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He compliments the popcorn first… As he should! It had taken her a lot of effort to get it for them, after all! She had made it herself, and everybody knows that when making popcorn, getting the timing right for most of the kernels to pop but none to get burned is a bitch to do.
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”Thanks, I know.” She winks regardless, making it unclear if her response is in reference to his comment regarding the popcorn or her outfit. It could be both, really. They’re both things she takes pride in.
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How does she react when stepping in and seeing the huge TV that now forms part of Isaac’s décor?
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Well, as is only appropriate, she wolf whistles.
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”Damn, who did you bribe to get that in here?” The popcorn is unceremoniously placed on the table between the bean bag chairs, and without giving it much thought, she unceremoniously flops down on the one of warmer colours. There’s that funny feeling that brings vague memories of one too many days spent hanging out at Slateport U’s dormitories: that of polystyrene beans moving around and adjusting to her figure.
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”Oh, oh… Movies! Believe me, what we drink won’t matter much, we’re going to be playing a drinking game.”
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She smirks at him then, in her playfully wicked, Cheshire-like way.



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He has to be making fun of her, right?
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The thought crosses her mind. And yet, even though it does, Ceri is not nearly prideful enough to pretend as if it doesn’t bother her. She crosses her arms, she shakes her head, and she sighs, almost as if she were saying ”What am I going to do with you?”
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’Nothing’, is the obvious answer, but when she thinks of it, she chuckles lightly, the sound rising for a second in the midst of the strife caused by a pokémon that is supposed to represent gratitude.
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”Well… Fair! I’ll stop bothering you with questions, then.”
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For now, at least. Until her curiosity gets the better of her and she feels obligated to ask something else. It always seems to be that way with her.
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Plus, she’s now 20% sure that FERNANDO SILPH must be at least part robot.

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In the Venn diagram that shows the relation between the traits that are expected of members of a criminal organisation, Ceri Glynn is no more than a dot towards the farthest edge of a circle. Nothing intercepts. She’s not the norm, nor is she the stereotype. Except, of course, for one thing: she’s broke and she has a skillset that Rocket happens to consider worth investing in.
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When seeing Rory Faust, the same assumption is immediately made about her.
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There’s no one who “doesn’t belong” in Team Rocket, there’s just members that most wouldn’t expect. Or, well, that’s how Ceri happens to see it at least, but she’s also admittedly not involved in most things outside of the organisation's scientific ventures.
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”Did you? Huge adjustment, right?” She laughs, easygoing and cheerful as ever. What’’s strange to Rory is the norm for her, she has been part of the crime syndicate for too long for her to act nervous or ashamed about it when within the submarine’s walls. Not like she would anywhere else either, but at least she’d be more discrete… hopefully.
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”Uhmm… I was a lab assistant for a couple of years, but I recently became a full time researcher. Nice pay raise and all. Oh! Maybe you can help me with this thing. Come!”
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Just like that, she walks towards the back of the lab, expecting Rory to follow. She’s already accepted the situation.



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Instead of a response to his text message, there’s a knock at the door… or, more like a ’THUD!’, as if something had just unceremoniously smacked against it. In Ceri’s defence, her hands are full.
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”ISAAC! OPEN UP!”
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She has never had any apprehensions about speaking loudly, often caring little for being overheard. If anything, it’s almost as if she wants the whole world to hear her. And so, when opening the door, Isaac Merlo would find himself greeted by a smile that is as bright as it is unapologetic.
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”I brought popcorn!” Ceri declares proudly, and it’s perfectly manicured hands that hold up the huge bowl of freshly-made popcorn as if she were expecting clapping or a “hurrah!” or something. She’s dressed more casually than what she usually is, her simple attire perhaps reflecting on the reality of this meeting: on the fact that she had just been in her own room and only had to walk down a few corridors to make it here. Shorts, a shirt, and a denim jacket that is definitely way too large for her petite frame. Her brunette hair hangs over her shoulder in a single fishtail braid.
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”Let’s go go go. I don’t like cold popcorn.” She urges him, grinning.


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”Hey, no worries, we’ll have your samples ready in a jiffy! Try to tell your friend this is for its own good though… ’We come in peace’, yada yada. I’d rather not have it go full aggro on me, you know?… He? She? Huh… That’s an interesting thought.”
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She refrains from telling Killian Decker that the comment regarding Deoxys’ possible gender leads to thoughts on the reproductive processes of parasitic organisms, and that with the production of offspring being a main motivator for most creatures, there’s a possibility that the admin may have to consider. It’s realistic, but also like something out of a horror movie, so for the sake of not making him or Deoxys nervous and having the collection of samples go smoothly, Ceri has the sense to keep that thought to herself.
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Despite the theories occupying her mind and despite the casual way in which she speaks in her excitement, the task of collecting samples is performed with incredible calm. There’s a methodical nature to it, a practised precision that comes with having done this countless times. Usually, her samples come from pokémon and not people, but similar methods still apply.
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Blood is drawn, and after a pokémon is called out to numb a small area, a biopsy is performed, using a hollow needle to extract a small skin sample.
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”I’ll prepare these to have a look at them under the microscopes and then I’ll run a few other tests. Eh… Kinda expecting to see some crazy stuff going on after what you told me, so you might wanna take a seat.”
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Just in case.
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Once the lab has been cleared so they can make use of the electron microscope without anyone getting in the way, she continues her work.

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”D’aw! Thanks, TTX, you’re a real star!”
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It’s with a bright smile that Ceri praises her Toxtricity. She does not, however, reach to pet it. After all, as the species’ name so cleverly implies and as is made clear by their bright colours, Toxtricity secrete dangerous toxins, and that’s specially true when mega evolved like this. She can even see it: coating the pokémon’s skin and giving it a dewy sheen.
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For safety’s sake, she presses its Heal Ball against the Punk Pokémon’s nose, causing it to devolve back to its regular form before returning to the confines of the capsule. Once this Heal Ball is put away, she reaches for another – this time one that is empty.
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”Yup! A lot, actually. I guess the best way to put it is to say they end up blinded by their rage, but this still doesn’t tell me much about why they’re acting this way. I’ll take a specimen back for analysis.” Without hesitation or fear, she steps closer to a couple of the fallen Combee, making sure to find one that’s merely paralyzed before crouching down next to it. She presses the Heal Ball against its body, and it's only once the bee has been caught that she turns back to look at Isaac.
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It’s then that Ceri notices it.
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”Pffft.” The poor Combee is weak after TTX’s attack, but in its exhaustion, it still tries desperately to break free and fly away from them. Sadly for it, it would seem its stinger is nothing short of stuck in the back of Isaac’s jacket. Should she tell him? Warn him? Probably, yes. But, truth be told… not saying anything about it is much funnier to her.
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Without a word, Ceri stands, and after brushing non-existent dust off her jeans, she smiles at Isaac.
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”We can head back now!”



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She had been right: it’s fascinating. Ceri’s interest in entomology is one that exists mostly because of the capacity so many bug type pokémon have to produce toxins, but when watching this sort of complex swarming behaviours, that mind of hers that craves understanding is nothing short of pleased. Oh, sweet endorphin rush. Is there anything better than that?
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It’s not that she’s enjoying herself at the expense of Isaac’s wellbeing, but admittedly, for a moment there, the fact that he’s being attacked by a bunch of hyper aggressive pokémon is only in the back of her mind. She’s much more preoccupied with observing the Combee’s behaviours, and it’s only once she catches a glimpse of what’s occurring inside the dome that she remembers that ’yes, she’s supposed to put an end to this before it gets too dangerous’.
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Whoopsie!
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”Hmmm…” Ceri pauses the recording, putting the camera down, and when doing so, her hands rest on her hips. A heavy sigh leaves her then, turning to look down at the Ivysaur that stares back up at her. ”SLEEP POWDER just won’t do with these, will it, Gort?”
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Gort, in response, gives a saddened “Saur”, confirming that it, in fact, won’t.
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What to do, then?
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She could have her Crobat attack the Combee and try to disperse them, but realistically, the best thing she has to deal with this many aggressive pokémon is…
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”Well! Guess it’s TTX’s turn to come out and play!”
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TTX.
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Tetrodotoxin.
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The neurotoxin after which she had named the Toxtricity that comes out of a Heal Ball in an outburst of sparks. The Punk Pokémon smirks with confidence, and adorning one of the horns at the side of its head, there’s a mega stone worn as if both an earring and a tag.
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”Hang in there, Isaac! Okay! How about we hit them with a G-MAX STUN SHOCK?!” What she gets in response to the command is a roar, one that comes in the company of light emitted by both the mega stone and the keystone on her choker. Both stones resonate, and the gleam engulfs TTX while it evolves into its MEGA form.
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Electricity fills the air, and in an instant, it’s as if it’s all gathered and sent to strike the swarm of Combee, like if lighting had been cast down upon them by heavenly forces.
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That’s all it takes for the Tiny Bee Pokémon to begin to fall, and those that don’t fall flee before a second strike hits.



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