sylvie is asleep. after a late night call that had her working until around 4 in the morning (the brains had gotten in the garbage disposal, for gods' sake), she'd almost passed out, still bloodied on her bed by the time she got home. except she's too careful for her own good, so she'd dragged her sorry self into the bathroom, scrubbed the traces of grime and sweat and blood from her skin, and had elysium eat her ruined boots.

cassie had been told not to wake her unless the world was ending so she sits up above the wine cabinet, tail twitching, watching aaron and his pikachu cry out for the former's slumbering kin. 

she tilts her head and a glass on the counter next to aaron topples off the granite and onto the floor.

several moments later, sylvie is in the double-doorway connecting the living room to the bedroom, wearing boxers and an oversized sleep tee. her hair is mussed and falls over her shoulders rather than strung up in a pony and she looks absolutely, positively agitated. 

"aaron, did you break into my house?"

aaron faust

☉

she deliberates. scolding her brother is a losing battle so in the face of his obvious lie, she simply scrubs the grogginess away from her face and decides to wake up. "yeah, that would be nuts. i probably wouldn't offer someone who bne's any of my homemade jam biscuits."

before anything else, she requires coffee. abandoning any last thought of returning to bed, she steps into the living room and reaches to ruffle his hair on her way around the kitchen counter. 

"cassie, pick that up," she chides and the little espeon harumphs as she jumps down onto the counter, ears twitching. the glass picks itself back up and sylvie puts a pot of coffee on and pulls out the jam and the biscuits from the fridge.

enough for two, of course.

"so what's up, aar?"

aaron faust

☉

"yeah, i just need to - " she starts, but is cut off by one of aaron's paws scooping several off of the tray. "heat them up." they're not terrible when they're cold, but they're not perfect and sylvie strives for perfection with her food. she pops the rest of them in the toaster oven and sips her coffee while aaron happily munches away.

"good news. hm, okay. did you find your missing favorite pair of socks?" impossible. they're tucked in her drawer right now. "meet someone? no, that can't be right. you wouldn't come to me first of all people to tell."

she snaps her fingers right as the oven beeps. "you got a new job?"

aaron faust

☉

he inhales the fridge-cold pastries and she can tell they're just not the right texture - too dry like that, without the fresh jam dressed up on them. so she keeps hold of her coffee in one hand and reaches back into the fridge to grab a carafe of a leftover batch of ginger lemonade from yesterday. 

she puts together a glass for him and then turns her back, setting coffee down so she can flick fingers over the hot food and onto the waiting plate.

"ow, fuck," she spits under her breath, shaking out her pointer and then sticking it right in her mouth. heat melts away with the press of her tongue, which makes it all the more ridiculous when she grins wide and looks back at her bro.

"no way! i mean, i've heard you have to be a bit braindead to fail the interview, but hell yea, aar! so when are you challenging the elite, huh? when can we start calling you champ?"

aaron faust

☉

"yeah," she says, flexing the tip of her finger. it's a little red, but the heat's already mostly died down. she reaches for her coffee mug and waits for the food to cool a little bit. the jam spreads ever-so-slowly thanks to the heat and her stomach growls at the smell filling the kitchen.

"i'm sure greyson didn't want you to fail," she says, sure of it. aaron failing only meant he'd never shut up about it at home; god spare Greyson Connors if he had to listen to that.

"pff, how about champ in training? baby champ? champino? lil champ? and just five? aar, it's five of the toughest trainers in hoenn. technically the five toughest trainers in hoenn. you have to take this seriously if you want to win."

she finally bites into her biscuit and it's absolute perfection. the jam coats the roof of her mouth, sweet with sugar and fresh berries. people who don't cook for themselves are chumps.

"stop that. you know she just gets insecure. things come so easy to you and she has to work twice as hard." she swallows with a wash of coffee, mming. "she just has a bit more growing up to do."

sylvie faust

☉

"'kay, baby champ," she teases. he'll get there. she's no doubt about it. and if he fails the first time, he won't be kept down long. 

pollux and cassie are most certainly not battling material. they're good for a quick getaway and finishing off folks that have been left behind at a scene in haste. to be fair, they've probably seen more death than aaron's pokemon, but that doesn't mean they can battle for shit. 

she nibbles on her biscuit. 

"yeah, well, you two are annoying sometimes. growing up is annoying." she slurps her coffee and stretches. "and i dunno if you've noticed, but the world is kinda going to shit. we're better off than most, yeah? i'll take arguing with you dummies any day over hoenn shenanigans." 

aaron faust

☉

he's plenty annoying. case in point - the fact that he's even here, after breaking into her house. the fact that he leaves her socks at his house for her to find, one crumpled up and stinky under the couch and the other in pollux's mouth. yuck.

"yes, way," she quips back and takes an exaggerated slurp of her coffee. another biscuit hits the plate and she doesn't bother stifling her chuckle. 

when he brings up rocket, her eyes glitter with amusement. "'course i am," she says. "as much as i can. i don't think rocket wants anything to do with the bodies after they've been dealt with."

she doesn't often talk about her job, not with him. there aren't many people who understand the allure of a career in the dead body industry, but hey, at least she'll always have work. and at the end of the day, not talking about the job makes it easier to hide the grimier parts of it - all that rot and blood money hidden in decay.

"i'm more worried about you. you get that title and you're gonna have a target on your back, aar. are you sure you want that?"

aaron faust

☉