a small pile of cigarette ash was accumulating at dominic's feet. he flicks yet another one to the ground to extinguish it with his heel, but he's courteous enough to turn away from samuel when he exhales smoke.

"a couple, it's different every time though," he said, stifling a yawn.

"in kanto we'd, y'know," dominic punctuated his speech with a shrug. "put up roadblocks, ambush the truck, toss out the drivers, rough 'em up a little."

he spoke of the violence in a lazy, laconic tone, as he scanned the road for the vehicle. his gaze lingered on a few members of the r&d and they looked away. the distaste was mutual - he kept glaring through narrowed eyes for a long while.

"what about you? you're a hoenn guy, aren't ya? was probably nice and quiet before we came in."

Samuel Boothe

it is probably for the best that samuel does the talking. dominic evaluates the man for a few seconds. actually - it is definitely for the best. dominic isn't delusional, he knows that his demeanour and wording of even basic requests can come off as a threat or order more of then than not.

"i'll make sure they're quick about it." the longer they spend on this, the more chances there is for someone to fuck something up, causing the entire operation to unravel.

dominic gives samuel a nod as he breaks away to essentially usher the small group of disguised science-engineer types to the back of the vehicle like a shepherd with a group of mareep.

he doesn't exactly understand the minutiae of the equipment they are dealing with, so when he swings the doors of the truck open, dominic mainly stands back to let the others work, alert and watching. as the grunts swap out equipment with boxes (laden with rocks so as to mimic the weight), dominic cranes his neck to watch the scientists pry the boxes open, shining lights and murmuring to one another.

dominic takes a step forward and clears his throat when he thinks they're taking too long, just to spur a little more action out of them. after all, there is more than one truck coming through this evening, and they'd have to stash these boxes and containers before the next one arrives.

looking back, it seems samuel is doing a good job of stalling, and his little group finishes speedily. dominic steps around the side of the truck and into samuel's line of sight. forgoing obvious gestures that would otherwise draw attention to him, dominic makes eye contact with his colleague and inclines his head slightly.

one truck down.

Samuel Boothe

Dominic rejoins Samuel, carrying a heavy-looking crate in his arms. He dumps it in the back of one of their trucks unceremoniously and ignores the exclamation from one of their engineers. It’ll be fine, steel is sturdy.

At Samuel’s question he spins around, eyes widening for a moment. Dominic gives a bark of laughter and leaps into the truck in a fluid motion, busying himself with stacking the boxes for a few seconds before responding.

"I was underboss for a number of years below Silas," he says eventually, gaze flickering back up to Samuel, studying his features closely in the gloom to try to gauge his reaction.

"And then we got rid of him." He shrugs as if it’s nothing even worth noting, just another mundane power-shift within Rocket.

"You looking to get promoted? Just ask, I hear that’s all it takes at this point," Dominic says, shooting Samuel a toothy grin. Headlights bobbing in the distance catch his attention and he curses as he slips from the back of the truck and slams the doors shut.

"Next one, then?"

Samuel Boothe

samuel’s comments about the make-up of rocket’s member-base elicit another peal of laughter. not only are new recruits of a questionable caliber, but the organisation had bled any ideological meaning to him because they’re a loose association at best. and money itself has lost its appeal - dominic has more cash than he ever thought possible and the only change in his lifestyle has been that he buys a different brand of cigarettes now.

"smart choice. money isn’t even good," he comments with a grin as he passes by to return to the place where he was positioned previously. dominic gestures to a handful of the grunts and engineers and they rush to follow him, like shadows merging together into a whole.

it’s practiced now; they’ll be more efficient with removal this time, and hopefully samuel won’t have to entertain the driver for too long.

Samuel Boothe

"dropping underboss was the best professional decision i've ever made," dominic says quietly over his shoulder as he turns to leave and join the others at the back of the next truck.

"empty fucking title."

his mouth twists to a sneer and he doesn’t even try to hide it. if that isn’t emblematic of the organisation at large, then he doesn’t know what is. dominic grapples with the thought as he stacks the crates from the back of the next truck.

maybe he’s older now (he can feel the strain in his shoulders and down his spine), or maybe it’s some other invisible, intangible shift, but when he looks around him he sees a farce. as dominic helps a teenage grunt hoist the next container up, he thinks about the kids that bought their way into leadership.

this is just so fucking sad.

Samuel Boothe