there is a thrill that comes with the chase. also, she's tipsy. so her escape isn't as graceful as it ought to be. she's brutishly shoving through people. chips are flying and people are yelling. she's laughing through all of it - so hard that her cheeks are hurting and her face is red.

fingers slip against a fire exit door. she throws herself down a flight of stairs. boots thud heavily on the bottom landing and she pauses for just a moment, breathing hard. above, about five security guards are still racing after her. 

she draws crux's ball from her pocket and lopes alongside the disaster pokemon. carmine eyes glow with future site and her gait lengthens, drawing parker to follow her around traffic, passersby, and any other obstacle that might impede their pursuers. most abandon their search early on, but she'd made enough of a ruckus to leave one determined guard to the chase.

eventually, she turns a corner and crux sits down, licking at a paw. parker doubles over, still grinning, now quite sweaty. she laughs, spits, and then straightens. the back of her hand serves as a towel for her forehead. 

crux shakes out his fur and stands, trotting off in another direction. parker follows; halfway to their destination, she remembers they have a rendezvous point and that's when crux noses to get put back into his ball. 

it doesn't surprise her to see the blond bartender waiting outside the bar. 

"holy shit, holy shit, man," she says as she approaches, raising a hand for a fist bump. "first of all, you rock. and second, fuck that guy. how'd he look, eh?"

Isaac Merlo

☉

yeah, she does kinda rock, doesn't she? sometimes she flexes in front of the mirror, but that's pretty much the only time she gives herself a pat on the back for her accomplishments. a few of her flings have told her she'd make hella money making gym videos, but it's not like she can really afford to plaster her face and her gym schedule for all of hoenn to see. 

not when a small percentage of its population has a (probably broken) bone to pick with her. 

she's confused, at first, at the lack of scratches following her uppercut to his face. then he explains and it makes her blink, pause, and then double over again in laughter. 

"and you rock too, lil' dude," parker says appreciatively and holds a fist out for duster. 

"ugh, fuck that felt so good. didja see the arm candy on him?" at this point, she's opened up the bar door and is waving isaac in, 'cause of course they're gonna have a drink together. she offhandedly orders something sweet for herself, but keeps the conversation going. 

"wanted t'punch him as soon as i saw those tits. it's a crime against god thinking his hands could get anywhere near 'em." underneath the uncouth jesting, she hopes blondie made it out okay. that she's not with with crusty, in the sense he's got someone to take out his losings on. 

she snubs her nose.

"gotta admit - didn't think we'd actually 'ccomplish the mission."

Isaac Merlo

☉

ah, her poor man's piña colada makes its way over to her. it's shaken alright and not nearly as sweet as she'd like, but eh, it's still good. she sucks at the straw and lounges, finding it damn easy to be comfortable around this guy. she likes his vibe. 

like, he beat the shit out of a pervert - what's not to like about his vibe?

"i've gotten away with so much shit with my swagger. it's nutso. grown ass men really be out here with a single brain cell when i tell 'em the blood splattered on my arms is paint. gods, or maybe so many of us are all just shit and 'ould rather look the other way."

she shakes her head. a little bit of drink makes parker philosophical (and horny).

isaac opens the door to her fantasies and she cocks a brow up. ain't no way he's fishing to see if she toes the line enough to tango with him. so is he just ribbing her? 

whatever. she likes him. she'll go along with it. 

"hard not to, right? girls are just so pretty. the pretty ones, at least. all the scarred and muscled ones - " she pauses, thinking of glimmering mercurial eyes, hands flexing tighter around her glass, "well, not so much. harder to charm 'em, y'know, if they look like me." 

she flexes for emphasis.

"uh, but yeah. i completely fuckin' forgot why we were there. y'can blame the girls and my unwavering sense of duty to protect women's rights." 

Isaac Merlo

☉

well, ain't that the truth. but parker would be out a job if she didn't ask questions. questions like - where's the money, bax? when are we gonna get the money, liz? how many fingers i gotta break 'fore ya tell me what you told those officers? 

her questions always needed answering or there'd be someone bigger and meaner asking her the same damn things. 

"yeah, worth it," she says with a wolfish grin, happy to shrug the more melancholy thoughts away in lieu of another sip of her drink. isaac's own drink looks fan-fucking-tasting though and she admires it unabashedly. 

parker jones is a solo act. all she needs is herself and, on rare occasion, her blaziken. sometimes she's not sure which of 'em scare their clients more. she doesn't really do jobs like this. up until recently, she's been doing just dandy keeping her nose out of rocket's shit and minding her own business. 

being a small cog in the machine has never bothered her. but the faction war in the ultra deep sea, her tango with Cillian Quinn, and a certain adorable scientist have pretty much blown up whatever stress-free life of crime she thought she had. 

"don't really got a number two, but - " and then she stops. is her work with nomi, like, classified? should she really be sharing that stuff with her partner? she's so out of the loop, she doesn't even know if he's above her station. 

this could be a test, for all she knows (but gods, she hopes it's not). either way, better to play it safe. if not for her, then for nomi. 

"don't count me out like that," she finishes, albeit a tad late. "i hit like a brick, but i ain't stupid. now, what the hell are you drinkin'? 'cause i think i need two."

Isaac Merlo

☉

no wonder this guy swindled his way in as a bartender so easily. he's got an easy, silver-tongued charm about him, but without the heebie jeebies. the smart part of parker's brain is ringing alarm bells and telling her don't you damn let down your guard, but after several drinks, that's been muffled by the ingenious thought: this guy's cool as fuck.

"'buncha rums' is literally my motto," she says, and her tongue is a bit thick in her mouth now, but in that buzzed, syrupy-sweet kind of way. noticeable, but endearingly so.

"oh yeah?" she says and lets go of the straw she had been mindlessly nibbling on. she scoots a little closer to isaac. the bar stool squeaks as it shuffles over the floor, adding to the hundreds of pre-existing scratches from buzzed patrons like her. 

"okay. i like ya, so lend me yer ear for a sec. i got game, right? and there was this girl i was into and i thought she was into me, and we fucked and all and it was good. like good. and i'm like, 'oh shit, i kinda like her,' right?

"an' i thought she was into me too. long story short - i was hella wrong. think i fucked that one up pretty good. an' then there's the sea witch, but she's taken, but she fucks with my head, y'know?

"but all that aside, like, it doesn't even matter, 'cause i don't think about 'em anymore. there's this girl an' she's so good, dude. no fuckin' way she ain't got someone like the sea witch does. an' if not that, what if i shoot my shot an' i'm reading it wrong, right? like the first time."

she drains the rest of her drink and shakes her head. "y'think a brewery trip'll really impress some'ne?"

Isaac Merlo

☉

he gets brownie points immediately. one point for ordering another round for them - hell yeah, more bro time (because she's a lonely POS) - and a second point for the drink being as damn delicious as it looked. not many people she knows care for all this sugar. or the hangover that follows. 

point threeee for the actual advice he gives her. she's nodding her head with the straw in her mouth, wide-eyed and entranced, half-listening in the way that the tipsy mind can only manage, but the feeling is there. the important snippets, the bits that mean the most, that are making her feel things - like courage, for one, are so bright and tangible.

"dunno if i've ever been called a breeze," she says with a snort. 

tell him about her? but she wants to keep nomi all to herself. and besides, there's a very good reason why she shouldn't be talking about nomi so blasé, right? she is, after all, a very important person whose life now hinges on parker's unwavering loyalty to rocket.

she hesitates and this time the confliction is there on her face. there is a different fear in her eyes, not of the moony-eyed scare of rejection, but real terror.

"shit, sorry." she sets her drink down. cracks her knuckles nervously. "i don't even know your name and here i am spillin' my damn relationship troubles on ya." her leg twinges. a painful reminder of the cost of her slip-up. 

"maybe i'll tell ya 'bout 'er when ya teach me how to make one a these puppies." she juts a chin towards the hurricane. "can't risk ya sweepin' her off her feet from me 'fore i shoot my shot, y'know?"

still, for his sake, she tugs her phone out of her pocket and pulls up the screen to add a new contact. she slides it over to him with a grin and picks her drink back up, missing the message notification that pops up at the top of the screen.

from millie:
wyd tonight? miss u 😛

Isaac Merlo

☉

"isaac," she mutters once under her breath. and despite the tipsiness and the brain fog that follows, she'll remember it. she's good like that, remembering faces and the names attached to them. comes with the job, really. at the end, she makes sure to add a, "nice to finally meetcha."

spoken for. 

oh, shyet. okay, that's good news. 'cause parker's pretty sure if isaac and nomi ever got to talking on the rocket sub, they'd hit it off like two peas in a pod and nomi might look at him with that moony-eyed stare she has on her face sometimes (that she has on when she's looking at you, parker, you dolt). 

"engineer?" she says and tries to think about that. does engineer = scientist? is it one of those things where, like, all engineers are scientists, but not all scientists are engineers? from the way nomi's talked about her research before and with all the misty stuff, she doesn't think it makes her an 'engineer.'

but then he says she's a total stunner: check. has a laugh that lights up the room: check. and is definitely one of the smartest girls he's ever met. check, check, check. 

he hands her phone back and she still looks troubled. "her name's not - " she catches herself, mmm's a little bit, and then rephrases: "what's 'er name? 'cause my girl's the smartest girl ever too." 

it's then she notices the notification from millie. ugh. take a hint, girl, pleaseeee. the message chain gets swiped into the trash yet again. right underneath it, though, is nomi's name. and she can't resist. something gives her the courage to rapidly type a move isaac told her she shouldn't do earlier.

Isaac Merlo

☉