"maybe not better than here." his bluff is called, though not necessarily intentionally. the curiosity in silph's voice is apparent, and zeke can feel the man reaching for more information before he goes ahead and outright asks for an elaboration. the difference in their lives is more apparent now than it ever has been.

"i...want to matter. not in that bullshit 'everyone matters' way..." the words feel juvenile on his tongue but do not stop for fear of embarrassment. rather, it is the lighting up of the pachinko screen, the image of a marowak disrupting the train of thought. he's picky, but takes the pokemon for fear of completely wasting silph's money. as the pokeball dispenses, he heaves a sigh before pocketing it.

"being a cop here...it's bullshit. i used to do so much more. now i'm nothing again." another kid from the saffron slums doing nothing for his name.

another sigh escapes his lips, this one coming out heavier than the one before. "i guess that's just life."

FERNANDO SILPH nabbing the marowak

[attr="class","sbody"]

[attr="class","sbody"]

the air in the casino suddenly shifts, and zeke no longer feels like he is bullshitting. smoke billows from silph's nostrils, filling a tense silence. zeke's molars grit against once another, sensing that it is opportunity that now fills the air as the smoke dissipates and disappears into the gaudy casino rafters.

it's somehow going to be an opportunity for both of them, he feels but does not confirm, instead studying the piercing blue eyes of fernando eliard silph for a sliver of understanding. zeke is not valuable, and yet feels himself being eyed as a prize through those bright blue irises.

gods they are so...inhuman again.

'something more?'

zeke's head nods slowly, almost imperceptibly. he is too preoccupied with his reservations for any deal that is too be struck with silph to vocalize a response, though only for a moment. silph is a friend, he reminds himself. the list of things that silph has done for him runs through the back of his mind again -- all of this appearing just beneath the surface of his stony face.

"i think so."

FERNANDO SILPH

'you should go private.'

the private sector has never called for him -- with the wrong employer, zeke can see himself becoming a nameless, faceless henchman. a lesser body to put in front of another one; he briefly finds himself recalling Queen 's "creations," brutal reminders of the risk of troublesome associations.

but silph was there for that, he was the hand pulling the strings behind it all. without him, queen would surely still be a terror and a threat to society, and zeke was an important part of the process. zeke is lost, searching those eyes again for a trace of a hint beyond the apparent sincerity of the words being poured over him.

they betray nothing less than honesty. the business card dangles between silph's index and middle finger, its presence an implication of silph's desire for zeke to work for him. his own fingers take it gingerly, their hands just barely grazing.

the transaction becomes so casual that zeke wonders if silph really means it. surely the man with the money to run this casino dry has plenty of resourceful men beneath him, zeke's addition would not be needed. and yet, as silph powers down his pachinko, the sincerity suddenly sinks in.

was that why they came here?

zeke nods, offering a half smile to the blue-haired man and returning the pachinko screen to its home screen for the next player as his free hand slips the card into his pocket.

"i'll...thanks, fernando." the business end of the interaction does not keep zeke from using his first name as he begins to stand up. "there are some things to consider, but i'll give you a call. or a visit. for now though, i should get going."

back to his full height, his hand stretches out for a handshake to solidify everything that's happened today. "thanks again, for everything. i appreciate it all." his eyes gesture to the room around him, not forgetting the kindness silph offered him with a trip like this one.

zeke doesn't feel like he owes him one, unless maybe he should?

FERNANDO SILPH