Giselle's eyes, sharp and calculating, never leave Howard's face as she settles into the chair across from him, the clink of her diamond bracelet a soft whisper against the leather. She crosses her legs smoothly, the sleek line of her black dress a stark contrast to the chaos outside. Regirock's appearance is merely a backdrop, a stage setting for the real battle – the one happening in this room.

"It's a pleasure, Admin Fox," she begins, her voice like silk. A slight smile plays at the corners of her lips, never quite reaching those cool blue eyes. "I appreciate a man who values directness."

She leans forward slightly, clasping her hands together. "I'll be frank. The recent... disturbances have opened up certain opportunities. While others see destruction, I see potential. And I believe Team Rocket could be the key to unlocking that potential."

She settled back, her gaze piercing into Howard, as if studying him for any flaws or impurities, like a jeweler might to a ring. "I'm prepared to make a significant investment, is what I mean. But I want a part in the action."

howard slayte

Something about her gaze annoyed him. Maybe it was the way she looked at him like an object. Maybe it was the way that she reminded him of Elisabeth Fiorelli, the underboss he had crushed under Regirock's uncaring fist. When he closed his eyes, he still felt the sound of her bones crunch.

That sound rang out in his mind as he tapped his fingers against the desk. He vastly preferred the sound of clinking coin to the fragility of bodies. Metal and wealth was eternal, wherein the human life was fleeting. The latter was vastly preferable, though.

Without human beings, there was no such thing as 'wealth'.

"You see potential, I see a terraformed city that requires millions to rebuild. I see people without homes and people looting. There are utilities to rebuild, defenses to construct, and systems to reinstate." Howard leaned back in his chair, inspecting her bracelet as he did so. "The future is in rebuilding the lives of others."

He spread his hands graciously.

"By action, do you mean a part in our war? Or are you simply offering a pulse for the economy I intend to build?"

---

Giselle Moreau

The coolness in her eyes doesn’t waver, even as the corners of her lips twitch upwards into something resembling a smirk. She finds his perspective is narrow, limited. Like so many men before him, blinded by the immediate, the superficial. She had expected nothing less.

"War? Please." Her voice drips with disdain. "War is for those who lack imagination. I’m talking about something far more... sustainable."

Giselle leans back in her chair and adjusts the designer glasses on her face with a shift of her expression, wrist moving in such away to allow the dismal light filtering through the window to catch on her diamond bracelet. A man is only as good as what he can offer her, and Admin Fox is no different. A rung in the ladder. A stepping stone for unimaginable influence and power. Everything Giselle has ever wanted.

"I believe Rocket is the future," she continues, slowly. "The war will end. The cities you have destroyed will be rebuilt. When all of this is complete, you have a new world to create in your vision. I want a seat at that table."

In a brief moment of silence, there is a confession. The current method of government has made it difficult for Giselle to establish her business in Hoenn in necessary ways. Backing a few terrorists financially to carve a path of least resistance through the region seems to her the fitting option of recourse.

Her lips quirk upwards at the corners. "And, in turn, yes, I will fund your war effort, your rebuilding efforts, and the endless minutiae."

howard slayte

She thought Team Rocket would win this war.

Ha.

How admirable.

"A seat at the table is acceptable. You'll fit in well with our string of Kantonian investors and those who wish for a change n the status quo." He took a deep drag of his cigarette, eye flatly regarding the woman across from him as he did so. "Know that Rocket answers to nobody but our bosses. Monroe and Walsh dictate our plans, and our God General acts them out."

The last sentence grated on his tongue as he uttered it. He loathed the God General. Not only was he inhuman, but he had also failed to take Mossdeep. It would've been a far more succulent prize than this strip of land. However, this place had brought him Regirock. He could not complain.

Much.

"But the people in this city will thank you." His eye flickered with amusement. "I certainly will. But we've been talking about tables and chairs and all this..."

He gestured vaguely. "...nonsense. What do you want?"

---

Giselle Moreau

"What do I want?" she echoes, her voice taking on a sharp edge. It's a question she's been asked many times, by many people – usually men who thought they could control her, shape her desires into something more... palatable. The idea is almost laughable.

Her cool blue eyes never leave his, not even for a second. "I want what everyone wants, Admin Fox. Power. The ability to shape my own destiny, and the freedom to accomplish that in whichever way I want. The very same thing the war has deprived Hoenn's people of."

She speaks of the civilian's plight knowing full well that she does not care for them. Should they wish to not die like dogs, they must start fighting like wolves.

Giselle shifts in her seat, crossing her arms over her chest as if in challenge. "Rocket needs money. I need influence. It seems to me a mutually beneficial arrangement."

She raises an eyebrow, studying his face for any flicker of hesitation. In Giselle’s experience, there is no room for weakness in negotiations. No room for error. Every word, every move, is calculated, deliberate, a strategy she had been perfecting her whole life. She wants to hold her finger on his pulse and press, just to see how long it takes for him to begin squirming. It is what has been done to her countless times before. It is what must be done to the uninitiated and to the unknown, so Giselle may better get a grasp on their intricacies and quirks.

"What do you want, Admin Fox?"

howard slayte

"What do I want?" His eye twitched. A deliberate motion or a personal tick? "That's remarkably simple, Ms. Moreau."

What sort of admin didn't do basic research, after all? Once someone entered Petalburg, their name, presence, and history was known. Team Rocket's intelligence stretched from Kalos to Unova, after all. With Kanto's Team Rocket here as well, intelligence flew across the world with the snap of a finger.

She assumed him human and fallible. That was correct. He was both of those things. He was not smarter than Team Rocket's academics. He was far weaker than the Rocket Beasts. He wielded less power than their avatars. He simply... was. It was in that moment that he figured out why this woman annoyed him. Her diamond bracelet reminded him of when he was heir to a jewelry store.

That was a lifetime ago. The perks that his family offered him had disappeared like morning dew when he had slipped into Rocket.

"What I want..."

She wanted power. Team Rocket could provide that. It could even provide her a future. Yet it would never offer her meaning beyond monetary gain. Perhaps that was what she wanted. At the window, a massive face of stone stared through at Giselle, seven dots inspecting her face with otherworldly knowledge.

"...is the world."

---

Giselle Moreau

A small, cold smile spreads across Giselle’s face at his answer. The world. It’s a fitting response, she thinks. Grandiose. Ambitious. Entirely within her expectations for someone like him, a high-ranking admin of Team Rocket. She’d expected nothing less, though she could appreciate the audacity. Still, she wonders at what cost. She's seen enough men throw themselves at a crown only to end up broken and bleeding in the dirt. That could be Howard Slayte's fate if he isn't careful.

"The world," she repeats, voice dripping with an almost mocking amusement. She glances over her shoulder, her sharp gaze meeting the seven red dots staring back at her through the window. It doesn’t faze her. Men have been trying to intimidate her for years with far less.

She turns back to Howard, uncrossing her arms and letting them rest in her lap, a gesture of ease and confidence. She finds his answer amusing. Almost stupidly romantic. Like a child with his eyes bigger than his stomach. Giselle knows the world is far too vast a place for any one person to hold onto for long. Such is the lesson her mother learned that frosty day she hung herself before Giselle's eyes. Life spilling from her, wide open, wishing she could call back all the little failures which brought her to that point, so Giselle could live a life more than mediocre.

Giselle Moreau has no intent of following in her mother's footsteps.

"Well, Admin Fox," she continues. "The world is nothing without the power to shape it. You could have every city, every region, under your thumb, and it would still be meaningless unless you had the influence to bend it to your will."

Giselle gently throws a strand of long, sleek black hair over her shoulder.

"That kind of power kills the weak. You best be prepared to kill every ounce of softness inside of you, if that is your dream. Are you prepared for that, Admin Fox?"

Giselle's eyes flash. She has been without softness for many years now. She idly wonders if the man before her has the willpower to fully disconnect himself from that which he loves.

howard slayte

"Perhaps. It's best you don't find out, though. Consider yourself lucky. The further you delve into Team Rocket, the more you realize that there are those capable of actually acting on their ambitions. When dealing with gods, it's best to simply stay out of the way and avoid getting squashed."

It was his way of operating. He desired a version of the world that did not exist. It was one that this woman would likely despise, and thus he didn't utter it. His was an impossibility, anyways. As he was, it was unreachable.

He was weak. The weakest of the Rocket Admins, and the weakest member of Team Rocket. Yet that weakness came with humility, regardless of his desire for what he called 'the world'.

"Dreams are meant to end, Ms. Moreau. I've simply chosen to never wake up." He had killed more people in taking Petalburg than most people would in a thousand lifetimes. "I offer this warning once."

He stood from his chair and walked to the window to stare at Regirock. He murmured something in an ancient language, and its pattern flickered.

"This is not a human organization anymore. It's something else. Are you really willing to defy the world for the sake of mortal gain? You can still walk away." He turned his head towards her. "Once you're in, you can't get out. Is this what you want?"

---

Giselle Moreau

Giselle raises an eyebrow at his back as he walks to the window, watching him with an almost clinical detachment. When he turns to face her again, she’s still wearing that cold, sharp smile, as if his words have done nothing but amuse her.

"Admin Fox," she says, her voice taking on a almost condescending tone. "I’ve been defying the world since the day I was born. This is nothing new to me."

She stands, smoothing the front of her dress, and walks over to stand beside him at the window, her high heels clicking against the floor. She glances at Regirock, her eyes studying the pattern, the strange, otherworldly light in its eyes. She’s never seen anything like it, but she refuses to let that intimidate her.

"You say that this isn't a human organization anymore," she says, turning to face him fully. "And yet, here we are. Two humans, discussing business like any other."

Giselle fixes him with a cool, appraising look, her blue eyes sharp and calculating.

"If Team Rocket has grown beyond humanity, then it's done so with human help. There is always a place for us, even among gods." Giselle raises her hand, inspecting her nails idly. "Especially among gods."

She lowers her hand, meeting his gaze once more. "I have no intention of walking away, Admin Fox. I'm exactly where I want to be." The last part is spoken with a direct firmness.

Mortal gain, as Admin Fox put it, is Giselle's gospel. Without it, she will perish in this world. Without any attachments, leaving is far from impossible. She's done it before. Often. It's why she is feared in Kalos' elitist circles. If all goes south, she's willing to leave this world and find a new one. It's only too bad Howard does not understand that.

"And if the gods have a problem with me," Giselle spoke again, "They know where to find me."

howard slayte

"They will, Ms. Moreau." He spoke softly, regarding the red lines of Dynergy that crossed his hands like circuitry. "They will, for their problems are numerous than the stars in the sky."

He had given his warning. She had chosen not to heed it. Arrogance had buried stronger women than Giselle, but he wasn't going to drag her back from the brink. There were too many other people to save. There were too many other things to do. What was one woman's greed when compared to the weight of the world?

She could drown in ambition, just like everyone else in Team Rocket.

"The organization consists of gods," he amended, "but what are gods with no humans to worship? Let them keep us around? Do not disturb them and let them play their game of sovereignty. I have seen the ambition that certain people in Team Rocket hold."

He met her gaze and smiled slightly.

"I wish you the best in playing their games. I will take your money and use it to the best of my abilities. Maybe I'll buy myself a suit finally." A deep sigh. "Or perhaps a nice pair of socks."

He did miss having nice clothes. He'd take Giselle's wealth and she could take her seat at the table. If she wasn't eaten alive, then she could come and collect the debt he owed.

---

Giselle Moreau

"Oh, I don't play games, Admin Fox," Giselle replies, lips curving into a smirk. "I win them."

She lets her gaze linger on him for a moment longer before turning away, back to the window, back to Regirock with its ancient, all-knowing eyes. The gods, as Howard calls them, could play their little power games all they liked. Giselle would be there at the end, picking through the pieces, building her empire on the ashes of their rule.

She runs a hand along the edge of her diamond necklace, feeling the cool, hard press of the jewels against her skin. She had been bought and sold before, her worth measured in glittering stones and cold, hard cash. But she had risen above that, forged her own path in blood and betrayal and sheer, ruthless determination. Team Rocket, with all its gods and monsters and mortal pawns, will be just another step on that path.

Giselle's eyes turn towards Howard, and she looks him up and down. "Enjoy your suit," she says, voice dripping with an almost lazy sort of disdain. "And your socks. It would be beneficial to you to look less..."

The first word that comes to mind is homeless chic.

"Less poor."

She turns away from the window, from Regirock, from Howard and his soft, sad smile, and makes her way towards the door, her heels clicking against the floor like the ticking of a bomb. She pauses, just for a moment, her hand on the door handle, and glances back over her shoulder at him.

"I'll be seeing you around," she says, her voice low and almost taunting. "Enjoy your little games."

And with that, she was gone, the door shutting behind her with a soft, final click.

howard slayte

"I will." He watched her leave, before audibly sighing and running an artificial hand through his hair. "Arceus above..."

He took a seat at his desk, watching as Regirock turned away to lumber through Petalburg. She had called them games. He had called them games. Yet for him, it felt more like he did all the work while everyone else played games of power. They were like children, dancing around chairs to see which one would get the honor of inviting Hoenn's next disaster.

One that he would have to temper, as was his purpose.

"...what a bitch." He looked at all the files on his desk. There were schematics for rebuilt Petalburg and ledgers and financials and supply charts from Kanto. All in all, a lot of work. "...I'm not poor."

He sniffed. Yes he was. He controlled more wealth than much of Hoenn's elite. He was in charge of smuggling networks from Orre to Unova, and the amount of money that he oversaw ensured that Team Rocket was always loaded.

Yet Howard Slayte himself was poor. Especially since had bought a few statues recently.

He shuffled through the files on his desk, before eventually coming to one from Beast Inoue regarding Lunala. He chuckled and tossed it onto his desk, bemused.

"He's bold. I'll give him that." That would be for later. "I'll ask him about it later."

---

Giselle Moreau