'ah, fuck,' the internal groan is suppressed by circe's lips forcing themselves into a lighthearted smile. she adjusts her shades, pulling them over her eyes once more, and suddenly appreciative of them if only because they shielded her sharp stare. it was annoying enough running into coworkers outside of work. running into your boss though? 'it should be fucking illegal,' her thoughts are filled with frustration. here she was, trying to escape work for just a bit longer, and then he pops up. her mouth fills with a vile taste. 

"do that and i'll have to come live with you." her voice is riddled with a sickly sweetness that borderlines toxic. not outright venomous, but not exactly kind. however, in the face of authority, she reels in her distaste in favor of her usual coyness. "don't you know i'm on vacation, sinclair?" she raised a hand, greedily reaching for one of the drinks he possess, uncaring of who they were originally for. 

dominic sinclair

She couldn't resist giving a soft 'tsk'. Her need for alcohol in the presence of her 'superior' rose by the moment, and so her grip on the warm colored beverage only tightened. "mmh, you don't let up, do you?" though a chuckle purred in her throat, her hidden stare was toxic, as though wishing he dropped dead right before her. she didn't hate him, no - that was too much effort. she just didn't enjoy being on the 'wrong end of the stick'. she didn't enjoy the lack of control she had in the face of her boss. 

she tried to hide her further distaste of him joining her company by fixating her glacial stare onto a couple barbecuing nearby. the smell of searing meat was irrepressible. 

she tsked in realized frustration, drowning her rearing complex with a sip of her newly claimed drink. "did you miss me that much, sinclair?" she addresses him coyly. she'd take whatever shots she could. "i'll come back...soon enough, i suppose." whether it'd be tomorrow or the last day of the month, she didn't specify. "unless," she paused melodramatically, "you specifically ask me to come back now, of course."

dominic sinclair

"hm? was that a rare occurrence of genuine kindness and good will in your life?" the quip feigns sympathy. it pries slightly, perhaps curious about the man himself, but it never fully becomes anything more than a hostile bark. she herself soon lets out a slight scoff, but doesn't question it further.

"how's the...'family' been?" her question is, surprisingly, sincere. she avoids stating the obvious of their place of work. prying ears were everywhere, and one could never be too cautious. last time she'd been 'at work', it was an annoying clusterfuck of incompetent people, 'kind' villains, and people who couldn't make up their damn mind of whether they wanted in or out. had it changed any? she could only hope so.

dominic sinclair

There's a fine perk of a brow, but Circe otherwise holds her tongue. Half of the people within rocket, herself included, wouldn't know what genuine kindness was if it shot them in the fucking head. But, Circe merely sips at her beverage, side eyeing the man with a certain judgmental look that words couldn't describe. She didn't need to say a thing.

"From Kanto?" That catches her interest, as seen by how she leans forward. "He'll have a field day in Hoenn then." Sarcasm dripped from her words, however the woman abruptly pauses. Eyebrows knit together in an oddly serious manner, a hand moving to set the nearly gone drink onto the sand below. She leaned forward, slender digits interlacing with one another as she regarded Dominic with a rare, solemn look.

"Sinclair," she addresses him once more. "Is he hot?"

dominic sinclair

she's somewhat surprised that the man seemed to genuinely ponder her question, despite his otherwise flabbergasted expression. she doesn't retract her question though in her usual jesting manner - she's serious. his answer isn't a desired one. she was expecting details, a picture - even some shitty drawing in the sand was better than the nonchalant answer he gave. at the very least, he didn't say no. 

"sure." circe answered by downing the rest of sunrise tequila, mimicking the answer he gave her. "if he's not though, i'm quitting." she offered a shrug of her own, as though trying to antagonize him further. 

"can't you give me anymore details?" her question is almost a complaint. "come on, sinclair. share the details." she leaned closer to him in an almost provocative manner.

Circe's relentless in her pursuit of more knowledge. Even the man's strained expression doesn't deter her from her target, as her eyes merely narrow expectantly, tongue posed and ready. Surprisingly though, Dominic humors her further, shuffling to show her his phone. Circe leaned forward, bicolored eyes narrowing further to gaze at the picture.

"...." The facial expression she bears is unreadable. But, her lips seem to drawl into a tight, firm line. "...The hell is this?" The brash words seem so rough compared to her usually eloquent tone, and his displeasure abruptly becomes clear. "...Your face takes up more than half the frame. Is that smudge back there supposed to be him? What sort of photography skills are these? Literally, half of rocket could do better - and that's not something you should be proud of." She's relentlessness in her assault of the photo, unable to probably hide the distaste that drips from her sharpened tongue like venom.

"Dominic," She refers to him by first name, a rarity reserved for when she's either serious or irritated, "I see you enough as is." Her complaint is comparable to that at a whine at this point. To say she's enjoying this though wouldn't be far from the truth though. At some point, it'd become less about trying to see who the 'mysterious hunk' was, and more about punishing the man for bothering her on her vacation. "Also, that angle also isn't your best one, by the way." She threw one last, halfhearted comment with a pointed sniff, just to add insult to injury.

"Better ones?" Her questions seems more like a demand. 

dominic sinclair