dominic halts his assault, and for just a moment it looks like he won't react to the speaker at all. he swings around to face remiel in fluid motion, the precise, sharp movement not at all correlating to the drunken lilt of his voice.

he studies the young man in front of him, matching the dark hair and particulars of his features to the compendium of faces in his memory and after a second, dominic's head lolls backwards and he gives a humourless bark of laughter. oh wonderful, how fortunate for him! to run into rocket's precocious little sponsor!

dominic lets the peal of insults die on his tongue, and he practically feels the acid run down the back of his throat. he's still smiling when he speaks.

"it's in my way," dominic says simply, as though speaking to a child. maybe there's a gentle threat there, maybe it's his default tone. dominic himself won't be able to tell. "so i have to remove it."

he reaches down a hand and absently gives the galarian meowth a few pats on the top of his head between the ears.

"what, are ya gonna help me out, buddy?"

Remiel Calcifet

dominic's easy smile falters. there was a time when the bitter pinpricks he felt in his chest and along his spine would have driven him to lash out - physically, violently. the expanse between him and calcifet is tangible; one had everything given to him, and the other clawed for the scraps.

for a half-second, dominic's gaze falls to the young man's throat before flickering back up to his face.

were they in kanto, he could strike him. were they in kanto, he could throw his weight around. in hoenn, he's shackled and playing by cadis's rules. at least until they bleed this boy dry.

dominic lets the thought console him for a moment longer, barely having time to snatch his hand away from the galarian meowth. the claws still make purchase and graze the skin, though the sting is dulled and superficial. honestly, he probably would have been disappointed if the pokemon had been an entirely placid pet.

dominic vacantly nods along to calcifet, surprising himself when the faint condescension didn't irritate him more. instead he watches the galarian meowth bound off with atypical agility and reaches for the pokeballs inside his jacket.

"i would be so grateful," dominic said, flat and sounding everything but that as he balanced three capsules in long fingers. he makes a conscious effort to sound less adversarial when he continues to speak.

"my pokemon aren't trained to, ah, behave in public places or be sure i would have used them," dominic offers by way of explanation, hoping that calcifet can at least follow the inferred meaning. "they're a bit aggressive."

he studies the capsules and pockets two, releasing a weavile from a starburst of light a moment later. "but this one can play nice."

the weavile drops into a defensive stance for a moment, teeth bared in a sneer, claws at the ready and eyes searching for a target until her trainer's voice indicates that there's no need for violence. the pokemon visibly relaxes, though her torn ears twitch suspiciously in caclifet's direction.

Remiel Calcifet

Dominic narrows his eyes but a ghost of a half-smile makes itself known. At least the man apparently shares his thought process with respect to Pokemon training, although that’s probably the only place where their views align.

He watches the Galarian Meowth’s display with a latent interest, cocking his head sideways. At Calcifet’s words he takes a few half-hearted (and perhaps less than steady) steps backwards.

"What, are you going to just spray water on it from a hose?" Dominic drawls, quirking a brow. That would be… some sort of answer, he supposes. He would prefer the direct approach - that is, beating the Snorlax into submission. Even his drink-addled brain can comprehend that drawing attention himself by viciously attacking a Pokemon in a populated area is a bad idea, so he may as well let this play out.

"Show me what you’ve got, Calcifet," Dominic says with a sigh, dropping the name intentionally to see how his counterpart reacts.

Remiel Calcifet

any droplets of water that threaten to hit dominic are promptly frozen in by an ICY WIND courtesy of the weavile. the flecks of ice scatter across the concrete like shards of shattered glass and dominic watches them for a long moment.

dominic only glances up when he sees the shadow of the immense snorlax tower over him. the meowth’s struggle is unfortunate - he’s fond of the species, his own perrserker having established itself in his party with more ease than expected - but idle amusement wins out over any intention to assist.

only when the poor meowth is displaced and the hose is torn out of the building does dominic actually move again. he glances over his shoulder to make eye contact with calcifet and shrugs.

"it’s damaging property, we have to- ah," he stops to ponder his choice of words. "apprehend it," dominic finally says, decisively, his gaze flickering up to see concerned faces peering down at them from the apartment’s windows. inexplicably, their concern and outright terror over a torn out hose irritated him more than would be otherwise rational. dominic finds himself glaring.

"call the cops or poke-control!" he yells at them and waits a second longer until he turns back to look at his weavile. it’s entirely unnecessary, but the pokemon needs to take out its aggression somewhere, and this is is a good opportunity to do it because there’s an excuse.

"go on, give it a few good smacks," he says to the weavile. the pokemon takes a moment to preparing, HONING CLAWS, and then lunges forward to slash at the snorlax with a flurry of METAL CLAWS. the snorlax staggers at the onslaught and belows, seeming to gag at the hose it began consuming.

only when the snorlax’s hide starts getting torn by vicious claws does dominic back away toward calcifet and return the weavile to its capsule.

"hey, nice thinking you actually woke it. sorry ‘bout the meowth," dominic says with a smirk, drawing closer. he drops his voice when he next speaks. "see you at headquarters. hope you don’t get seasick easy."

turning on his heel, dominic melds into the crowd.

Remiel Calcifet