[attr="class","char-words"]the war-torn streets of sootopolis buzzes around him with the irritation of hovering insects. he looks down at his hand, expressing only the faintest hints of curiosity, before it falls flatly against his side once more.
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the man to his left — lykaios athanasia, he remembers — takes cover immediately. a sound tactic considering the specter of death that looms above.
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river joins him with a dull thud as his back hits the same cover.
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"good to know," he says dryly. "but i don't think she's the target today." he could be wrong, of course, but the threat that loomed like a shadowy monarch seemed the priority.
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a muted flash of light signals a butterfree's entrance. a small gust is picked up, their clothes whipping lightly against the tailwind's pulling current.
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"i'll manipulate the battlefield."



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[attr="class","char-words"]the tape carries more than the promise of freedom, it brings with it a tendril of the illusion itself.
[break][break]
still attached, like the stain of smeared lipstick, river's 'mouth' snickers in mischievous glee. the officer, wide-eyed and reeling, turns to the once bound and gagged man in confusion only to be met by the human-sized illusion dissipating into smoke.
[break][break]
unable to fight his own instincts the other office moves closer to the trio, his shadow casting a silhouette on the warehouse behind Zev Harcourt as he steps into the headlights path. from behind him a loud, ear-piercing screech echoes as river himself is now standing just outside of the driver's door of the squad car. he holds the loudspeaker in one hand, and leans against the frame of the car's door on his other.
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"any of you lot allergic to pollen?"
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the preceding chuckle is dry, and probably on some level, creepy. he turns to zev and lifts the collar of his shirt to cover his mouth. either the man would get it, or he wouldn't.
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carried on an invisible breeze, a sleep powder descends.

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[attr="class","char-words"]"the very notion of peace seems almost heretical in an organization like this."
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river moves closer, squatting down to lean on his own knees as he reaches a hand out to coax the timid olive pokemon. his attention remains fixed on the smoliv, his expression soft, but neutral, as he responds.
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"it smells nice and it's quiet."
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simplicity suited him best.[break]

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[attr="class","char-words"]river regards the names listed next to his for a silent moments before pushing himself up the wall and stretching.
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the myriad of faces here presented a challenge he'd expected, but wrote off entirely.
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who the hell were Asriel Pryde and lykaios athanasia ?
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double-checking the breast of his shirt, to confirm they were in fact not wearing name tags, he stood in the middle of the echoing conversations looking quite of place.
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he could of course just wait for another member of the group to find him; in-truth, he was tempted to do just that. but, they were on a time-limit no doubt, so he goes for the clear and pragmatic solution.
[break][break]
"let's go with the transporter this time," he instructs the hiding zorua. the dark-type snickers in agreement as dark clouds pool over his head to form a rather appropriate message.
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[attr="class","char-words"]river catches only the tail-end of Calliope Alvara's discussion with.. a ghost? he knows better than to interrupt whatever tidal wave of emotions that were rolling off of her, instead, glancing down at the SPELL TAG coiled around his forefinger. the paper glows a soft violet and immediately he drops it as a searing heat lanced through his nerves.
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river can't hold back the frown that turns his lips downward as he stares at the crumpled item. he'd expected it to dissipate or something at worst, or consume that wayward spirit at best. instead, it's consumed in a purple-ish flame, burning brighter and brighter until river's forced to shield his eyes. it only lessens when a great windfall from above snuffs the flames out, scattering the bits of and pieces that remain to the four corners of this realm.
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he'd tempted, at first, to thank either Selena Desmarais or Calliope Alvara for turning the incessant light off, but whatever measure of gratitude he aims to extend dies on his lips. in-front of him, like a specter of death, lies MOLTRES.
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he puffs air out between frozen lips.
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"fuc—" is all he can get out before flames consume the spot where he's standing.

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[attr="class","char-words"]it's the inclusion of the word threat that keeps his metaphorical finger hesitantly floating over his choice.
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the question itself was vague and was worded more like the type of a question a lawyer would ask in a courtroom; all three options were, of course, correct. but there was only one answer that was more correct.
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he sighs, blowing air into his cheeks as he considers.
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in the end his mind goes back to a rather simple proverb. unbiddenly, so soft as to be a mumble, he says the phrase aloud.
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"better the devil you know..."
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forgetting he hadn't actually given an answer, he does so.
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"ah. C it is."

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[attr="class","char-words"]river wasn't a stranger to things going awry; in-truth, he found that that to be the end result more often than not. he counted himself lucky to be under the purview of the one of team rockets' beasts.
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the call to surrender brings a spike of concern through the grunt, and with it, questions. where was Zev Harcourt ? a stupid question, considering the faceless voices had been talking to someone. likely, this was his superior. he'd been ready to write this entire encounter off as nothing, when a thought struck him.
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was this a test?
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it wouldn't be the first time, or at least, if the rumors of other grunts were true. if it wasn't, and for some arceus-forsaken-reason the beast was struck down tonight, river would.. probably have some tricky questions to answer for.
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he sighs and tosses a glance at the containers of sleeping pokemon. while all of these creatures meant nothing in the face of his life, he knew team rocket would not let them go so easily.
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that just left the situation at hand in-front of him. as his mind works, river tumbles a gold coin over his fingers. as something comes to him, he smiles.
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---

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moments after the arrival of the officers, a figure steps out from the shadows of the warehouse. river approaches, hands tied in-front of him, mouth taped and expression fearful. from beneath that very tape his mouth moves, only for suppressed mumbling and screaming to meet the two figures in front.
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should zev be insightful enough, he'd just barely catch the small wiggling tail that sticks out from river's back.

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[attr="class","char-words"]river sat against the far wall, legs crossed and head held aloft by his fist. his gaze took in the room, free hand rolling a golden coin between his fingers as he absorbed the sea of faces before him.
[Break][break]
this was the so-called 'litter' of team rocket. they were pups to be assessed and graded on their worth; to be taught the consequences of biting the hand that fed you.

[Break][break]
river couldn't suppress the sigh that trickles up and past his lips. the group so far had been loud, boisterous, and in the case of some, arrogant. it was difficult to say if it was the type of arrogance that got people killed, or if it was rightfully claimed, but the line that separated the two was a thin line to hang ones life on.
[Break][break]
he found the solitude of this spot to be more suitable in the face of the unspoken threat this challenged presented.



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[attr="class","char-words"]river nods, conceding silently that the executive had a point.[break][break]"i wouldn't know. i don't workout."[break][break]he took a bite of the chicken sandwich. it was good, in a .. flavorless type of way; better than slop, but worse than something he'd get at a fast-food establishment. it matched his personality keenly. [Break][break]he looks to the man out of the corner of his eye, mouth still full as he speaks.[break][break]"this isn't some sort of impromptu performance review, is it?" he would definitely fail.

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[attr="class","char-words"]solitude was his old friend, but the invitation of peace this place naturally exuded tempered that driving desire. he remains, his posture betraying his true feeling of contentment.
[Break][break]
"i suppose it is." he nods along, twice confirming his agreement. his eyes flick lazily to the cat, then to the sad looking plant that seemed equally awed, and afraid, of the SUNNY DAY effect. [Break][break]"you're the first i've seen come to this place."

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[attr="class","char-notes"]

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[attr="class","char-words"]his comment forces something akin to a grin to form on river's face. in-reality, however, the smile looked force, and strained; like you'd held a gun to his head during picture day at school.
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it lasts as long as the feeling of amusement to which it was tied to did — not long at all.
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"i see." he wouldn't argue against having extra-hands on the mission, nor was his ego particularly bruised. it made sense, when he sat and thought about it. "so you're the muscle huh?"

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[attr="class","char-words"]indifference settles in river's eyes as Calliope Alvara death-marches into the mist, disappearing from slightly mere seconds into her venture. he turns his listless gaze onto Selena Desmarais at her ushering, and he blinks in the face of her commands.
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her instruction is unclear; nevertheless, he takes the SPELL TAG from her, holding the item between two fingers. a sense of unease accompanies it, and goosebumps riddle the flesh of that arm.
[break][break]
"worth a shot." he says sounding anything but optimistic. rolling it between the skin of his two fingers, he follows after Calliope Alvara, letting the cold mist envelop him.
[break][break]
whatever spirit was troubling the woman, would soon reveal itself under the tag's echoing call.

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[attr="class","char-words"]"indeed it is... ma'am?" the word feels alien to him, but he just shrugs away the oddity.
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the heat from SUNNY DAY eases the cold in his bones, and for that, he is grateful.
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"if i'm disturbing you..."
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he half turns his body in an indication to leave.

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