[attr="class","gavin"]


"Not in the slightest." That River had implied Gavin was old goes unchecked; the little shit looked like he was barely out of high-school, and his attitude suggested he was even younger. "But whoever sent us into the middle of fucking nowhere must be, otherwise they could have dealt with this shit themselves. I'm a scientist, not a ghost hunter."

As he kicks open the door and gestures to the interior, River stares at him instead of entering. Gavin raises his brows.

"I think you're the one afraid of ghosts."

He laughs, if only because he thinks it will get under the kid's skin, and strides confidently into the dusty building. His throat itches upon inhaling, and his hacking cough suggests that the dust isn't his only problem. He really needs to give up the smokes.

Gavin taps his flashlight against the wall when it doesn't turn on immediately, the light flaring at last to partially illuminate the hollow shell of a future Rocket hideout.

"And I think they're afraid of us, because I'm not seeing any."

He releases his Crobat, just in case.

---

notes:
hope this mission is fine!

[attr="class","gavin"]


Gavin almost punches him.

Reflexively, his hand curls into a fist. Nostrils flare and hazel eyes flash with contempt. Who did River think he was?

He keeps his cool.

Gavin likes things to be under control. Anger is an ugly emotion that gets under the skin, changes you, and there is no place for it in his world. He breathes, and uncurls his fingers.

"I think it's more likely they sent me to babysit." He smirks at River, not buying his tough guy act. "Probably didn't trust you not to turn and run as soon as the ghosts showed up."

He laughs under his breath as River shoves past him, making no protest as the flashlight is snatched from his grip.

"Scout," he instructs Crobat, softly, and the four-winged bat rises to the rafters on silent wings.

Gavin's own footsteps echo and kick up plumes of dust as he strides further into the building. It looks to have been a storehouse for some kind of machinery; he dodges the blade of a saw by the dim light the flashlight provides.

And then the saw starts moving.

It whirs to life with the horrible screech of old, rusting metal, and Gavin stumbles back from it in surprise.

"Light!" he demands of River, suddenly very serious. "I think we've got something."

---

notes:
ahh river really gets to him, i love it
mission

[attr="class","missionBG"]

[attr="class","gavin"]


Gavin smirks back at River, delighting in how he's able to get under the boy's skin. It's petty and immature, but he can't help himself.

"I thought I was an old man," he points out. "You're all kids to me. You certainly whinge like one."

As much as he would have loved to make fun of River for being so on edge at the sound of the saw, Gavin finds himself wholly distracted by the spinning of the rusted blade. If that thing came loose...

What comes loose, however, is the poltergeist inhabiting it.

Gavin shines the flashlight onto the offending machinery, and an unfamiliar Pokemon emerges from it with an aggravated wail.

"The fuck is that?"

It looks — and Gavin has to blink to be assured that he's not seeing things — like a malevolent painting. It certainly doesn't act like any piece of artwork he's ever known: he's forced to leap out of the way when it takes a brutal swing at the two trainers.

Swearing, Gavin lets out a sharp whistle.

Crobat descends from the rafters, astonishing the malicious Pokemon by attacking from behind. The attack is swiftly disabled by their foe, and Crobat's attempts to follow up with a bite are protected.

---

notes:
shit > fan
mission

[attr="class","gavin"]


Both Rockets find themselves on the ground; Gavin's breathing heavy from a rush of adrenaline and he lets out a hacking cough as dust gets into his lungs. Years of smoking haven't made his breathing any easier, and his eyes water as he tries to quell the fit.

His Crobat, meanwhile, does its best.

It snaps at the painting, sharp fangs biting down the ghostly work of 'art'. The bat is knocked free by the shadowy claws of the Runerigus, and Gavin's recovered enough to scramble into a sitting position.

He spots River nearby, crawling across the floor.

"Don't you have Pokemon for this?!

Why the hell would they send him if he wasn't prepared for a fight? Not waiting for an answer to the question, Gavin fumbles a pokeball and releases his Sandslash. The creature of ice-and-metal lets out a grating snarl, clearly displeased at being woken, but scrapes its claws together in a swords dance.

Ice begins to form between its paws.

---

notes:
shit > fan
mission

[attr="class","gavin"]


River is pale as the ghosts they're meant to be fighting. So much for not being scared — in the midst of panic and chaos, even Gavin doesn't waste breath on being snide. It's adrenaline that makes his tone knife-sharp.

"No, you don't, but you must've brought something!"

Who showed up to a ghost-hunting mission unprepared to fight ghosts?

Something turned out to be... well, Gavin's not entirely sure what the slimy creature that slorches across the floor toward his Sandslash is, but it appears to be on their side and right now, that's all that matters.

A spray of foul gunk spatters across the painting. Unbeknownst to Gavin, who had no idea what this thing was, it had adopted Crobat's inner focus upon coming into contact with it. Now, it possessed no ability at all.

That seems to piss it off: it wails and disables the Pyukumuku's move, but the damage has already been done. Gavin's Pokemon take advantage of the opening provided by its rage: Crobat attacks with its wings and Sandslash, with a helping hand from the weird creature between its spines, lunges for the painting, icicle spines crashing into the phantom and causing great tears along its composition.

It disappears, and there's nothing but dust and heavy breaths.

---

notes:
my beloved 'slash died in the rocket lab and i'm sad abt it
mission

[attr="class","gavin"]


River is a mess in comparison to Gavin, who's already stood and brushed himself off, straightened his jacket, and is now outwardly quite calm in the aftermath of the scuffle.

Hazel eyes glare daggers at the boy.

"It would have taken far less time if you'd come prepared." The words are like ice, as cold as the air that mists around the Sandslash. He might have been a fair bit more understanding if River hadn't tried to shift the blame onto him. "You'd probably be dead without my help. That thing was out for blood."

He turns away and scans the rest of the warehouse with the dim beam from the flashlight, squinting at dark corners with a scowl dominating his expression.

That had better have been the only one.

Though he feigned competence and a cool exterior, there had been a real thrill of fear upon hearing the saw roar to life mere inches from him. He was not a man afraid of many things, but death could be counted among those rare few.

---

notes:
gav is not having it
mission