Even the sharpest of cuts couldn't leave a mark on him. Shielded by absolute resolve, all that echoed out was the dull thud of the underboss' spite fight against Felix's.

Deep Forest greens met hers in solidified apathy. Not toward her, but the situation in general. It was all so needless.

"You wanted to see me," He repeated, unwavering.

Elisabeth Fiorelli

Stoicism sealed his reaction behind an iron wall fortified by unrelenting apathy. He listened, but disagreements came with most of what was said. Nothing was done without reason, and to say the result of their missions fell onto him? That was just ignorant.

"Do you think you could've taken an avatar?"

No. The answer was no.

That was a fact.

"If I had obeyed your orders, your life would've been at risk. We would've lost much more than some supplies."

Elisabeth Fiorelli

Time and time again, Felix's armor proved resilience against the underboss' many lashes. They were ineffective. Duds against the embodiment of blanket stoicism.
[Break][break]
That is until the question of his security managed to scrap a lick in.
[Break][break]
Felix naturally twitched in recoil.
[Break][break]
'I can assure you that you have already failed to prevent that possibility from occurring. And you will undoubtedly prevent it from happening again.'
[Break][break]
His knuckles tightened beneath the cover of the desktop, with veins undoubtedly piercing through the pale slate of his fists.
[Break][break]
"Elisabeth,"
[Break][break]
Not underboss Fiorelli, or Ms fiorelli, but Elisabeth. Plain ol Elsiabeth, the florist who'd stolen his inability to grieve.
[Break][break]
"I'm not going to let you die by their hands. And that order you gave? It was a suicide mission."
[Break][break]
He shook his head, resolve burning deep within the emerald of his eyes.
[Break][break]
"It is my responsibility to keep you safe. And I intend to do that."
[Break][break]
Distant words called back to him, hushed in the way a memory travels.
[Break][break]
'If my life had ended due to an unexpected deviance in our mission, the fault would have been mine for failing to survive it. That is simply the way of things.'
[Break][break]
Back then, in the discomfort of her old cottage, Felix had found himself in agreeance with her sentiment. Her life was worthless to Rocket; no different than a pokemon worth discarding. But somehow, someway, that had change. In more ways than one.
[Break][break]
A pause broke his words, leading into a quiet reassurance.
[Break][break]
"I don't know why you think you are, but you're not expendable"

Elisabeth Fiorelli

"They're different.."

Their commands would've been followed without a second thought. But those two were experienced in battle, trained in the way of stealing life and securing their next tomorrow. Elisabeth was far from that. Inexperience wore at her bones, keeping her frail and susceptible to danger. Anyone could see it. Especially their enemies.

"They would've been able to handle themselves; you wouldn't. Not without help."

Elisabeth Fiorelli

In comparison to a sword, a needle might not amount to much. It's small, insignificant, and easily swept up by the nearest gust of wind. But when wielded to kill, even the tiniest of needles can make the deadliest of blows.

The killer need only understand where to strike.

"MATIAS SILPH?"

He echoed back the name, the initial shock from her words seeping into a silent broil of frustration.

When did this happen? How did she ever escape? Did this mean he knew of her association with Rocket?

Slightly widened eyes stared back up at her, the extent of inner turmoil barely contained. There was no hiding the hurt that leaked, much less the necessity for what came out next.

"why didn't you tell me?"

Elisabeth Fiorelli

A sudden uptick of vexation surged inside him. It grappled his stomach, twisting it into a tightly woven knot.

His face hardened against the implication of his own weakness. There was no handling an avatar - they held the power to command gods into actions. To be the vessels to which unholy strengths take flight. But to be reminded of that? To have one's face dragged across the mud? It never got easier.

"I would've been there for you," he reaffirms, never wavering to her blows, "like I will be now."

Elisabeth Fiorelli