, but Isaac's drinking buddies were too blitzed to pick out the difference. In their eyes, he was just a regular part of the crew.

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[attr="class","skullbody"]"I'd say I'm glad to hear, but. C'mon. You know I didn't doubt ya for a second." Isaac gave Zev a friendly, teasing elbow of acknowledgment. He'd never be so daring in most cases, but, hey. His job was to be the jokey, semi-irreverent cousin, and he was thriving in that role![break][break]

"How's about it, guys? Toast to our big day?" he asked. Isaac's "friends" didn't need to hear anything else. They saw an excuse to take, and by Arceus they were taking it. They waved their glasses high, alcohol messily spilling out of the rims. It was exactly the kind of sloppiness you saw when you were wasting time at an open bar because your rich dad had to start networking at some kid's birthday.[break][break]

While they were distracted by their cups, Isaac leaned a little bit closer to Zev. "Got some pretty dece dirt from these guys. Nothing, like, huge. But a layer or two past what you'd see in the news. Maybe we can talk shop later," he whispered. Then he leaned away from Zev, bursting out into laughter. "Oh, man. That's a good one. You're killing me with those jokes, cuz," he said.[break][break]

"Me? I'm having a great time! These dudes know how to party," Isaac said, gesturing to his "friends" with his cup. "But, I already know what you're gonna say, huh?"[break][break]

Wow. He was even giving Zev the chance to naturally segue to an exit. He may not have been much of a killer, but when it came to the "cloak" half of "cloak and dagger" Isaac knew his stuff.

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