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Rhys wasn't having the best week.
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He'd botched the delivery of pokemon for Naomi Sato's research projects, had been interrogated within an inch of his life regarding his relationship with the operative responsible for the bomb, as this was now his third run-in with the man for only a seemingly coincidental reason, and on top of it his side still ached, the wound bandaged and packed where tavish rose's combat knife had slid in like butter. He'd been disallowed healing, and it didn't take much overthinking to presume that it was punishment for losing the shipment.
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He couldn't call Zev Harcourt a friendly or sympathetic face, but he felt he could at least go to the man who seemed interested in his progress and usefulness within the organization. Rhys was good at a lot of things, but his repeated encounters with Tavish constantly reminded him that he had virtually no skill when it came to combat.
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Now, he wanted to know how to kill a man.
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Zev was nowhere to be found, though, which wasn't always unusual. Finding so many dead ends, though, was beginning to wear on Rhys. Then, suddenly, this guy came up and said that he did in fact have a bead on the Beast, and Rhys was mildly surprised to discover that it was in Dewford, of all places.
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"What's Zev doing in a fucking backwater like this?" Rhys scowled, though he adjusted the flashlight to shine on the seam between window and wall. Definitely not what he saw himself doing in the middle of the night, but he supposed Rocket meant new and exciting experiences every day.

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Rhys flinched, nearly dropping the light as the window, divested of its locking power, flew up suddenly. Smothering a curse, he looked around, but at this time of night no neighbors appeared to have been alerted by their extracurricular activities. He wouldn't have thought at all to look for Zev in a place like this, but the man was a Rocket Beast along with Arceus knew what else, and Rhys surmised that the motives of such creatures were beyond the ken of peons like him.
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He followed Klaus into the apartment carefully, casting the flashlight around from side to side and illuminating a cozy living area, a handful of photographs, and the biggest couch he'd ever seen. He froze at the sound of barking, and nodded as Klaus went to deal with that, then blinked in confusion, mouthing in an echo of his next order: Check the bedroom?
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Shaking his head, he headed down the short hallway in the opposite direction, pulling open the first door he came across to reveal a small bathroom. Huh. If this were Zev's place, he would have expected some kind of miniature torture chamber instead of the haphazardly welcoming decor that dotted the space - motifs of waves, a few photos of pokemon, but no blood or Gengar.
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He continued to the next door - jackpot. No Zev in the bed - thankfully - but no owner, either. The huge, cushy duvet was wadded into a tight ball, as though the last time someone exited the bed they hadn't bothered to make it, but he wasn't forensic enough to figure out how long it had been. There were a few - what did they call those? - free weights set on a low rack in the corner of the room, a small television up on the wall, but otherwise the space was relatively bare.
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Heading back toward the source of the barking, Rhys wondered whether Klaus had had any better luck. As his flashlight ghosted over the photos in the living room, he paused, leaning in and squinting at a photo of an absolutely jacked shirtless guy with a broad smile and a messy head of dark hair.
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He was more and more baffled by what purpose Zev would have in a place like this, but...damn.
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Poking his head into the kitchen, he found Klaus and an elderly Snubbull. The canine whipped his head around to gaze piercingly at Rhys, then offered a series of shrill barks that had Rhys backpedaling into the living room once more, heart pounding. "What did you find?" he hissed. "I got nothing, you sure he's here?"

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Back in the darkened living room once more, Rhys reflected on the current circumstances of his conversation with Klaus. Here he was in a random apartment in the middle of nowhere during the dead of night, hissing questions around a corner at a man he'd never met before because some old-man-dog was barking his head off at him the minute he appeared.
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But why wasn't he barking at Klaus?
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Any further questions were halted as the man in question entered the living room proper, and Rhys could only raise an eyebrow as Klaus hands him a handful of smooth, polished black stones. He stared at them, glimmering flatly in the palm of his hand, before glancing back up, deadpan.
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"What are you saying, he's one of those new age weirdos? Like you carry the right rocks and you never get sick again, that bullshit?"
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Scoffing, he tossed the stones back at Klaus and ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. "What was he doing here, anyway? I don't even know what I'm looking for."
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He turned his flashlight back down the hallway, slowly making his way in that direction. "I saw a computer in the bedroom, I think. Maybe we can check the history to see what's going on."

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"Yeah, your mother said hi," Rhys grunted irritably as he pressed past Klaus into the bedroom. The desk in question wasn't a complicated affair, four wire legs and an armless chair that looked like it had seen more stable days.
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He settled into the chair which creaked concerningly but, after a panic-inducing instant, retained its structural integrity. Thumbing at the power button on the tower, he waited for the PC to boot up, turning his head to glance at Klaus. "Maybe he booked a trip. Hell, maybe he's on a mission, that's over our heads anyway."
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The screen lit up, and Rhys was immediately assaulted by the wallpaper: a too-zoomed image of the man pictured in the living room - clothed, this time - and the elderly Snubbull from the kitchen pressed up to his face, cheek-to-cheek. The man wore a blinding grin, and the dog simply looked unimpressed, tongue stuck out from his scowling face in protest.
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"Was he supposed to kidnap this guy, you think?" Rhys opened the browser and went right to the history, scrolling through it and squinting.
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"MewTube, MewTube - is this a fucking baking video? - an article about the SS Tidal getting stranded, looks like an order for...protein powder?" Rhys scoffed. "This isn't gonna get us anywhere."
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He thumped the mouse against the desk in frustration and must have clicked something, for the next video to fill the screen was clearly personal in nature, featuring a slim, slight, dark-haired man in what Rhys could only charitably call 'salacious positioning'. Rhys's eyebrows flew up to his hairline as he let out a low whistle. "Impressive," he commented, watching for a few seconds before he tapped at the keyboard to close the window entirely.
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He couldn't withhold a snicker, shooting a wry look over his shoulder at the other man. "Hey, if we don't find Zev here, at least you're apparently this guy's type. Might help you not be such a fucking asshole." Click, click, and he was into the file system, but virtually nothing was stored on the local machine.
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Rhys let out a frustrated sigh, spinning around in the chair and crossing his arms. "This is a dead end. What intel did you get on Zev being here anyway?"

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Lighthouse radio?
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Rhys thought about looking around. He thought about cracking the closet door open, or perhaps actually looking under the bed to see if he was being recorded. This had to be a prank show. He swore he could feel his eye twitch as he stared the other man down levelly. "I know I did not get dragged out to Dewford to perform some light breaking and entering and watch porn on some other guy's computer because you got a hunch that the scariest guy we both know in Rocket was sighted over lighthouse radio."
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He stood out of the chair abruptly, stalking out of the room and not even turning back when the furniture finally gave in and tipped over with a plastic clatter. This set off a fresh round of shrill barking from the kitchen, and Rhys flipped the little dog off through three walls as he stomped to the open window.
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"I'll get back on my own," he snarled, clambering through the window with a lack of grace that didn't do much to support his irritation. "You've got my info, though, so by all means feel free to let me know how your next hunches go. I hear magic eight balls and fortune cookies are good, but that might be a level too complex for you."
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He began descending the fire escape, heedless of the crack of thunder and the sudden downpour of rain that accompanied it. He'd look for Zev himself. A cafe in Kalos would probably be closer to the mark than this podunk apartment.

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