the familiar objects remain in their usual places. her stoutland sleeps, too deep within its slumber to stir. the commissioner is effervescent as always— her voice a gentle hum, the incessant blond curl of hair tucked and untucked by the quick pluck of her finger.

dahlia does not give in to solemnities. rather, she sets the stage with ring lights meant to flatter.

"so you have! welcome back!" dahlia beckons alexander deeper: a grecian host who welcomes him to retrace a carpet of his past steps. "is your family alright?"

the living room remains unchanged— but perhaps, a change of scenery would be nicer.

ALEXANDER STONE

dahlia returns his smile. it catches the moonlight before that silver peels away like drowned cutlery under the indoor light. the man surprises her. she half-expected to see some grisly man with wisps of beard.

but the man is pleasantly handsome. like a popular personal trainer on social media rather than some shady criminal. briefly, her heart is at ease. perhaps, this venture is not as bad as it seems.

"oh?" dahlia tiptoes over the carpet with ballerina feet. "this place is... much nicer than i thought it would be."

the portrait looms ahead as her heels hit the hard floor.

"who's this?" she gestures to the picture. "past lover?"

@joe

"nothing special? they do have the watmel berry refresher now." she moves for the counter. "it comes with coconut milk."

sooner than later, dahlia returns with their drinks. the service is faster than expected— perhaps, a perk of their stations, or a case of nerves rushing amateur employees' hands.

as dahlia sets stormy's cup down with a healthy dose of sugar packets, she takes a sip from her own coffee.

"how is life as a member of the elite four treating you?" dahlia sets her cup down by her book. "there are a lot of expectations, after all."

Stormy Silph

the snorlax finally falls. or at least, it seems to give up in its usual nonchalant way. perhaps, too lazy to offer more fight—or worried it would lose its lunch from the repeated hammer arms to its stomach—the snorlax complies.

it begins to stomp away.

dahlia rests her cheek in her palm, steadying herself as the ground quakes in its wake. "if not something else, it'll be the sky itself." she frowns briefly, "the sky is always falling, bailey."

she grabs bailey's arm again as the last aftershock of a snorlax's stomping rumbles beneath them.

"thankfully, we have you! hopefully you have no plans of retiring anytime soon." her mr. rime returns to her, its icy cane like heels clacking on glass.

Bailey Cooper

"good answer." her lips sprout into a light grin, but her head seems heavy. "but this isn't a job interview, illeana. you already have the job!"

dahlia laughs, lithe fingers fluttering on her knee. this close, it one can see the nude paint on her nails beginning to chip.

"have you always wanted to be a scientist?" dahlia's stoutland rolls onto its side with a huff. "when i was young, i never expected to fill this seat. i wonder if that's the same for you?"

illeana reyes

"not everything needs to have a paper trail, bailey." dahlia fingernails continually come to her lips, begging to wedge themselves between her teeth. "i've just come to check in."

and yet, such visits are official matters too. penciled in one of many agendas. a checkbox ticked off in red. despite dahlia's apparent sincerity— can any movement escape the physics of an all-encompassing profession as this?

"that's all we need to talk about. oh, and this." dahlia's fingers slide away from her mouth. she pulls a file folder from underneath her jacket, and hands it to her. "a league endorsement. these are arbitrary really, but they're nice to have framed."

her mr. rime intensifies the PSYCHIC's power, blowing the snorlax back with an attack rather than a nurturer's push.

Bailey Cooper

"evergrande has!" dahlia crosses her legs, the beige slipper on her foot dangling loose. "but there isn't much to do here."

the wind blows. wiggling its snout, the stoutland squints as its cream fur streams backward.

"well, i'm glad to hear that, illeana." dahlia says. "because with this new position, i can't imagine how busy you are... or will become."

as the breeze fades, dahlia rests her elbow on the peak of her knee. her fingers curl in toward her palm as she leans forth to tighten her gaze.

"what do you hope to achieve as head scientist of hoenn?"

illeana reyes

"yes." from her extended hood, a shaft of shadow blocks the shape of her face. but the pillar of light from the doorframe cuts across her small smile. "are you?"

she whispers— but there is no need. presence alone is enough to expose her. her absences from her familiar places points toward suspicion— but perhaps, those are the fingered thoughts that begin to shroud around her.

"must be difficult. being a single father, essentially." dahlia laughs as she attempts to peek past the man's broad frame.

@joe

at the bell, dahlia rises from her seat. a book rests on the table, the tail of a ribbon marker tickling the edge of it with serpentine green. she smiles too.

"i have been, stormy!" dahlia embraces her softly and crowns her cheeks with kisses. "and you? thank you for taking time out of your day for me. i never had the chance to thank you personally."

her glance falls in half-lidded shapes. silver crescents of remembrance that fail to swing back to full.

"anyhoo. your favourite drink is...?"

Stormy Silph

"i appreciate it!" dahlia rests her the curve of her hand against the kalosian patio door while the other grasps the golden handle. "but my design sensibilities only go so far—so i just hire designers."

she opens the white door to the gardenscape. the thin curtains court the winds as she beckons for illeana in the sunlight.

"not always. i moved here once i became commissioner."

several patio chairs and tables rest on a raised deck that looks across a wide, vibrant lawn. her stoutland senses the expanded space, and comes rushing through the patio doors to bathe in the sun.

"but how about you? snowpoint city. coming to tropical place like hoenn might as well be a vacation." she settles on a webbed lawn chair.

illeana reyes

she arrives in the night, stripped of any vestige of work. a dark cloak cradles the jeweled rain before casting it to the cold pavement. quickly, she removes herself from the busier streets. the clutch purse she holds is removed too and is concealed underneath the damp slicker.

in a quiet alley, she reaches her clandestine destination. dahlia knocks on the door— and lowers her voice. "are we open for business?"

@joe

with a violent shiver, dahlia removes the virtual reality peripheral from her head. her sweaty blonde hair falls loose as she leans back with a sigh. she sets it on the desk counter.

"that was a doozy."

she lifts herself up from her seat, a hand bracing on the chair's arm. the screen of her monitor emits its sour, feathered light in the dark room she wades in.

"satisfied?" a voice resonates from a murky corner.

"yes," dahlia sighs again, "but switching off the pain sensitivity was something i was against. we discussed this."

the disembodied voice stops, but the silence is filled with a coarse, grisly guffaw.

"we need to set realistic parameters in order to receive the most accurate data." each syllable seems to send ripples in the charcoal sea of the room. "when avatars are pushed to their limits, what will they do?"

the commissioner frowns, but the slight dip of her chin suggests acceptance.

"i'll take the data, thank you. all the top players." she tucks a blonde curl behind her ear as she always does.

"game statistics, player information, chat logs—"

"as long as they don't feature cyber sex or weird roleplayers." dahlia grimaces. "i've witnessed enough of that with the gamemaster account. enough."

the voice stutters roughly with laughter.

"as you wish."

eventually, dahlia leaves to see Olivia Abbiati, for the a.q.u.a. initiative may have some merit after all. a few days later, blades & bulwarks closes due to the controversy.

@iris Cillian Quinn Rikiya Oshiro Kaida Adachi Alexei Ivanov Ruby Walker kyle lopez Stormy Silph noah faber Katherine Fairburne

"more common, it seems." dahlia pats her stoutland's back down before slapping its rear fondly so that it moseys away.

tucking a blond ring of hair behind her ear, the commissioner recomposes herself. her small smile, perhaps practiced or dealt delicate by her innate nature, freshens her face.

"nothing wrong with that, however."

dahlia leans in to close the door behind illeana before dismissing illeana's concerns with the fan of her hand.

"this is the most important engagement of the day, illeana. don't apologize, don't thank me... we're colleagues now."

dahlia begins to walk, guides the scientist with her steps rather than her words.

"we can go to the backyard so that your charizard can spread its wings."

illeana reyes