"Hey now," Caleb called after the woman as she abruptly turned and began walking away. "Let me treat you to a bowl of chowder! It's the best in Hoenn. Pretty much the only reason to visit the Lilycove Fish Market, given the dangers of being accosted by pesky scavengers." The corner of his mouth quirked up in a lopsided grin as he surveyed her rather pathetic half-eaten sandwich. "After all, that Wingull nearly snatched your current lunch right out of your hand. Something fresh might be more, well, appetizing?"

He was at her side in an instant, and easily matched her walking pace. Again, he was impressed with how smoothly she glided across the pavement despite her entirely artificial left leg. Prosthetic technology was getting more and more advanced it seemed; she must come from wealth for her family to have been able to afford such fine, custom work.She dresses nicely and does not seem particularly at ease in the Fish Market. Upper class indeed.

Don't Feed the Gulls![break]@nikita

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"Sharpe. Caleb Sharpe." Caleb introduced himself, grin widening. She was well-dressed, her clothing finely made and her style refined. The narrow black pencil skirt and sleeveless white blouse were appropriate for the heat of summer but still gave off a classic, timeless look. A businesswoman of some kind, no doubt, Caleb guessed. Perhaps on her way to work.

It was then that he noticed the odd way the bright sunlight seemed to be reflecting off of her left shoulder; upon closer inspection, he realized that her pale skin gave way to a metallic material at the shoulder joint, and in fact, her entire left arm and hand were a sleek robotic prosthetic rather than flesh and blood. Her left leg below the skirt is made of the same material, he immediately recognized, the observation skills he had gained over a decade of working in investigative services (for good or for ill) taking over. It was not common to see folks with such major prosthetics, let alone such modernized, advanced ones. He had almost missed them completely simply because they were so unobtrusively designed combined with how gracefully the woman seemed to move despite their presence. She has had these for most of her life, he mused intuitively.

Because he had also worked as a spy for much of his adult life, he also knew how to hide his general surprise and curiosity. He kept his expression open and kindly - casual - ignoring what others likely stared openly at, gaze quickly moving back to her face.

"And you are?" He asked back politely.

Don't Feed the Gulls![break]@nikita

[break]

It was always convenient when one of Caleb’s missions took him through the Lilycove Fish Market, as there was always something particularly delicious he could buy there for lunch. The boisterous voices of the hawkers coming to bargain and the pungent smell of dead fish were not necessarily the most pleasant qualities a place could have, but they were familiar, and the chowder was especially good - better than Slateport’s, he’d determined.

But chowder would have to wait on this particular afternoon; as soon as Caleb entered the market, he heard the distressed voice of a woman crying out nearby. Not one to ignore such things, he quickly followed the irritated tone to its owner: a slender, silver-haired woman with a strikingly beautiful face, though her brow was currently furrowed and her mouth turned down in an angry scowl. A Wingfull was harassing her, it seemed, up to the usual business of trying to steal food right out of peoples’ hands. Another unfortunate side-effect of a seaside fish market. The scene would have been amusing, really, if the woman hadn’t seemed so put off.

Before the woman could react to his presence by her side, Caleb moved in-between her and the diving Wingull. He deftly reached out with a hand and snatched the flying Pokémon right out of the air. The Pokémon cried out in alarm as Caleb grinned triumphantly.

”Gotcha, you little pest,” he growled. “Now get out of here before I have to get one of my Pokémon involved.” His command seemed to have some effect on the Wingull, for when he released the desperately flapping creature, it zoomed off into the sky without making another attempt at the woman’s sandwich. Soon, it was nowhere to be seen.

”All those martial arts lessons have really paid off,” He chuckled. Then he turned his full attention to the woman once more. ”Are you allright?” He asked in a kindly tone, though his blue eyes sparkled with a lingering playfulness.

Don't Feed the Gulls![break]@nikita

[break]

Time seemed to stand still as Caleb watched with intrigue as, for the first time since they’d begun speaking to one another, Aurelie’s general demeanor towards him had changed from polite indifference - a conversation between strangers - to something akin to recognition. It was in the slight widening of her visible eye, the way her brow furrowed nearly imperceptibly, a flash of shock, and then, strangest of all, the upturning of her mouth into an amused smile. A knowing smile. A smile that seemed to suggest an inside joke that Caleb was clearly the subject of, and yet, frustratingly outside of its meaning.

Whatever it was that she had just realized about him, however, it was something she seemed disinterested in sharing.

She’s lying by omission after all. But not about her business.

Attempting to hide from the uncomfortable scrutiny he now seemed to be under, Caleb shifted his body away from Aurelie, turning to look at the corridor that led to the bladesmith’s workshop. As she spoke, explaining her reasoning for turning down a weapons commission, Caleb attempted to untangle his mind from the mystery of why Aurelie might know him and focus once more on their conversation. Her tone was calm and her perspective logical: not wanting to be liable for injuries and crimes was a perfectly reasonable thing for a craftswoman such as herself to weigh when deciding what to create out of iron and steel and other such potentially dangerous materials. When she brought up Pokémon, however, Caleb’s chest tightened with a sudden disquiet.

”Perhaps Pokémon are stronger than knives and swords,” he murmured softly as she concluded her circuitous speech. ”But I myself favored blades once, precisely because I did not always enjoy forcing my Pokémon to act against others in violent ways.” He left his statement deliberately vague, but when he finally turned back to her again, he made no effort to mask the remnants of the grief he’d felt when he’d fled Kanto several years ago.

A weighty silence hung between them, then, until finally, Caleb exhaled softly; he hadn’t realized he’d been holding his breath. ”In any case,” he continued. ”If one did not want a specific Pokémon tied to a crime for practical reasons - perhaps burn marks could be used to identify the culprit, if a suspect was known to keep a fire Pokémon - one might prefer to use a knife or a sword to commit a crime. I have seen such injuries - such deaths - in the field, Miss Lefevre. Someone is making weapons, even if it’s not you. Anything you might be able to tell me about that would be most appreciated.”

Putting on a Front[break]Aurelie Lefevre

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Having successfully executed a LANTURN 360 as he'd intended, Caleb expertly maneuvered the Mantine through the next big wave in a sharp turn, feeling the thrill of adrenaline as he heard the crowd cheering from the beach. This isn't so different from riding Lyra after all, He thought excitedly. The Mantine was faster and more agile than Lyra, but staying balanced atop its slick back did not seem to pose much of an issue for Caleb. Now that he seemed to have the hang of things, it was time to try out one of the more advanced tricks: a STARMIE 720.

wSsU5de0

MANTINE SURFING [E][break]

+ 500 PTS from Lanturn 360

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My, she is impressive, Caleb noted as Aurelie explained the difference between a common blacksmith and her preferred label of bladesmith. It was clear that this woman carried a great deal of pride in her craft, and had been doing this sort of work for many years - perhaps most of her life. As she spoke, Caleb tried to get a sense of whether or not she was lying to him: perhaps not outright, but by omission. When she listed those that made up her recent customer base, he looked for any signs of deception - a twitching at the corner of the mouth or a suddenly averted gaze. Nothing. Everything about her manner of speech was calm and collected, as natural as if she were speaking to a friend and not a private investigator. Perhaps she'll be able to call me a friend, after this, Caleb mused. If she's clean, of course.

"You've certainly answered many of them," He replied, watching as her smile faded ever-so-slightly. She doesn't want to be further questioned, he guessed. That could mean she was hiding something after all, or it could mean she was as frustrated as any business owner might be with an unexpected visit at the start of an already busy day.

Time for a different tactic. 

"But say I wanted to commission something...different," Caleb continued, standing upright again, and moving away from the display cases and closer to the woman before him. He lowered his tone somewhat, and glanced at the door, as if checking to make sure nobody else was about to enter. He held out his hands, gesturing slightly as he theorized, taking on a slightly conspiratorial air. "Say I was...someone who needed to protect myself. Or, someone in a dangerous line of work. Say I was looking for a not just any old utility blade - " He met Aurelie's visible eye, scrutinizing every detail of her fine-featured face as he gazed at her. He wondered vaguely what was beneath the eyepatch she wore, and how she had received the injury.

" - But a weapon." Caleb finished quietly. His smile turned wolfish, with just a hint of a predatory glint to his cold blue-grey eyes. "Would you make a weapon for me, Bladesmith?"

Putting on a Front[break]Aurelie Lefevre

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Caleb was, in fact, a very experienced rider of aquatic Pokémon, having grown up since he was 10 years old with his Lapras, Lyra. Therefore, when he stepped deftly onto the Mantine's back, he decided he wasn't going to settle for a boring opening move. He was going to go for a LANTURN 360 to get things started, and hopefully impress the crowd of excited onlookers with his immediate prowess at Pokémon surfing. After that, who knows, perhaps a more advanced trick would be in order.

"Let's go!" He commanded the Mantine, and the Pokémon took off into the sea. Caleb steadied himself, and felt the familiar rush of enjoyment as the salty sea breeze whipped his hair back. He loved being out on open water, the sound of roaring waves all around him.

Time to make their move!

xAUObguW

Taxes? Caleb found himself slightly thrown off by this assumption. "Oh, I'm not a tax auditor," he chuckled, amused. "Though it seems you could use an accountant." He followed her gaze over to the stacks of multi-colored spreadsheets, remembering the nightmare of being assigned desk work when he'd first started at his precinct - typing up incident reports all day - and how draining it had been. Doing one's own taxes sounded about as equally hellish.

"I'm far more interested in the work you do here - and who it's typically for - rather than the specifics of your financials. You're the blacksmith responsible for all of this?" He waved a hand idly at the display cases housing various cutlery and utility tool samples. He sauntered over to one of the cases as he finished speaking, Comet trailing dutifully after him, leaning over slightly to peer more closely at a particularly impressive Chef's knife. The blade was a well-forged combination of polished stainless and carbon steel, ending in a beautiful hand-carved full tang wooden hilt.

He turned back to Aurelie, unable to suppress his sincere admiration. "Do you take commissions?" He asked, partly because it was his job to get to the bottom of whether or not this was a Rocket front, and partly because he could really use a new utility knife.

Putting on a Front[break]Aurelie Lefevre

[break]

It was mid-morning when Caleb arrived at the Iron Lady Forge, the cawing of hungry Wingull a familiar cacophony as they hunted Wishiwashi in the nearby bay. At his side, Comet stalked quietly, the clever Lucario a helpful companion when it came to investigating potential Rocket leads (he seemed to have an eye for the untrustworthy).

The building was utilitarian in nature rather than overly flashy; if this were a Rocket front of some kind, it was doing its best to remain somewhat nondescript, which could be a sign that it held secrets within. But sometimes it's the flashier places that are the most corrupt, the gaudiness meant as a distraction to hide what's really going on inside, Caleb mused, thinking of the Rocket casinos he'd left behind in Kanto. This building was anything but gaudy.

As Caleb entered the shop, he immediately noticed how well-organized everything appeared to be: he could see a few well-built display cases featuring various cutlery, pieces paired together in matching sets or comparable price points. A different case held more practical tools such as garden shears, industrial scissors, and hand-axes. And still another case displayed no metal at all: only wooden handles, the carvings beautiful and intricate. Farther back, he could see an entryway into a back chamber. This, he assumed, must be the actual forge, where one might find the tools of a blacksmith (and apparently also a woodworker) spread out on a large worktable, an anvil, and of course, fire. I'll have to ask for the full tour, he noted, seeing that the door to the workshop was currently closed.

In a corner of the shop, there was a counter with a register, and behind that counter stood a woman. She was solidly built, obviously carrying the strength of a longtime laborer and craftswoman, and yet, there was an undeniable grace to her movements. She had short-cropped bright red hair and, Caleb immediately noticed, an eyepatch over her right eye. Overall, she made for quite the striking figure.

"Aurelie Lefevre?" Caleb asked in a friendly tone, confident that this was the Iron Lady herself. "My name is Caleb Sharpe, private League investigator and officer of the law. I've come to ask you a few questions, but it shouldn't take long. I'm quite curious about this shop of yours." He flashed her a roguish grin.

Putting on a Front[break]Aurelie Lefevre

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