Flames scorch the ice-made blades of the penguin, sending up a wall of steam. It falters from the heat, reeling back and cawing curses under its breath while it falls, following the infernape with its eyes. They narrow, anger growing more intense all the while. As it lands, it cleaves its blades into the earth, causing it to split in two and sending tremors all around with an earthquake.

"That's all their is to this life."

Her life, anyway. It was a life she'd chosen so long ago she couldn't turn back, not even if she tried. Not that she'd ever want to.

"Just what comes natural."

Her empoleon tears its blades from the earth, sending up spikes of earth in Navy's direction. They stab up at him, threatening to cleave him apart without his infernape's intervention. Hana just looks on, with a confident smile, watching to see what he'd do.

The empoleon groans under its breath, huffing in indignation. With a flourish, it kicks off the earth, surprisingly agile for its build and stature. Twirling, both blades on its flippers cut the air, sending the bird into a defiant tailspin with a drill peck. While not capable of flight, it certainly was not immobile.

"Nope!"

Hana puts her hands on her hips.

"None of them could keep up with me if they tried!"

And Arceus, did they try. It was a commendable effort, enough that she almost felt sorry for them. She had to admire the make of the one man who had pulled his own sword on her - had it been a piece from the Iron Lady Forge, she'd have been hard-pressed to break it in two. Unfortunately, it lay shattered in the dirt at her feet.

Waves are extinguished with a fist. The proud penguin pokemon looks down its beak at the ape, scorn in its eyes as the menace laughs. There is nothing but hatred in its eyes.

"Hey, now, Sheriff! Where are you manners?"

The woman's voice feigns offense, watching Navy in the tree with wide smile dancing across her lips.

"Usually a man asks a woman's name before he promises to take her home!"

The empoleon raises a flipper to the skies, bringing it downward with a heavy smash. Its pointed edge is wicked sharp, a metal claw that could cleave the pokemon in two like a hunk of clay if it was unprepared. Undoubtedly, it was, though the threat remained.

"By the way, it's Hana!"

She calls out, her voice filled with exuberance as she watches the battle unfold. Surrounded by carnage, in the midst of a battle, it seems strangely carefree.

Her swords hum, delighted. They've gotten their fill of blood, and more very well may be on the way. She slides them into their sheathes, clean as can be, already drunk all the blood spattered on their bodies. Only then are they calmed.

"Oh, Sheriff! Perfect timing!"

The woman looks up from the carnage with a smile. She's still coated in flecks of her victim's blood.

A necessary sacrifice, it could be said. The sheriff could've died back near the coast, and she'd have been on her way. Now these people are dead, because a lawman comes when the law is broken, and she wasn't finished with him yet.

She won't be, til he's six feet in the ground.

"And you're so eager, too! Ooh, that look you're giving me, it's getting my heart revved up! That's good!"

Her hands fall to her hips, a dangerous look in her eyes. It's something like a wild animal, a predator on the hunt. She'd felt nothing like this when slaying those men, cutting them down like cattle, but this man - he could give her a good fight. That was rare. It almost made her heart sink, imagining the pretty corpse he'd leave behind. And then what would she do?

"C'mon, then!"

She tosses out a pokeball, and a blinding flash obscures her empoleon's wave crash. It doesn't hesitate, headed straight toward the sheriff. Its movement is relentless, intent to run him straight to the ground.

Her excardrill stares down its foes. So do her swords. She can feel them hum in her hand, intent on drawing blood. She glowers, and shoves them back in their sheathes before their thirst can be sated.

"What, runnin' already!?"

The drake is huge, larger than she's seen in person. Her hand rests at her hip, and she decides against a pursuit. Her skarmory wouldn't fare well against dragon fire, being made of metal and all. Maybe it wouldn't melt, but she'd be roasted alive. At least, that's what that compendium had said.

She watches him disappear into the distance, and only once she's sure he's gone - that he hasn't circled around for a counter-attack - does she recall her excadrill.

"Damn, and I was just starting to have fun, too!"

She looks out at the dunes. Somewhere beyond them, there lies the rest of the island.

"... The mountains, huh, sheriff?"

Where there's trouble, the sheriff will arrive. At least, that's what they say...

The concern he shows for his would-be killer is commendable. She doesn't need his concern, though. Her hands are faster than his mouth, drawing two blades free of their sheathes at either hip. She presses them together in front of her, and a concentrated bead of qi parts the earth in front of her, earthquake extending on either side.

"Hell of a wild thing, huh!? Just kill it before it can finish!"

Her excadrill tears and grasps at earth, trying its best to keep its balance and close the distance between it and its target. Though the sand allows it to move faster, and hit stronger, the earth it usually digs through is torn to shreds by the paradox pokemon's mighty rampage.

It arrives, beaten and battered, bringing its claws down for one final, violent swipe on the pokemon, tearing through rocky armor and earth alike with a drill run. It's worse for wear, however, covered in its own blood by the time it can reach its target.

His words have a certain effect.

A drop in the pressure of the room, as if ushering in a storm. Her ears pop. She can see it in the eyes on the guards, especially the one who looks the most green. He's not yet used to words having this weight, nearly losing his balance.

She nods.

"Yep! That's what I intend to do! Heard you guys have a group of the strongest trainers. Elites that hunt, well... avatars. Somethin' called SPECTRA. Anyway, I want in. And I want you to sponsor me."

She pauses at the word avatar, eyeing him up and down.

There's no irony in her voice. A green recruit, no deeds to her name. All she has is her sword and a complete lack of scruples.

"I wanna be in that room. Whatever you want me to do, kill someone, steal somethin', it's all fair game. Tell me what you'd have me do before you'd sponsor me, and its good as done."

And with that, she smiles wide, awaiting a response.

"What, you know him?"

Her smile grows wider.

Lucky guess or not, he was gonna be dead in a minute anyway. Who was she, to deny him the name of the one who'd ordered the deed?

Her excadrill shifts subtly in the sand between trading volleys with the paradox. Their spinning clashes send out debris, sparks, and blood, in equal measure. But, now that it had lulled it into a false sense of complacency...

"Hey, now! Watch yourself! I'm still a lady, y'know? Don't appreciate the insinuation I kill for money!"

No. It's sport.

The excadrill spins in place again, but this time as the rival pokemon draws near, it flares its huge metal claws outward. Obscured by the sandstorm, its natural habitat, the pokemon's sand force boosts the surprise move, causing considerable damage.

The woman only smiles as she locks eyes with her prey, a look of satisfaction the same as if she'd finally made it to that beach she'd been talking about. Being on the battlefield was in her nature.

She clenches her teeth as steel grinds against ivory.

Pointed tusks set to gore her excadrill cause the pokemon to pull back at the last moment, finishing her violent spin with a flourish and using the momentum to push herself away. She slides across the ground as they break their clash, neither making any headway. The subterrene pokemon stares at the paradox, readying the blades on its claws.

"Hah! True enough! Should see the guy who sent me to kill ya!"

She smiles cheerfully, her attitude belying her assassination attempt. There's fire in his steel eyes now, something that was missing before. She likes that. The ones that put up a fight, who don't go quietly - they're her favorite.

"Too bad a pretty face won't save you!"

Her excadrill leaps forward, sent into a violent rapid spin that clears the battlefield of dust and debris, and toxic spikes. In the sand she's faster, stronger. She crosses the distance in a flash of steel, bringing clash sharp enough to cleave metal against the pokemon's rocky hide.

She barrels into the room like a force of nature, bristling with wild energy scarcely contained. Eyes wander up and down, til they finally fixate on a galarian man with an imposing height and and even more imposing look on his face. Anyone in their right mind would find him hard to approach, and would mind their tongue. Those types were ruled by fear.

She walks straight up to him, confident smile on her face, and opens her mouth.

"Quinn, it's a pleasure. I'm Aoki. Nice to meet'cha. Haven't met you in person yet. You're taller 'n you look in a picture, you know that? And blonder, too. Bet you get that a lot, though."

Her hand rests on her hip. She absently grasps for a hilt that isn't there. A bad habit, given she's surrendered her blades in order to meet with a higher-up. Security doesn't look too kindly to taking your swords into a meeting with one of you boss's bosses. Supposedly that was the custom way back, a way to engender trust between uncertain allies.

Even so, she feels naked without 'em.

"Glad you've found the time to meet with me. Can't be easy with a schedule like yours. Lotta important things to do, places to be, lotta runnin' around I bet. You're a busy man, which is why I'm glad you're here. Needed to talk to someone like you, someone with your reach."

She flatters him with a wide smile.

There's no obligation. She's sure of that. From what she's heard, he's probably the Underboss who responds the least to having his ego inflated. The others tend to preen far more than this one. Not that she'd act this way just to satisfy them, though. No, it wasn't for some convention or a code of conduct.

She was just like this.

"Oh! Right, right... of course! Navidson!"

She hides her eyes under the brim of her hat as he corrects her. The way he says it, like it's some point of pride, like he's taking ownership of it-- she's almost sorry. The way these people idolize their heroes, and here she is: takin' them away.

But that's the way it is. Cillian Quinn wants it that way.

At the very least, she's meant to take the lawman. There'll be nobody left to investigate his death. Nobody competent, anyway.

So lucky for this rugged specimen, she won't need to cover her--

"Wait, you're Navy!?"

All the air leaves her chest at once. For the first time since she met him, she's not smiling. She stands still while he walks ahead. It lasts just a second, but she closes her eyes all the same and curses the gods.

A brief moment of mourning.

"Shit... just had to be my type, huh? Why couldn't you be a little uglier!?"

By the time those words leave her lips, a ball has already hit the ground. A spinning, metallic mole erupts from the blinding light, blades menacing in all directions as it bears down on the man in front of her with a drill run, carving through earth and sending a cloud of dust everywhere.

So he is a local.

She confirms her suspicions, stepping closer with a smile. It's a little wider than before. Shows a little more teeth. There's a look in her eye like static discharge the moment before a lightning strike. It lingers momentarily, before she decides against it.

What's the use, at this rate?

"Yep, just great! Peachy, even! Little sand won't get me down! Came for the beaches, but guess they came to me, eh?"

She laughs at her own joke, then steps closer with the invitation. The man, whoever he is, offered her directions and an escort. She'd be stupid to turn that down.

"And, well... the Sheriff's office, I guess! Been lookin' for him. Name's Davidson or something like that, right? You must know him, huh?"