She smiles wide as he stands up in a rage, suddenly gleeful.

She's got him.

... But when he falters, is given time to think, he recollects himself. She silently curses on the inside, but outside it's all smiles. Nothing but smiles.

"Just giving 'em a reason to live life to the fullest," she responds, flippant. Either she doesn't understand the severity of the words he is trying to impart on her, or she does not care.

"Remember death, right? Memento mori, mono no aware. Nothing's permanent, but nobody changes. Not truly. The person you are today's the only person you'll ever be. They'll die, and the you of tomorrow will be a different person. It's the same, in the end, as all those pretty corpses."

She doesn't seem to care about his insinuation she'll end up dead. She seems oddly at peace with that, a life lived to the fullest in her eyes. A life balanced on the edge of a blade...

"People like me are just a reminder. You should live as your true self, before it's too late."

BATTLE OF SOOTOPOLIS SIGN-UP

THE FIRST WAVE PRELUDE

OOC NAME: Nagato[break]
CHARACTER: Aoki Hana [break]
FACTION: Rocket[break]
SCENARIO: B[break]
PREFERRED PARTNERS, INCLUDING OPPONENTS IF PVP?: Melody Miro [break]
POKEMON PARTY (MAX 6) Doublade, Melmetal, Scizor, Skarmory, Empoleon, Excadrill[break]
NOTES/COMMENTS: Hana coming to terms with her strength, the capacity of the league's strongest trainers, and the desire to get stronger - everything else is real flexible as far as I'm concerned!

She watches, resting her chin on a hand. She's got him talking now, so she waits, and listens. Her eyes are piercing, probing him for weaknesses, taking in everything he says and searching for an opening, just like when they'd fought before...

She sees none of that familiar intensity while he talks.

"You know, I'm not sure I believe that sheriff."

She says, finally.

"Somethin' tells me you're not content with just that. Protecting your little corner, I mean. Dewford, and the people... you only cared about protecting them, doing your part, you'd have rejected that appointment from the commissioner, yeah?"

The way he'd fought before was unsteady. Everything was off, like she was fighting two people at once. She could see it in his eyes, that disparity between thought and action. The person he wanted to be, and the person he thought he ought to be. However fierce he looked at her with that steel gaze cutting through her, however dangerous his every action seemed to convey before he followed it through, there was always that disconnect.

He was holding back, denying himself.

"Live fast, die young, and leave a beautiful corpse. What else could a Warrior want than that?"

She gives him the widest smile. Watching, and waiting. But where there was only a passive nonchalance before, stubborn refusal to act like a prisoner, now the fire in her eyes had returned. A challenge, sans swords.

She laughs, content with that answer.

"Oh, I can handle it, don't you worry."

A confident smile plays across her lips.

A sword doesn't need to know the reasons it cuts. All it needs is to be sharp, to slice through whatever its wielder asks of it. It's good to finally work for someone who understands that.

"Long as it ain't important, that's good enough for me. I'll take care of the sheriff, you can count on me."

Hand moves to her hip again, where her swords would sit had they not been confiscated by security. She would use them to pledge herself to him, given the chance.

Hana grins.

She keeps grinning. No matter what he says or does, while she's prisoner, she doesn't seem willing to give him the satisfaction of a moment where she isn't thoroughly enjoying this.

"Meet the new boss, same as the old boss," she qups, when Navy brings up the current commissioner.

There's a defiant look in her eyes. She doesn't seem willing to take his word for it.

"Neither of 'em would have to deal with opposition like Rocket if the people weren't askin' for change. People want a good life. See change as the only option. Fightin' that's gonna make them ignore all the bones you throw 'em. By the time the dog eyes the bloody steak on the table, thinks its his, a bone or two ain't gonna be enough to sate him anymore."

She studies the sheriff for a moment, then she leans in.

"Cop that hates cops, huh? Funny. Almost like an assassin who hates killers. You think you're gonna make a difference? You think you're gonna change anyone's minds, sheriff? They're beyond that, I fear.

She finds it almost funny, huffing in amusement. The one lawman in Hoenn who still has scruples? Is that how he sees himself? It's laughable. Naive at best.

" It's us versus them, no matter what we do. No matter how much you want change for the better, you ain't gettin' it from this lot. Sayin' so makes you a terrorist. No talkin' sense into 'em, may as well be the scum they already see you as."

Eyes flick to the door before the knock arrives. She watches carefully, catching a glimpse of the man through the crack and nothing more. There's a twinkle in her eye, but she waits for the sheriff to finish conducting his business, watching carefully.

As he starts talking about Slateport, she sits up excitedly, on the edge of her seat. There's an exhilaration in her smile, though it never quite reaches her piercing eyes.

"You know Mitsuhide?"

She catches herself quickly.

"Well... knew." A slight sigh. "Still, wouldn't expect you of all people to end up a customer. Would've thought a lawman like you more like the guys he was payin' under the table."

But not one of the oblivious ones who was none the wiser.

She's seen the way he fights. This man's not stupid, even if he is a cop.

"I'm no hick. Not a city girl neither. I'm just me, go where I please. City, country, middle of the jungle. Long as there's good food, cute guys, and a fight to be had... "

She stops for a moment, flashing those white fangs with a laugh. Then she switches course.

"Spent time in Slateport for a while when I was still nearly a girl, til the money for odd jobs dried up. Left when the commissioner started crackin' down on the slums to make his constituency feel safer. Never liked the heat. Heard it only got worse when the people rose up, tried takin' over. Was long gone by then, though.

"... Y'know, it's funny. Never seen a city more dangerous now, with all that hard work he put in. You think Monroe's proud?"

There's a sour tone in her voice when she says his name.

All the while, she watches the sheriff carefully, studying his reactions. As if looking for something.

"So much for a spaghetti western, hm?"

She looks right at him, beaming. She's almost too proud of herself for that.

She sits up, leaning back against the wall as the man speaks. Whatever else she was searching for in the room, she ignores it, puts it to the back of her mind. Turns out, the important bit of info was on the cover of his magazine the whole time.

"Yeah, sure. You name it, I've probably ridden it."

Her smile grows wider.

"Y'know those modded imports? Stuff that's barely street legal. Stuff you and your friends would probably get all uppity about. Knew a guy in Slateport who was selling those parts out of a chop shop, provided you asked the right questions. Was on every cop in the lower district's shit list, evaded them the entire time.

"Turns out, you're a respected fixture of the community? Cops tend to look the other way. Don't even look twice when you're selling illegal shit right under their noses. Anyway. Guy would let me take his bikes for a spin, with a little 'coercion'. Probably taken a ride on more things than you could dream of at this point.

"Rice burners, they're nice. Yeah. But the stuff that nearly comes alive between your thighs when you squeeze the throttle, well..."

She pauses with a breathy sigh, as if remembering good old times. All the while, she looks straight at him. It's a stare that's almost too intense, like a cat, watching intently for something. But, whatever that might be...

She was used to this, or so it seemed. She hardly fussed at all when he brought her to the brig, sat her down, and shut the door. She just followed him with her eyes, wide grin on her face the entire time.

Watching, til he sat himself down at the desk and averted his eyes behind a magazine.

The weakest link blinks first. She seemed satisfied with that, lounging on the bench and watching the ceiling. Like a big cat, a tiger perhaps, or a lion. Having taken her kill, she could now relax.

"You into hot rods too, sheriff? Me, I was always more into bikes, but I know a lotta men who fancy themselves car guys. Most of 'em can't tell a V8 from a V10, but I'm sure you could show me the difference, hm?"

She asked the question lazily, making casual conversation as if she hadn't just taken several lives not an hour ago.

No answer.

She shrugged. Eyes wandered, from the magazines, to the bookshelves, the desks, taking in what she could of the cramped little room. It almost seemed like she was searching for something, studying it all intently, gleaning every detail. Her eyes fell back onto the law, the focal point of the room, once he finally addressed her.

"Hungry? You bet, I'm famished! Haven't eaten since this morning! What're we in the mood for, eh? Kantonian beef? Unovan? Well, it's your treat so I'll have whatever you're having. What's your fave? Wait, no, don't answer. Lemme guess... it's spaghetti, ain't it?"

She could hardly contain her shit-eating grin, watching him upside-down with her head leaning off the bench. If he'd removed her cuffs, she'd have made a little gesture, pretending to take off a cowboy hat. The sheriff sure was lucky he'd taken his precautions against that. Like all lawmen, he was stiff, uncompromising. Couldn't stand a lick of fun.

She could warm him up to the idea yet.

Trust is not so easily given, especially for one like her. But she has no choice.

She does commend him.

Despite the way his eyes of bitter steel cut through her, despite the way he treats her roughly, he does not act on any impulse, to kill or otherwise. He puts her in cuffs, and disarms her, but justice is not his alone to deliver to someone taken into custody. There will be plenty of time before her fate is decided.

That time will be useful, she thinks.

"Ohh, doing your best to act the proper lawman now, hm, hm? Where'd that fire in your eyes go? Extinguished already? Nah... not a chance. I don't believe that, Sheriff.!"

Sincere or not, she can't help but smile at the act, even through the pain of her wrists being wrenched behind her back.

This is not his heart. She's seen how he acts in the midst of battle already, enough to realize that. Denying himself the pleasure of succumbing to the heat of battle can't be easy, but it'll certainly make the moment he surrenders all the more sweet. Just a little more prodding, a few cuts in the right places and even the hardest armor falls away.

"So, now it's all about justice, huh? How much paperwork you gonna take on, not finishing a fight the old fashioned way?"

She tries hitting him where it hurts, tries wounding his pride. He's made of harder steel than that, she realizes quickly.

"Thought the League had given up on justice ages ago. Your colleagues seem to think so. We're at war, you know? My friends will come find me."

That's a lie, but it doesn't matter. That doesn't change his mind either.

He hoists her up easily in his arms, carrying her atop his Corviknight. Any more complaints she has are drowned out by the wind.

The shield moves predictably, revealing the man's face again, along with those eyes - eyes that cut into her like bitter steel. Her heart freezes for a moment, enthralled, giving him just enough time to raise his sword.

She silently curses, ducking back.

Her shoulders fall lower than her waist as the sword is thrust at her. She can hear the hum of the light glancing off of its edge. She can feel the heat. It cleaves the tree behind her in two with all its fury, and she laughs in disbelief.

"... Damn, that's good."

Real good.

She's lost the advantage due to a party trick.

There's nothing for her to do. She drops her blades in response. They hiss in anger at the mere suggestion they cease their hostilities, not having taken their fill of blood. Even so, they relent.

She will need to feed them her own later, to pay their price.

For now, all she can do is raise her hands in a mocking gesture of mercy, trusting the sheriff at his word - that he will not kill her.

"Alright, sheriff. You win."

She looks up at the blade, still humming as it hovers over her. Her legs give out and she falls back, planting her ass in the mud. The gilded Aegislash remains above her, her own personal sword of damocles.

"Now what, hm? Am I under arrest? Time for a strip search, maybe? Been watching your eyes, y'know. Hope for her sake you don't have a special someone back home."

She jokes. In a situation like this, it's all she can do.

It would be easy for him to kill her and be done with it. Though she's dropped her swords, her tongue remains sharp. He'll need something more than a sword to disarm her of that much. If this is it, then so be it - but she will not allow him to rob her of her spirit.

Her empoleon doesn't expect the fury of a beast. Doing its best to wrench the ape off him, he smashes a metal claw against him, but it's too late -- the explosive fury of the infernape covers him in flames, and his mist disappears in a fiery inferno, revealing the two fainted pokemon.

Hana takes notice only out of the corner of her eye. All her concentration remains on the man in front of her.

The shield is obvious. Even so, it's hard to deny its superiority. Two blades allow you to cut twice as much, but a shield is just as much a weapon. He could have attacked with it if he wanted, but he holds back. Her wild heart only throbs with fury at that realization.

"Yeah? And what if I am?"

He's called her bluff already, but it doesn't matter. He's trying to talk down an assassin. Words won't win him the day this time, but they do speak to the spirit of the man she's fighting. He won't surrender to the heat of battle like the pokemon he's trained.

She understands him more with every blow.

"Doesn't matter. I'm here to kill you, ain't I? Won't be a 'next time'..."

Her smile is fanged like a wolf as she snarls.

She tosses her second blade to the side while she presses down on his shield, keeping it occupied. As it leaves her grasp, rounding the angle of his defense, it takes flight and aims directly at his head. Its no guard ensures the efficacy of its aerial ace, just to be absolutely sure.

"... but I s'pose romance ain't dead after all, thinkin' there's a chance I'd let you live!"

The fae light burns her eyes, but she refuses to look away. To gaze into self-delusion and blink would only be a sign of surrender. She takes the blast head-on, her swords crying out in pain as they erect an iron defense.

"HYAH!!"

She lets all the pain of her wrists buckling out through her lungs, locking eyes with Navidson now he's close. Those steel-flecked eyes cut harder than the blade in her hands, and she growls.

"'Crazy'? What else does society call people like you 'n' me, who see the truth of the world?"

He's just accepted their terms. Chose to live among them, like a wolf among wooloo. Does he think that makes him better than her?

"I just don't accept it, that's all!"

She thrusts her swords forward, letting the weight of his sword slow him as she darts to the side and delivers two iron heads at his flank.

Beaten, bruised, and burnt, her empoleon sighs in exhaustion. A mist congeals on his breath, covering himself in a veil. A beat, and then the prideful penguin emerges from the fog to slice at the ape, returning as fast as it emerges with a flip turn. A tactic to win, at all costs - surrendering even his pride.

She rests her hand on her hip again. This time it rests there, deliberate, not some bad habit to reach for her blade. No, this time, it's out of sheer confidence.

"What, that new Elite Four guy?"

The League was only of passing interest to her until recently. Headlines, gossip. Things she'd overheard between beggars and bedchambers. Only now, with her induction into its opposition, had she taken an active interest in its members. Mostly, the only thing she'd been able to focus on was their looks. Everyone was so damned pretty, like they were cast straight from Kanto's cinemas.

Even so, she'd heard of Navy.

"Most fighters the League adds to its roster filter out within a year. He's new, brand new." And too pretty to be a real threat, she thinks to herself. "Give it time, eh?"

She smiles wide, a smile that belies the sentiment.

"What could you want with his head, anyway?"