he hates that he flinches when the darkrai approaches. it feels, he thinks, like lethargy given form. for a brief moment, dominic feels too tired to even draw breath, but the sensation is gone just as quickly, settling in somewhere in the space between his ribs and his shadow. he exhales sharply and straightens to make eye contact with walsh.

dominic knew, of course. he was underboss under both blackwells and under cadis too; the rank and all it entails is engraved into his bones.

he watches the rest of the procession with an expression of faint, steely satisfaction, responding with an incline of the head and the flash of a grin when he feels hands clap against his back and shoulders, congratulations uttered in murmurs. his gratitude is expressed only by the razor-sharp quirk of his lips - the words for thanks don’t find themselves among his vocabulary and he trusts both darkrai and walsh recognise it.

as the questions arise, dominic’s gaze flickers from those gathered and back to their boss. when he shakes his head, it’s a minute gesture. dominic had taken pains to warn the man back in kanto; the hoenn branch is filled to the brim with clowns, only, unfortunately, they were primarily the human kind and not the ultra beast kind.

among the murmurs surrounding him, dominic catches cadis’s name being uttered, and calls out a question to alleviate their concerns rather than to put his own curiosity to rest.

"will cadis remain aboard?" he spares a brief glance behind him and the grunts milling around. "some of the newer recruits have grown fond of him, perhaps his presence is reassuring to them."

which is to be read as: they are soft. across the crowd, dominic catches circe crowley’s gaze and offers the briefest of nods.

:heyguys:

A shift in power....

It brought questions to Igor's mind and yet, at the same time it didn't bother him in the least. Whomever was the Boss of Team Rocket mattered little to an Associate, Igor's job was to take orders and get the job done, that was it, at least in his mind. Nigh programmed, literally though he didn't know, the ebony clad figure would stand in the background, blending in with the shadows as to not bother the others with his...strange appearance.

Arms crossed high along his chest with his cloak draped around his form Igor would remain unmoving as he refused to interrupt. Even after introductions, speeches, and even questions being flung around the room Igor would keep to himself. That was until the silence seemed to begin to stir, requiring a poke to keep the fire going.

The only question I have is....When's our next move?

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